#OR WILL NAN RETURN PARTY'S FEELINGS?

[bl-bam-beyond]

THE PROMISE (2023, THAILAND)

Phu's (KITTIKUN TANSUHAS aka KUN) devotion to Nan (WATTIKORN PERMSUBHIRUN aka KIAK) during childhood. Continued all the way up to university until Phu (ready to reveal his feelings) saw Nan with Gigi and assumed the worse. Devastated he left a note claiming to be going to Melbourne, Australia to be with his mother (in the mini series)

However in the series. Phu and Nan got drunk. And Nan kissed Phu full on the lips and suddenly Phu decided to flee.

Here Nan is grateful to Phu's highlighting skills as it helped Nan with the test. Nan even thinks Phu got a look at the test beforehand. Phu calls Nan in close to reveal the truth.

"The teacher told us what would be on the test while you were sleep, idiot. 😂😂😂

Solid Friendship.

[distressednoise]

Cassian necked five pints at the airport and spent most of the flight asleep under Brasso’s coat. Brasso has no real memory of him moving, but when he reclaimed his jacket it was loaded with trolley-sized bottles of JD, and now it clinks tellingly as Brasso makes his way through the resort’s cramped corner shop.

The owner squints at him from the far side of the international crisp aisle, and Brasso wants to say I’m not your problem here, but that wouldn’t be strictly true. Brasso has been part of the problem since he was twenty three and didn’t dob Cassian in for stealing from his young offenders’ apprenticeship. Since then they’ve been two halves of the same crime: the guilty party (outside, smoking, getting sworn at in Catalan by 12 year olds) and the one responsible (inside, clinking, making a resigned, supervisory face at the cashier).

When he pays up the cashier peers judgementally into his basket, as if 90% of his clientele aren't after the same combination of Pot Noodle, cans and overpriced factor 10. Brasso's about to make a joke out of it when he says, "You need to get him to stop that," with a nod toward the door, and Brasso turns to see Cassian has negotiated a truce with the children by handing out the last of their cigarettes.

"We're down by the beach," Brasso promises. "We won't be around much." Those are both lies, but he can keep Cassian out of view, probably. Stash him between the novelty beach towels and racks of glittery jelly shoes and hope his hideous fucking patterned shirt blends in. The only reason Brasso hasn't been ripping him about it constantly since they set off is that it's so awful he suspects it was Clem's.

He gets forty Richmond just to make the cashier glare and heads outside to discover what sort of trouble has coalesced around Cassian in his absence, only to find that the children have been dismissed and Cassian is staring at him, face hard, nails newly bitten. "You've brought us to the shitty island," he accuses, as if he thought they were going to Ibiza. He'd actually been uncharacteristically passive while Brasso threw this whole thing together, so maybe he did.

"We're on the Pegla's-nan's-free-apartment island," Brasso corrects him. "Sorry it's not ideal for a rager."

"I know you're decrepit - " Brasso is twenty nine, thank you "but not all of us have given up on life."

"You said you needed to lie low."

"That doesn't mean be bored."

"What did you think it meant?"

"I - " Cassian flounders. "I just didn't expect to be here."

"Cos you didn't fucking help," Brasso points out, but he doesn't add that Cassian brought this on himself in the first place, and in return Cassian takes one of the creaking carrier bags for the schlep up the hill.

"Pegla likes you better."

That's true, Brasso thinks, but people tend to like doing things for Cassian more. He's fun to indulge: wide-eyed enough that you feel good about helping him, shifty enough that you feel rebellious doing it. He could have found himself a bolt hole easily. There's no real reason for Brasso to be here at all. Well, no - to stop Cassian drinking alone and making another set of terrible friends, maybe. To stop Cassian filling the flat with anyone else.

The flat, when they find it, is wedged in the middle floor of a relative high rise, four white-and-terracotta rooms groaning under the weight of Pegla's nan's knicknack collection. There's not a single surface that isn't occupied by a doily or a commemorative plate or one of a seemingly endless set of pink clam shell ashtrays; the clock and the fruitbowl and the light fitting are all bakelite relics from the days when the only good household fixture was one that looked like an exotic, sunbursting weapon; every dish in the kitchen is smoked glass; every furniture that can be nested, nests.

"That's 'your place or mine?' answered, then," Brasso says, dumping his suitcase in a bedroom largely given over by a set of ragdoll donkeys in the costumes of the world.

"Girls will love this," Cassian shouts from the kitchen. "We bring them here. We give them some sangria. We give them tea from a clock and… whatever this is -"

"It's for oranges." Brasso's nan had one. Had the clock, too, and a similar rug. The whole place feels like it should smell of tinned potatoes and death.

"- oranges, on a plate with the queen's face. They'll love that. We take them out on the balcony - "

"Are you sure you've done this before?"

"Trust me, we go out onto the balcony -"

"We go over to the hotel," Brasso says, "and we pretend we're part of the all-in, and then we have sex in the pool like normal people."

"We're lying low."

"Not this low, I'll have nightmares." The donkeys have multiplied since he came in. "Come on."

"I don't want attention."

"That's a fucking lie."

"You're not supposed to encourage me," Cassian complains. He's right, but fuck it - Brasso's on holiday too.

[heretherebedork]

Having The Promise and Our Dating Sim airing at the same time is a fascinating study in different ways of structuring this kind of friendship separation and reunion.

Our Dating Sim is about the love confession coming first and about the separation that makes you ache and both of you are hurt and both of you were lonely and now you're coming back together but forgiveness and understanding are not instant and sometimes even the reunion you want can bring you more pain and running away from your problems isn't a solution, it's a temporary stop gap and it can make those problems worse.

The Promise is a much slower story about one person leaving and lying and the other person so desperate for his return that he cannot bring himself to question or doubt his return because he needs this more than he needs his own anger and the other person coming back jealous and upset that life continued without him despite him being the one to leave.

Ki Tae and Nan were both left behind with no way to contact the person they missed, both talking to ghost sand wishing for more. But Ki Tae held onto his hurt and his frustration and he is trying to reconnect but he also needs Lee Wan to face what he did while Nan is simply clinging to Phu's returned presence the way a flower turns to the sun.

Lee Wan and Phu have both found themselves returned to the person they loved and still do love but with apprehension, unsure of the time that has passed but also certain that their feelings were not, are not, never were returned and they are both struggling with time that has passed and the world that has changed but that they, they have not changed despite their best efforts to become the person they wish they were.

Ki Tae will not let Lee Wan down easily, he will not let him forget that he left and that he never gave him a chance to explain, to talk, to be clear, to be his friend and more.

Nan wants nothing more than to forget that they were ever separated, to return to them as they were, to have Phu back at his side as if he never left and to care for him the same, to be cared for as they cared.

Lee Wan wanted none of this, wanted to never see Ki Tae again, wanted to move on with his life with nothing of the past except the pain that he couldn't outrun.

We don't know what Phu wanted, not exactly, but he came back when he thought he was ready but he's not because Nan did not stand still in university and wait for him unchangingly.

They are such fascinatingly similar but different stories and I love it. This is one of my favorite tropes, no hesitation, and I am definitely hopeful for both plots.

(I just need Nan to have a chance to get mad, a chance to be upset and hurt and angry and aching. Yes, Party is helping but Nan deserves to be upset the way Ki Tae is upset and more considering Phu lied to him for a decade.)

[rockislandadultreads]

Book Recommendations: New Historical Mysteries 

A Dangerous Business by Jane Smiley 

Monterey, 1851. Ever since her husband was killed in a bar fight, Eliza Ripple has been working in a brothel. It seems like a better life, at least at first. The madam, Mrs. Parks, is kind, the men are (relatively) well behaved, and Eliza has attained what few women have: financial security. But when the dead bodies of young women start appearing outside of town, a darkness descends that she can’t resist confronting. Side by side with her friend Jean, and inspired by her reading, especially by Edgar Allan Poe’s detective Dupin, Eliza pieces together an array of clues to try to catch the killer, all the while juggling clients who begin to seem more and more suspicious.

Eliza and Jean are determined not just to survive, but to find their way in a lawless town on the fringes of the Wild West - a bewitching combination of beauty and danger - as what will become the Civil War looms on the horizon. As Mrs. Parks says, “Everyone knows that this is a dangerous business, but between you and me, being a woman is a dangerous business, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise …”

The Christie Affair by Nina de Gramont 

“A long time ago, in another country, I nearly killed a woman. It’s a particular feeling, the urge to murder. It takes over your body so completely, it’s like a divine force, grabbing hold of your will, your limbs, your psyche. There’s a joy to it. In retrospect, it’s frightening, but I daresay in the moment it feels sweet. The way justice feels sweet.”

The greatest mystery wasn’t Agatha Christie’s disappearance in those eleven infamous days, it’s what she discovered.

London, 1925: In a world of townhomes and tennis matches, socialites and shooting parties, Miss Nan O’Dea became Archie Christie’s mistress, luring him away from his devoted and well-known wife, Agatha Christie.

The question is, why? Why destroy another woman’s marriage, why hatch a plot years in the making, and why murder? How was Nan O’Dea so intricately tied to those eleven mysterious days that Agatha Christie went missing?

Wild Irish Rose by Rhys Bowen

New York, 1907: Now that she’s no longer a private detective - at least not officially - Molly Murphy Sullivan is looking forward to a time of settled tranquility with friends and family. Back in New York, where her own story began, Molly decides to accompany some friends to Ellis Island to help distribute clothing to those in need. This journey quickly stirs up memories for Molly. When you’re far from home and see people from your country, every face looks like a family member.

That evening Molly’s policeman husband, Daniel, is late returning home. He comes with a tale to tell: there was a murder on Ellis Island that day, and the main suspect is the spitting image of Molly. The circumstances are eerily similar to when Molly herself arrived on Ellis Island, and she can’t help but feel a sense of fate. Molly was meant to be there that day so that she can clear this woman’s name.

This is the 18th volume in the “Molly Murphy” series. 

Three Debts Paid by Anne Perry

A serial killer is roaming the streets of London, and Daniel Pitt's university chum Ian, now a member of the police, is leading the search. The murders are keeping his mind occupied, but when Ian learns that their old professor, Nicholas Wolford, has been charged with plagiarism, he takes the time to personally ask Daniel to defend their beloved teacher. For help catching who Londoners are now calling the Rainy Day Slasher, Ian also enlists Daniel's good friend Miriam fford Croft, now back from school and a fully qualified pathologist.

As the murders continue, Miriam can't help but notice inexplicable links that have been overlooked by Daniel and Ian. In their concern to defend their former professor, are the two university friends blind to a far worse crime that has been committed?

This is the fifth volume in the “Daniel Pitt” series. 

[waitingforwinterwinds]

Game of Thrones - 37 BRAN V (pages 383-395)

Bran, Robb and Theon go out for Bran's first 'big ride' in the new saddle with a small group of guards, but wind up in an accidental ambush after they get separated. Osha joins the party... as a prisoner.

-

Beyond the castle lay the market square, its wooden stalls deserted now. They rode down the muddy streets of the village, past rows of small neat houses of logs and undressed stone. Less than one in five were occupied, thin tendrils of woodsmoke curling up from their chimneys. The rest would fill up one by one as it grew colder. When the snow fell and the ice winds howled down out of the north, Old Nan said, farmers left their frozen fields and distant holdfasts, loaded up their wagons, and then the winter town came alive. Bran had never seen it happen, but Maester Luwin said the day was looming closer. The end of the long summer was near at hand. Winter is coming.

I love that piece of world building, but do we know how that works in practice, is it first come first serve, or do the farmers own specific houses that they return to each winter, or are they assigned to the incoming crowds based on needs re: family sizes? Can people stay in them during the summers? Were any of the extra houses used to host the King's retinue? Or did they all get put up in the castle proper? I think there's a building called the guest house, that's like an inn? was that used to house them?

"Grey Wind was restless too," Robb said. His auburn hair had grown shaggy and unkempt, and a reddish stubble covered his jaw, making him look older than his fifteen years. "Sometimes I think they know things... sense things..." Robb sighed. "I never know how much to tell you Bran, I wish you were older." "I'm eight now!" Bran said. "Eight isn't so much younger than fifteen, and I'm heir to Winterfell, after you."

Yeah! it's 8 is a whole 53.3333% of 15, that's more than half! that's practically the same age really. go back to maths class child.

"Don't be a fool, lad. You're one against six." The tall woman, Osha, leveled her spear.

Oh hi Osha. Now, I'm given to understand Book!Osha and Show!Osha are pretty different characters for a bit? GRRM started making book more like show because he liked her vibes, iirc? ... which is valid because Occupational Safety and Health Administration is something should all be vibing with. sorry, I tried not to, but it's right there!

Theon Greyjoy stood beside a sentinel tree, his bow in hand. He was smiling. Ever Smiling. A half-dozen arrows were thrust into the soft ground at his feet, but it had only taken one. "A dead enemy is a thing of beauty," he announced.

Maester Luwin stood. "We might do well to question her." Bran could see the relief on his brother's face. "As you say, Maester. Wayn, bind her hands. She'll come back to Winterfell with us... and live or die by the truths she gives us."

Robb was so relieved to not have to kill someone outside of combat, I'd be curious to know how he would have responded has Osha been a man in this instance, just because her being a woman was used as a defense to not kill her, but I feel like Robb's not a huge fan of killing where he doesn't have to. Osha had surrendered, Robb didn't need to kill her, so he was looking for any reason not to. That he found one without looking 'weak' was a bonus.

Juxtapose that with how bloodthirsty Theon always seems, always more sexually driven, always more ready for the first option of violence. But how much of that is his inherent nature, and how much of that is a teenager who's been a hostage for several years, who's basically grown up hiding any resentment he's felt trying to cling to what little he can of his culture which is the more volatile attitudes of raiders.

[datinginsydney]

The Angry Bar Manager who brought me a cactus

(Inner West)

My Bar Managers stage, there were two i dated in a short period of time. People always warned me about them but I had to try it myself.

Lets start off with Paul, over 6 foot tall, banter was on point and lived local. He managed a pub a few suburbs overs. He told me he doesn’t have a license so it was up to me to drive us. I waited in a side street and up he comes 6 foot tall with a beanie on and sunglasses stinking like bourbon, I could hardly see him but I could smell him. So off to the markets we went.

We arrive at the markets , he grab my hand and took my around, talking to the store owners and getting offered free tasting it was lovely to get to know what each other liked it felt I had a boyfriend. And He brought my a cactus which was so sweet. Everything was going so smooth…..

We sat down to eat we were asking each other questions while listening to the live band. I thought to myself this is the perfect time to ask him about not having a license, as he was refused to ask this question earlier he finally did. A double dui in the same day as he explains how he returned the car and started drink driving after already been suspended because ‘why not’.

I hardly knew him but the anger I felt mad it feel like I knew him for a life time. We walk one more circle of the markets and headed to the car.

The very next day, he called me while I was looking after my Nan. He was clearly on some sort of party drug and asked me to be his girlfriend. The very next day I told him I don’t think this will work out and blocked him.

[swynlake-spill]

Please give me your Halloween Party hookup predictions?

FULLY depends on the costumes that people are wearing.

im serious. there are people who would never hook up unless the other person wears, for example, some kind of furry adjacent costume. we're talking kitty cat ears, we're talking tiger tail! there is something very sexy about looking like an animal, and we should not kink shame those individuals. am i saying that the way for tiana and jessica to finally get over their beef is to stick cat ears on jessica? MAYBE I AM! and id be right.

and then: the mask factor. People love having the excuse of not knowing who they're snogging until they've already snogged them. is this just an excuse? yes it is. however, halloween is a time for PEAK debauchery, a chance to work out our guilty pleasures. More than that, it's what i like to call: the halloween mask return policy. you just try a lil kiss out, and if the chemistry is off? no harm, no foul, no feelings hurt!

People who should take advantage of the Halloween Mask Return Policy include:

Al and Vixey (vixey, claim you think al was drakken! it works!)

Jun and Haru

Herc and Michael

Isa and Herc

Isa and Isaac

Gem and Boo

Gem and Snow

Gem and myself

Pip/Phineas/Milo

Edric and Phineas

Pip and Hiro

Pip and Jeremy

Jeremy and Jenny

Jeremy and Kim

Annie and Tom (the hate sexual tension...off the charts)

Anna and Kim

Kim and Canvan, together, at the same time.

Su and Eilonwy

John Darling and Ting-Ting

Hatter and Marlin

Flynn and Holley

Holley and Toby, sure, why not

Phil and Gem, bc I have a crush on them both and think it would be good

Mirabel and Alice

Ashleigh and Evangeline

Mads and Nan

yes, i did just list any two people ive seen interact in the past month. thats the WHOLE POINT. so, buy a mask, and get your freebie snog on!

[themultifandomgal]

I love your imagines so much. I’d like the send in a request for Dylan O’Brien please where YN and Dylan are going to a family event and YN tells her family that she’s pregnant thank you so much 😊

Dylan O’Brien- Family Gathering

Dylan and I have been dating for 7 years now, we met on the set of teen wolf, he playing Stiles and myself playing Ella Hale. Thankfully both our families adore each other which makes family gatherings rather easy to attend to. Today it's my grandparents wedding anniversary, their Gold wedding anniversary to be exact, so Dylan and I take the 3 hour drive to their house where they are having a little party.

On arrival we enter the house with a secret that today my family will know about.. I'm pregnant, 10 weeks, of course my parents know but the rest of the family have no idea. I’m holding a little bag with a baby onesie saying ‘you’ve been promoted from grand parents to great grand parents’

"Alan put the kettle on, YN and Dylan are here" my Nan greats us at the front door

"Hi Nan" I give her a hug and kiss her cheek

"Mary you look wonderful" Dylan also greets my Nan with a hug

"Thank you Dylan, always the charmer. Now come and sit down, you must be exhausted after the drive" Nan ushers us inside and takes us to the living room where my Aunt and Cousin are sat along with the rest of my extended family

"Hi everyone" I greet my family

"Hi cuz" my younger cousin Jack greets getting off his seat and hugging me "hi Dylan"

"Alright Jack. How have you been?"

"I'm good, yourself?"

"Jack I'm stealing your seat" I plonk myself down on to the seat next to my auntie

"I'll go and get you a drink" Dylan tells me and walks out of the room and into the kitchen

"I'm so happy you and Dylan could both come"

"So am I. I wish we came yesterday though because I'm exhausted" I yawn.

As the day goes on I have been feeling sick, knowing it's just morning sickness I try to ignore it, but a few times I've had to and throw up or go for a wee. I've just returned from the bathroom and sit on the chair next to Dylan

“Do you want some wine YN?” my auntie asks

“No thank you”

“Ok who are you and what have you done to my cousin?” Jake asks me “you always say yes to wine”

“Well actually i have got something to tell everyone” I stand up nervously “nan, grandad can you sit down” my nan sits in the chair I just got up from, Dylan stands up letting my grandad sit down “ok wait there” I go into the kitchen and grab the bag and go back into the living room where everyone is. I give my nan the bag, when she opens it she’s pulls out the baby clothes

“Oh my goodness” she starts crying

“Congratulations” my grandad gets up and hugs both me and Dylan

“You always said you wanted to meet your great grandchild, and now you are” I hug my nan

“Now the no wine makes sense. Congratulations cuz”

“Oh I’m so excited. How far along are you?” my auntie asks

“10 weeks, but we knew we wanted to tell you all today”

“How is the teen wolf movie going to work? will Ella be pregnant?”

“No we’re filming now before I get big then I’ll probably just be wearing big coats” I chuckle at my cousin

“Well I think we should all have a glass in honour of this new baby, YN there’s some no alcoholic beer if you want some”

“Sure” my grandad gets up and goes to get me a drink

“So will you move out of your apartment?” nan asks me and Dylan

“Yeah we’re already looking at some houses, we’re looking at in between here and my parents place” he tells my nan

“Oh that would be lovely, hopefully we could see you more then”

“That’s the plan” I smile as my grandad gives me a glass

“To YN, Dylan and this new baby” everyone raises their glasses and we all take a sip. I can’t wait for our baby to arrive.

[youareunbearable]

I've been thinking, but what if Beren knew Meadhros before the Dagor Bragollach and the Silmaril quest went down

Sure his father was sworn friends with Finrod, but Meadhros was the Watcher of the North, he probably had worked and fought alongside Beren’s father, Barahir of Dorthonion, Lord of Ladros and Chieftain of the house of Beor. Maedhros worked alongside a lot of men, and he was smart and likeable and a strong general, so he probably kept good relations with the Men that lived nearby that would be willing to lend willing swords to help him protect the March.

He maybe even was a guest to Barahir’s wedding, he maybe even sent a gift at the birth of his son. Beren fell in love with an Elf, and that love must have come from somewhere. As a child he must have visited Maedhros’ kept in Himring for a summer celebration that his family was invited to. He had never seen so many Elves before, and they were as beautiful as they were strange. There was one Elf, tall with dark hair, who could sing Songs so beautiful Beren felt as if he could reach out and wrap the sound around him like the world’s loveliest cocoon.

Even the Lord of Himring, the tall being with survival scars and glowing eyes and hair like living fire, looked gorgeous when he laughed. Apparently the singer he just complimented was his younger brother Maglor, and not in fact a beautiful maid. No one seemed to mind his blunder, and Maglor gave him a warm smile and a head pat so all was water under the bridge.

(Years later, Maedhros would continue to tease Maglor that his beauty and voice must be second to Luthien, if his young lover was able to forget him upon seeing her. Maglor just sniffs)

When the Dagor Bragollach happened, many of Beren’s people fled to Maedhros’ fort, and Maedhros kept them safe. When things calm slightly, he might even send out a search party for the missing Chieftain and his son. The scouts return months later with a sobbing Beren and the Ring of Barahir. Instead of letting the man wallow in his grief alone in the wilds, Maedhros would help him, help him be the leader his people need, help him take his grief out on the swarms of the Enemy at their gate, and help him deal with the grief of losing a father. He might even show him his father’s ring, the Feanorian star signet ring that he keeps as a necklace after his father’s death. Tells him how he gave this ring to his brother Maglor when he went off to go fight Morgoth, and how his brother returned it to him 30 years later after his rescue. Maedhros mentors and guides Beren for four years, long yet also just a blink of the eye.

Beren would lead fighting parties, he would become a swift and terrible blade under Meadhros’ wing, and a kind and just leader. But the bounty that Morgoth put on his head is still the same in this version, and he is still chased and hunted by Sauron until he flees into the woods of Nan Dungortheb, then into Doriath, and still falls in love with Luthien at first glance.

She still loves him back just as fiercely, and when Beren asks Thingol for Luthien’s hand, this time when he asks for a Silmaril, it is a snub towards the Noldor who have hosted and trained and, one could argue, even raised Beren. It is still just as an impossible task as before and Beren still accepts.

He knows he cannot go to Maedhros for this, he has his own battles at the North and Beren could never ask him to go back into the Enemy’s hands, so he writes him a letter explaining that he will not be returning home and still goes to Finrod. Celegorm and Curufin still try to stop their foolish cousin and his men from going on this quest. Finrod once again leaves with his small group of loyal men.

Except this time, as they leave Nargothrond, Amras and Amrod ride on to intercept them and encourage them to first rest, plan, and wait for Maedhros’ backup at their fort in Estolad. There they have more Men and Elves that want to join their group, and when Maedhros comes (furious about Thingol, worried about Beren going on this impossible task, sick with the feeling of the Oath forcing him to want to help send this young Man to his doom on the slim chance he might succeed) they create a real plan, get the schedules of the Enemy’s movements, and maps (a map of Fingon’s path into Angband, a map of Sauron and his lieutenants recent movements, patrol paths, and some secret paths that the trolls and slaves they rescued gave, and the layout of Morgoth’s halls that Meadhros himself remembers from his enslavement)

Maedhros also gives him a small, thin blade of Mithril. "It’s to hide on your person, if you get captured, this blade won’t break and is light as a feather." He gives him this blade, not to free himself or the others, as the purpose his brother Curufin had in mind when he made the blade for Maedhros after he was rescued by Fingon, but as another method of escape. The eldest of Feanor’s Sons grips Beren’s arm and tells him that there is nothing worse in Arda than being at the mercy of Morgoth and his pet Sauron. He tells him this blade may seem like a curse, but it is a gift. Meadhros doesn't pray, he hasn’t in centuries, but he dearly hopes that Beren will not have to use it.

This time, when Finrod sings his Song of disguise, it's over much more than a handful of followers. This time, when they reach Minas Tirith they are better prepared to sneak past the fallen city.

(This time, Curufin and Celegorm don’t kidnap Luthien so Celegorm will marry her, but to keep her safe. She still doesn’t appreciate it and still steals their dog. Well, it’s not stealing if the dog escapes with her. This time, when the brothers are still forced to leave Nargothrond, it's not under exile but as a polite but firm request to leave. This time, when they chance upon Luthien and Beren again, Celegorm isn’t fighting over his ego and heart being bruised, but because this bitch stole his dog, and because they made their dormant Oath writhe under their skin, which one could argue is worse. They still lose against the Man and the Half Maiar, and Celegorm’s dog still won’t come home. This time, when they make to to Maedhros’ Himring fortress, they aren’t screamed at for their political fuck ups, but they get a stern “Why do you two always make things so difficult for me” lecture of disappointment while Maglor plays an unsympathetic and taunting accompaniment)

They still fail. Finrod still fails in his battle against Sauron but he is able to do more damage to the former Maiar, and they free more of their trapped men before he is killed by a werewolf. This time it’s not only Arafinweian Elves that fall, but Feanorian as well. When Luthien comes to save him and carry Finrod’s body away, it is Meadhros’ men that send the news to his nephew in Nargothrond, and this changes things.

When they go into Morgoth’s halls again, this time, Beren uses the little mithril blade he was given. This time, he escapes with not one silmaril, but two. One for Thingol, and one for Meadhros and his Oath.

His hand is still eaten with the Silmaril by Carcharoth. And Beren still grieves for the loss, not because he has nothing to bring Thingol, but because he knows he can’t give Maedhros his due if he wants to marry the love of his life.

When he gives Thingol the Silmaril, he also gives a warning before doing so, that the gem may be cursed with Morgoth’s taint and while it’s shine is beautiful, it hides something darker, for nothing so lovely should make people bleed and die for it. And if Thingol was wise, he would give the Silmaril to the sons of Feanor before the Oath and the Curse of Feanor catches up to him.

Melian agrees. She is ignored. This does not change.

Beren and Luthien are wed, and Beren invites the Feanorians on the Hunting of Carcharoth, and it is Amras and Amrod that slay the beast with the help of Huan after it attacks Beren. Huan still dies. Beren still dies. Luthien still dies. Yet the Fenorians gain a Silmaril. This is different.

The Oath is not completed with just the one, but it is sated. This time, the Sons of Feanor do not send a letter to Thingol asking him to surrender the gem. This time Celegorm and Curufin do not threaten to burn Doriath to the ground on a refusal that never came. This time, Thingol does not tighten security on his borders. Melian still suggests that they give the Sons the stone after she catches her husband staring at it for too long. Once again she is ignored. That, at least, does not change.

Luthien still sings her husband back to life. They still retire tp Amros and Amrad’s lands, and this time Beren’s people in Himring join them. Dior is still born, and he plays and hunts with two red headed uncles.

(Nirnaeth Arnoediad is still fought. Maedhros is not betrayed by Ulfang, who had seen the light of the Silmaril the Sons hold, and does not cave to the sweet honeyed words of Sauron. His people are not cursed. And his sons still live to fight to survive the battle. This time, Nargothrond sends forces, and Luthien convinces her father to send troops as well. This time Fingon, and his men are not focused and he is able to defeat Gothmog. Fingon is wounded from this battle, and he still dies, but not to a Balrog. He dies as his father did, managing to land five blows on Morgoth before he is slain and the Dark Lord flees. Morgoth’s forces are dwindled down deeply, and there is a unity amongst the Free People’s of Beleriand. They still count heavy losses, but not as heavy as before. Maedhros grieves the death of his dearest companion, and retreats to Himring. While he was successful, he is still the shadow of the Elf he was before. He still wears golden ribbons wrapped around the stump on his right arm and he still weeps. His brother’s still don’t know how to help him. But this time, they do not suggest a second Kinslaying)

Thingol still dies to the Dwarves. Melian is still wounded and returns to Valinor in her grief. But this time Beren doesn’t kill the Dwarf Lord of Nogrod, he lets him keep the necklace but takes the Silmaril. Luthien, in her anger and grief, curses that the Dwarves of Nogord will one day succumb to their greed and become a stain upon their people.

(Unknown to Luthien or the Dwarves, thousands of years later, it is a descendent of a Nogord dwarf that convinces the King of Khazad-dum to continue to mine until they woke Durin’s Bane. It is a descendant of Norgord that was a spy for Sauron which allowed him to overtake Mount Gundabad. It is a descendant of Norgord that uncovers the Arkenstone. It was Narvi, a descendant of Norgord and Durin’s Folk that marries Celebrimbor, and whose death caused such a profound grief that became a weak point which Annatar was allowed to breach and convince Celebrimbor to craft with him. And it was in Narvi’s memory and honor that Celebrimbor crafted the Seven Dwarven Rings of Power. However, that tragedy could also be blamed on Feanor’s Curse.)

Dior still married Nimloth, he still had two sons and one daughter. His parents still die of mortal age and he once again becomes King of Doriath. This time, he gives his father’s bridal gift to his Elven foster uncles, Amrod and Amras. For this Dior was raised on the belief that this stone was indeed tainted by Morgoth. He knew and saw the death and destruction left in its wake. He heard Feanor’s Twins whisper about their broken eldest brother. How he blames himself for the deaths of the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, and for the death of the former High Noldiran King Fingon. All because he was spurred on by the confidence the Silmaril gave him. He saw how it turned the greed of the Dwarves into slaying his grandfather and wounding his grandmother. This time, he saw and he wanted no part in it.

This time Doriath is the one to host the refugees of Gondolin. This time, it burns by the followers of the Enemy that followed the refugees there. This time, Elrond and Elros are not raised by the ones who burned their city. But instead they were carried out by their twin uncles Elured and Elurin. This time, they were found by Meadhros and Maglor (they were on the run, as Himring was forsaken and overrun by Morgoth’s filth) who takes in not one, but two sets of twins in.

For all their mannish blood, Elured and Elurin aged more like Elves, and therefore looked and acted like Elves of thirty-one, which meant they were children themselves when they fled their burning home. This is compared to their father and younger sister, who grew like Men and were fully grown by their mid twenties.

Elrond and Elros are still raised by the Sons of Feanor. Elrond still follows his love of healing by trying to help the broken Meadhros, and still learns to sing at Maglor’s knee. Elros still learns to fight and foster his love of leading by watching and copying and learning from Maedhros and still learns to love and care and cook from Maglor. Their travels across Beleriand still make the younger twins open minded and still want to love the other races. Elrond still wants to create a city that acts as a safe haven for everyone. Elros still wants to live amongst men and make the choice that his grandmother made.

This time, Elured and Elurin get a chance to live. This time, Elurin will learn that he loves working with horses. This time, Elured will learn he likes to build things with his hands. This time, they will live long enough to join Elrond in his safe haven of a city, and this time they will help him raise his children, this time they will help guard Celebrain on her travels to visit her mother and their family. This time, they will be captured and allow her to escape back to her husband and their children. This time, it is them that will sail because they can’t escape the feeling of being chased, running wounded through tunnels, and being tortured. This time, Elrond grieves, but his children don’t grow up without a mother.

But that is a tale for another time.

In this time, when the War of Wrath ends, Maedhros and Maglor leave their two sets of twins in Lindon. They gather their brothers who live there, and collect those that don’t. This time, all seven of the Sons of Feanor fight in the War of Wrath in an attempt to take the single Silmaril from Eonwe. Curufin and Celegorm are still slain together. Amrod still burns, but this time to a balrog.

This time their Oath is fulfilled, but for attacking a Maiar it still burns them. Meadhros, lost to the pain of his remaining hand and centuries of grief, leaves his remaining brothers and still tosses himself and one of the Silmarils into the fire of the earth. Maglor weeps, tosses the second Silmaril in the ocean, and tries to drown himself. For it was he who urged his brother to join the War under the cover of taking the last Silmaril, but Caranthir pulled him back, weeping himself.

Amras, weeping, throws the final Silmaril to Eonwe, who has caught up to them. He curses the stone and with the Oath complete, refuses to let it tear apart what is left of his family. Eonwe sends the stone into the sky, and it still becomes a token of repentance, and it is still cast as a star in the sky.

Amras, Caranthir, and Maglor limp back to Lindon, and they are welcomed by Gil-Galad and Celebrimbor.

Caranthir will choose to stay with Celebrimbor in Eregion. He will continue to do trade with the Dwarves, he will continue to make lots of wealth on his trade routes, and he will continue to raise his own Half Elven children he created with Haleth. This time, he will see Annatar for the evil he is and refuse to accept any of his gifts. This time, when Celebrimbor accepts Annatar into his halls, he calls his nephew a fool and he leaves Eregion Numenor. This time, Caranthir will help Elros’ descendants create Gondor and there he will live with his children well into the Fourth Age. He will die being ambushed by a small band of highway robbers traveling to Lothlorien with trade goods.

Amras will continue to travel the world until he finally settles with a band of Green Elves which eventually settle in Greenwood. This band will soon join Oropher's group of Sindarin Elves. Amras will eventually marry a Green Elf and they will have one daughter, Tauriel. Amras will join the Last Alliance during the end of the Second Age, and he will die in battle. His wife will be left to raise their baby daughter alone, and soon she will fade after a thousand years of grief. Tauriel will be raised as a ward of Thranduil’s (in honour of her father, who was Lord of Elves and who’s own brother raised two generations of their children) and becomes dear friends his own son Legolas and spends many evenings babysitting him and teaching him the shapes of the stars.

Maglor will continue to sing by the water, he will still have a hand burned by the Silmaril, and he still will have a mind half lost to grief and guilt. But he will stay with Elrond, Elured, and Elurin in Lindon, and he will join them in Rivendell after the War of Sauron and the Elves, and he will be a grandfather to Elrond’s children, and he will walk Elured and Elurin to the Grey Havens, and he will sing on the shore until he can no longer see their disappearing boat. And come the end of the Third Age, he will sail west with his son and his daughter-in-law with the ring bearers.

This time, the Sons of Feanor will all be reunited on the Shores of the Undying Land.

[bl-bam-beyond]

THE PROMISE (2023, THAILAND)

Episode 5 of 10

With a slow start and a change from the 2 mini series that aired in August and November of 2022

The Promise returns with the remaining 5 episodes on Wednesday April 19, 2023 on WeTV

When we left before the Hiatus Nan learned Phu's disappearance for 10 Years was a deception and vowed he never wanted to see his bestie since childhood again leaving Phu in a puddle of his own tears.

This dynamic should pick up finally (or hopefully) as Phu is terrified to confess his feelings, while Nan seems so dense that the only way he will know is to hear the words OUT LOUD and clear as a church bell.

Will the distance between Nan and Phu be bridged or will Party take his chance to reveal he too loves Nan?

[lockpicnic]

It's seven years after the Holy War.

Seven years since she was saved from Veld's stone prison, since she watched the Little Lord she raised go on to become a liberator of Thracia, then Grannvale, then Agustria—from boy to man, he was now a Jugdrali hero known far and wide, whose fame and exploits rivaled even that of the Scion of Light. Eclipsed it, in the minds of some.

Mareeta was traveling the world as a swordmaster, having grown even closer to her birth father over the years. Leif had grown into his role as king, wed to Little Nan, and leading Thracia into an age of prosperity and peace. And Seliph the scion, Sigurd's boy... had brought long-awaited clemency to Chalphy's good name, and was reversing the scars and injustices Arvis and his ilk had brought upon Grannvale.

Now Eyvel-turned-Brigid returns to the lands of House Yngvi, bidding farewell to Fiana for now. Her boy, and her sweet girl... they needed their mama, and she would be damned if she went another minute being absent from their lives.

(She thinks of Father. Andrei. The Orgahil captain. She wouldn't put her kids through that same agony of loss. Not again.)

"Happy birthday, Patty." Rather than hold a grand feast in Yngvi's dining hall, she aims for something more heartfelt and intimate: a tea party out in the manor's garden, with a cake baked personally by herself. (With some help from Edain. Maybe.)

Sitting across from her daughter, Brigid can't help but stare for a moment. Those bright eyes, that long, golden hair shimmering in the sun... and the weight of experience and hardship beneath the warmth of her gaze. Even now, it amazed Brigid to see her daughter fully grown, instead of as the infant she last remembers. "...I missed so much." She murmurs, with a slight crack to her voice. "I know this probably isn't enough, but please... talk to me, Patricia? About your life, your interests, just—every little thing."

"You, Febail, and everything you've gone through... I wanna hear it all." They had all the time in the world now. All was at peace, and she finally found her two treasures again. Her family.

She just hoped fate wouldn't tear them apart for a third time.

Once the Holy War (the sequel) had come to an end, Patty assumed that everything would just…go back to normal. That she would go back to Conote with Febail and live happily ever after. It never sank in until they arrived in Yngvi that her brother now held some sort of responsibility for the land and its people. He would be the next Duke of Yngvi, and she—

She really was a Princess, living in comforts that she could only dream of as a child— that she thought only possible by marrying a man for his wallet rather than her own heart.

…The life of a Princess was much more lonely than she would have thought.

Until one day, there’s a woman who joins them in House Yngvi— and she sees her Aunt cry tears of joy. It only takes one look at the “stranger’s” face for Patty to do the same, running at her and jumping into her arms.

“MOM!”

Life with her mother around was…odd. Not bad— just odd. She had gone her entire life without ever meeting either of her parents, only hearing of her mother from stories, and even talk of her father…ended in a list of names rather than one specific man. It was difficult to truly feel connected, no matter how hard she tried— how much she wanted to.

“Aw, ma…” She sits across from her mother, face red as she rubs the back of her neck bashfully. Patty wasn’t used to this much attention normally, but getting it from her mom made it feel even more embarrassing.

The thief tries so hard to ignore the feeling in her chest and the tears pushing against her eyes— so she cuts herself a piece of cake, stuffing her mouth full.

( …Was her mom also a good cook? This was delicious— )

But her mom’s voice nearly causes her to choke, looking up at her with wide eyes. “…Ya really wanna know?” She shifts awkwardly in her seat, the genuine interest in her life from her mother…it’s an odd mixture of comforting and terrifying. That doesn’t make sense, but it’s how she felt— and when have her feelings ever made sense?

“To be honest with ya— you’re right. This ain’t gonna be enough. Ya missed my whole life so far, ya know?” The way she speaks is oddly serious, as if these feelings had been building up for years without her knowing. She never planned on what she would say if she ever had the chance of meeting her mother— it certainly wouldn’t have been this if she did. “But— we got all the time in the world now, don’t we, ma?” She giggles, shaking her head. “And if ya stick ‘round long enough, you’ll have been apart of my life for the majority of it, yeah?”

Patty takes a sip of her tea and grimaces instantly. This was awful…but for some reason, it felt as if she was slowly getting used to the taste. As if she’s had more cups today than she’s had in her lifetime. “Sit back! Ya got a lotta listenin’ to do!”

No matter how hard it was…she wouldn’t let this opportunity go.

[heretherebedork]

Someone brought up on twitter how ironic it is that Phu couldn't handle Nan giving him the silent treatment for 2.5 seconds, but literally gave Nan the silent treatment for A DECADE.

Right? And then plans to secretly not move in with him while Nan is literally celebrating.

Poor Nan.

Nan is trying so hard and trying absolutely everything to make this work, to return to their friendship and their closeness and to have anything resembling the love he feels for Phu... and Phu is just running away.

And he can't claim he's running away to save their friendship anymore. Because Party has proven that Nan is perfectly capable of staying friends with someone who loves him and not just that but also wanting to stay friends and to stay close and to always care about him the same way.

So there's no longer any excuse.

Phu has absolutely no excuse for this bullshit he's going to put Nan through and Nan is just going to deal with it because he's so desperate.

It's why their relationship can't work right now, even if Phu did confess and Nan accepted.

Because Nan would have to do all the work, because Nan could not rely on Phu in any way to be at his side, to support him, to love him. Nan would just keep doing all the work and putting in all the effort and Phu would just coast along until something hard happened and then he'd run away again.

Ugh.

I wish this show was better because it had so much potential and instead just shot itself in the foot because how dare Nan have an emotional journey, Phu is over here being pointlessly angsty.

I don't even know if the show itself realizes the irony in having Phu so deeply and constantly hurt by everything and abandoning Nan on a regular basis while any time Nan is shown to be even the slightest bit hurt he gets nothing.

Nan is expected to just get over his hurts and climb mountains so Phu can run again.

My heart is broken for Nan's eager phone call to get his condo cleaned so it can be a home for himself and Phu, the excitement he had at finally pulling him back to his side where he so desperately wants him only for us to know that Phu is running again, putting distance between them, disregarding Nan's feelings again.

This show.

[voiceless-terror]

And Many Happy Returns

part 2 of my sequel to Inseparable, my childhood friends au. part one here.

Tuesday dawns quicker than Jon imagined it would. 

It’s not one of his best days. First of all, tomorrow is Martin’s birthday, which already has him antsy and distracted. Second, he keeps losing his train of thought whenever he talks to Martin and he’s definitely starting to think something’s up. Third, he’s gotta tell him he can’t play today.

“I’m going to the store with Nan tonight, she wants me to help pick out the groceries,” he says, tearing his sandwich into bits and trying to maintain eye contact with Martin. Nan always thinks he’s lying when he doesn’t meet her eyes. “She says I’m too picky cause I won’t eat anything she gives me.” That’s true, though she wouldn’t remedy it by letting him pick out his own food. She’d just let him go hungry.

“You should eat it anyway,” Martin says, his brow furrowing in concern. “You’ll never grow tall if you don’t eat dinner.” He sounds like one of those TV adverts on the kid channels. Jon has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“It’s fine.” He shoves a bit of sandwich in his mouth. Martin worries too much, and not about the right things. He’s going to make sure Martin has a worry-free birthday. Even if it means making him worry extra today, which kind of cancels it out. He tries to remind himself that feelings aren’t math, though it sure would make things a lot easier if they were. Emotions are messy and Jon doesn’t always understand them.

At the end of the day Martin parts from him reluctantly, and Jon tries not to let it bother him. I’ll make him very happy tomorrow. It’ll be worth it. He drags his feet a bit on the walk, taking twice the normal amount of time to get home. By the time he opens the door, his nan’s already there, putting her purse over her shoulder.

“C’mon then, child,” she says, not sparing him a glance as she slips into her shoes. “Don’t dawdle.” Jon follows suit, throwing his backpack haphazardly on a pile of shoes and bounding out towards the car. He’s usually not a fan of car rides with his Nan; she doesn’t like to play music and she isn’t a fan of Jon’s ‘incessant chattering,’ so they can get pretty boring. This time, however, he’s too distracted to let it bother him, and before he knows it, they’re pulling into the car park. 

Nan insists on doing her shopping first, so Jon has a lot of time to stew. What if they don’t have what he wants? What if they’re all out of cupcakes and Jon has to get him some sort of cookie? What if he has to get him an oatmeal raisin cookie? That would be a disaster. Martin likes them, but they’re just so boring. 

Jon almost breaks out into a sprint when they finally reach the bakery section, but a sharp tug on his arm stops him. He takes exaggeratedly slow steps to the far right counter, where he can spot the birthday cakes and a small selection of cupcakes. Jon’s eyes scan over the rather limited options until he finds it. The perfect one.

He taps on the glass emphatically. “That one. The one with the orange icing.”

His grandmother leans down beside him, her mouth drawn in a disapproving frown. He hopes she hasn’t changed her mind- usually if he behaves, she’ll follow through on her promises. And Jon’s been very good, except for the whole almost-running thing. 

“Are you sure?” She points to a different one to the right, with boring blue icing and dumb baby sprinkles. “The blue one’s much nicer. Orange, it’s such an odd color for-”

Jon stamps his foot in outrage, a move that’s sure to get him in trouble later. “Martin’s hair is orange and it's fantastic! It has to be this one.” He pauses, well aware of the consequences of a tantrum and tacks on an insistent “please.” 

It gets the job down. She gives him one last exasperated sigh before motioning to one of the people behind the counter, pointing at Jon’s choice. He bounces on his feet as they wrap it in a nice little box and Nan carefully puts it in the seat of the cart. “Thank you thank you thank-”

“Alright, that’s enough.” But she’s giving him a little smile, and doesn’t even flinch when he throws his arms around her waist. “You’re welcome.” He gives her an extra good squeeze.

Almost there!

________

And finally it’s Wednesday. The big day. Martin’s day.

He’s spent all of last night fixing up his present, looking at it with a critical eye. He thinks Martin will like it. He hopes he will. Nan had given him the cupcake and told him to make sure he handled it very carefully, lest he get icing all over everything.

Jon’s not stupid. He can handle one cupcake.

“Jon!”

At the sound of Martin’s voice, Jon shoves the box into his backpack.

“Happy Birthday!” he shouts, throwing his arms around Martin and squeezing him tight. Martin’s wonderful at hugs, but Jon can give very good ones if he puts his mind to it. Martin pauses and it takes a few moments before he eagerly returns it.

“Y-You remembered!” Jon looks up from his spot in Martin’s sweater (it’s very soft) and resists the urge to scowl. There’s no scowling on people’s birthdays. 

“Of course. You only told me a few days ago.” He reluctantly parts from him and gives him a lookover- Martin’s not wearing anything special (besides the sweater, a nice light blue), he doesn’t look any different. Jon expected him to carry himself with a different air, like he’s seen older kids do. But eight year old Martin looks the same as seven year old him. Unless he grew a centimeter or two overnight, as children are wont to do.

“I figured we could go to the park after school to celebrate.” Jon resists the urge to dance on his feet as Martin gives him a shy smile. “Well, not the park but the little clearing behind it- you know, the one where we found the headless doll-”

There’s a little path in the sparse woods nearby, where Martin and Jon like to go when the weather is nice. It’s as warm as it could be, and Jon made sure to clear the twigs from the area beforehand so it wasn’t so messy. He’s got a picnic blanket and everything.

“You don’t have to go through the trouble, not if you don’t want-”

“Martin,” Jon sighs, giving him a level look. “It’s not trouble if it’s you.”

His friend’s face immediately goes red at Jon’s words, and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he manages to speak. Martin gets like that when he’s flustered, though Jon has no idea what he said to cause it. 

“I-I would like that, I think.”

“Good.”

Martin keeps shooting him shy smiles all day and Jon can’t keep still, he’s too excited! He’s almost tempted to give Martin the cupcake at lunch (he checks his bag- still good!), but he also brought a little surprise with that, and he’ll definitely get in trouble if they see him at school with it. Still, it takes everything in him not to just celebrate now. By the time the bell rings, Jon’s already out of his seat, tugging at Martin’s hand. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t throw you a party,” he says as he practically skips his way to the playground, Martin huffing alongside him. “But you know how Nan is, and I don’t really know who we’d invite. Better it’s just us.”  They bypass the playground and the few children on it until they make their way to the clearing. Some new twigs must have fallen since his visit on the weekend, and Jon impatiently kicks them aside and throws his backpack to the ground, rummaging through it. Martin stands patiently beside him, watching as he pulls out a ratty blanket and spreads it out on the grass with a flourish. He plops to the ground and pats the spot next to him, gesturing for Martin to sit.

“And for the last bit…” he digs around in his bag, pulling out the small container. The cupcakes gone all crooked and some of the icing’s smeared, so Jon turns that edge towards him. “Tada!””

And Martin just stares.

He’s starting to get nervous. Jon’s gotten good at figuring out Martin’s expressions, but this one is just plain weird. It’s just a lumpy cupcake and Martin’s staring at it like he’s liable to break into a million pieces. Jon’s starting to think he’s done something horribly wrong.

“You don’t like it?” he asks tentatively, starting to pull back. “Should I have gone with the blue one? I thought you liked orange-”

“I do.” Oh no. Martin’s voice has gone all squeaky and breaky, like when they read that book where the dog died at the end. “It’s just- It’s very nice of you. You didn’t have to-”

“Of course I did.” Jon says as soon as he realizes where this is going. “But here, hold this- I’m not done.”

“Not done?”

He digs around in his backpack again and pulls out the small box of matches he’d stolen from the cabinet and a tiny, single candle from some ancient cake pack. Nan had plenty of them, to light the cigarettes Jon’s not supposed to know she smokes. He’s seen her light them with ease, so it shouldn’t be that hard.

He turns and opens the container, still in Martin’s hands, and sticks the candle right in the middle. He takes the matches and tries to strike them against the black bit, fast and quick like his Nan does, but it only succeeds in breaking the match in half.

“Oops. Hold on.” He tries again to no avail, this time flinging the bent match to the side. Three. Four. Five more tries, and he’s starting to get real frustrated and embarrassed. He’s almost eight, for crying out loud. He should be able to light a match.

“Um, here. Let me.” Martin gestures for the pack and Jon reluctantly hands it over, taking the cupcake instead. With one smooth, easy motion, Martin strikes the match against the stripe and Jon watches in awe as it easily lights.

“Wow!”

“It’s not that hard.” He places it against the candle and shakes it out in his hand. He pauses for a moment, staring at the lit candle like he doesn’t know what to do.

“Well? Make a wish!”

“O-Oh! Right.” Martin closes his eyes, clearly concentrating real hard. So hard, in fact, that the wax is starting to melt a bit and Jon worries he’s forgotten to make a wish. A few more seconds pass and Martin blows it out gently. Jon would clap if his hands weren’t full. 

“Eat it!” he demands, and Martin complies, a smile on his face as he takes a hesitant nibble and nods in appreciation. “But I would like one bite, please. I want to know how orange tastes.”

Orange ends up tasting mostly like white and pink and all the other colors do. How boring. Martin seems to enjoy it, though, judging by the icing smeared across his face. He should’ve brought napkins.

“I, um, I also got you this,” Jon reaches into his backpack to pull out his actual present- it’s a bit crumpled, bent at the corners, but it’s managed to stand up pretty well in his backpack. Doesn’t even have any pencil marks on it! Martin seems to like his pictures, always keeping even the silliest of doodles, so he decided he’d give him a whole bunch at once, that way he can get a bunch of smiles from Martin. He threw away his more amateur attempts- he’d tried to draw just Martin, but the arms kept coming out real wonky so he decided to go with his busier drawings, so Martin wouldn’t be able to see how bad he was at proportions.

“It’s got a book cover and everything,” he explains excitedly, holding it out to Martin but not exactly letting him touch it yet. He’s not going to understand everything unless Jon walks him through it, obviously. Martin hovers near his shoulder looking weirdly nervous, so Jon sidles up to him.

“Here’s us at school, at our tree, in the library- oh! This is just a page of dinosaurs. I used that book from the library as reference. It’s got really good pictures. I think they turned out pretty well, don’t you?” He points to his favorite one, a purple brontosaurus (he’s never seen any purple ones in the books, but it’s a very nice color). 

“Y-Yeah,” Martin replies, leaning further into his side. Jon likes when he does that. He can be pretty hesitant about touches, but he doesn’t need to be. Not with him. “It looks really nice, Jon.”

“Thank you.” Of course Martin would like it. He was so silly to worry. “And here’s that time you kicked that ball at Marcus- and here’s that dog I hate- and here’s our house-”

“Our house?”

Jon blinks, turning to look up at Martin. “Yeah. For when we’re big.” Martin continues to stare at him with big, bright eyes, like Jon’s an alien or something. Weird.

“A-Are we married?”

“Um, maybe.” Jon hadn’t really put much thought into that. He just supposes that when they grow up, they’ll get their own house. Well, first a flat in London, but then they’d get a big place when they were rich. Jon’s going to work with dinosaurs at a museum, there’s definitely money in that. They have to pay you a lot because the bones are so big. And Martin...what will Martin do? Firefighter, probably, on account of his height and his arms. Or maybe a doctor, since he’s so good at putting on plasters. 

I suppose we could be married. He’s not sure he ever wants to give Martin a kiss or have babies or anything like that, but it would be nice to have someone to hug on a permanent basis. He doesn’t want to get married in a church, though. The last time he’d been in one was during his mum’s funeral, and he thinks he’ll cry if he has to see a cross.

“I haven’t thought about it,” he decides; he doesn’t want to dash Martin’s dreams, since there’s still a distinct possibility it’ll happen. It just makes sense. “But you would have to get me a very shiny ring with lots of colors. None of those boring clear ones. Okay?”

Martin gives him a very good smile. “Okay.”

They spend a little bit more time going through the rest of the pictures- Jon explaining each one, and Martin nodding as if it's the most interesting thing in the world. Martin’s very good at giving people his undivided attention. When they’re done, Martin hugs it to his chest like it’s something precious and beams.

“Thanks, Jon. I- I really like it.”

“Oh, good.” Jon tries not to let it show how much this pleases him, looking away from Martin’s beaming face even as he bounces a little on his knees. “I’m glad. I can make you one next year. And the year after that. All the years, really. I can’t wait for us to grow up and do lots of things together.” Now that Martin’s seen all his pictures and predictions, they need to start doing some planning, the two of them. They’ve got a good ten years before they graduate, and he wants to do some stuff in between.

“I can’t wait to drive everywhere like my mum does,” Martin says. Martin has a preoccupation with that, Jon noticed. Most kids are fine with bikes but Martin wants a car, he wants to go far places. Like Scotland, even. And you need a car for that. The thought of being behind the wheel fills Jon with anxiety.

“I don’t think I’m going to drive, ever,” he announces, plopping down beside Martin. “Cars are so big. I don’t know how I’d control them.”

“Mum says it's not that hard,” Martin says. “And once, Dad let me drive in his lap. Only a little bit, though. I think I can handle it.” Jon can very easily picture Martin behind the seat of a car. It’s just something he looks like he can do. 

“And don’t worry,” he continues. “I’ll drive you wherever you need to go. It’ll be fun.” It’ll definitely be an improvement over car rides with Nan. But anything with Martin is an improvement, he makes things fun just by being there.

“I guess. But I want to go on adventures,” Jon says emphatically.  “I want to go on a train ride around Europe. Visit all the museums and gardens and castles. We can do that together.”

“Go out and see the world, then?”

“Yeah.” He looks over to Martin, sitting there on Jon’s dirty little blanket with his present tucked against his chest and a far off look in his eyes, smiling at Jon like he’s hung the moon and suddenly they’re not in this stupid little clearing in stupid little Bournemouth, but somewhere else- a grand forest in Germany, or a field in France, or a cottage in the country. The world out there is large and scary and full of things he doesn’t understand, but he’s not alone anymore, fantasizing about adventures he’ll never have and places he’ll never go. He’s got Martin, now, and he makes the world a little more familiar, a little more safe.  His fantasies don’t seem so far away anymore. 

This is why people have friends, Jon thinks. It’s one thing to have a home and a family. Or a Nan, like Jon has. But when you have a friend, it’s like having a whole nother family. And when you see them it’s like coming home, even if you’re not at your house. And you’re not lonely or homesick cause even a dingy little clearing or a forest or a castle can be home, as long as you’re with them. 

“Jon,” Martin says, his voice interrupting Jon’s musings. “This is...really nice. Thank you.”

“I’m glad.” Jon beams, nudging Martin’s leg with his foot. “I wanted you to have a good birthday. You’re my best friend!”

“I’m your only friend,” Martin corrects, though his face blanches as soon as the words come out. “I mean, you’re my only friend too, so I don’t have much room to talk.”

“Well, I’ve got you. I don’t need anyone else.” Jon rolls his eyes. He likes this whole friend business, but he doesn’t think he can handle another one right now. He’s got enough on his plate as is. 

“Yeah,” Martin says, nudging Jon back with a smile. “Neither do I.”

________

They spend the rest of daylight there, talking. Jon even offers to go on the tire swing, though the last time he threw up in his mouth a little. Martin declines with a knowing smile, and says he’s just fine sitting here. Jon thought he’d want a bit more excitement, but he’s willing to go along. It’s Martin’s birthday, after all. And the talking isn’t so bad. By the time they leave, they’ve got enough plans for the next twenty years. Martin’s hesitant about university, though, so Jon’s going to have to sell him on that one. He’s not going to share a dorm with some stranger when he’s got a perfectly good, perfectly smart friend who ought to be in school. 

On the walk back to Martin’s, they’re mostly silent. Jon knows Martin isn’t going home to a celebration, or a mum that’ll wish him a happy birthday, but he hopes today more than made up for it. He stares ahead for a few moments before he takes Martin’s hand.

“Did you have a good birthday?” Jon asks. He hates needing constant reassurance like this, but sometimes it’s better to just come out and ask instead of worrying all night.  “I haven’t planned a birthday before, and I’m not as good as a mum or dad at it, but I-”

“Jon,” Martin says, turning to him with that very good smile, one that Jon will try and fail to recreate in a hundred more doodles. “This was the best birthday I’ve ever had.” He sounds like he means it, like today was enough and Jon did a good job. He beams in response.

He thinks his mum would be proud.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599192/chapters/76194152

[smutandfluffohmy]

His Sweater #3

From: Smutandfluffohmy Pairings: George Weasley X Slytherin!reader A/N: I shared my story on TikTok and thank you so much for all the support and love for this story 🥺 It really means the world to me 💕 I was going to cut this up to two different parts because its so longggg but I thought I should post it as one since it was supposed to be posted over the weekend.

Read it from the beginning Part 1 Here  

Looking for part 2? Look no further

I had snow in my shoe, a hexed Gryffindor robe and George Weasleys sweater if all but the snow I would count this as a successful day. Walking to the Slytherin common room felt ages away and by far something I wasn’t looking forward to.

“Draco can you please stop crying.” I huffed looking around the common room at a bunch of Slytherins angrily pointing at their hexed robes they haven’t bothered to change back, I suppose it fueled their anger and made them forget their terrible Quiddith match or maybe they were just enjoying mocking Gryffindor students.

“I’m not crying I’m just angry.You should’ve seen Potters smug face wh-” Draco was yelling and probably shaking a finger at me just like my nan, but today has been far too long for me to stick around for yet another of his Potter rants.

Changing out of my unforgiving cold clothes I put on blue pajamas. Now these were sneaking around the castle at 3am appropriate, not that I intended to get up that early again but it was nice feeling that this time I had at least prepared. Georges sweater sat on the edge of my bed, it looked so lonely sitting there, the room wasn’t cold but I think I lied to myself that it was just enough to justify wearing his sweater to bed. I smelt like George Weasley, it smells exactly like the amorentia I brewed earlier today. I wonder what George smells? And if I could buy a perfume that smells like that, perhaps I could trick him into liking me that way.

But those are horrible thoughts to be having of a day-old friend.

My morning was uneventful and I was grateful for the much needed peace and quiet from a hectic year. The library was as quiet as always, books silently whizzing over my head rearranging themselves with a silent thump here and there.

Fred sat down loudly on the chair next to me, the box in his hand clanging loudly against the wooden desk making me jump. “That sweater really brings out your eyes. Where’d you get it?” Fred laughed bumping his shoulder to mine making me nudge George’s shoulder.

My face went red at the sudden contact as if I wasn't wearing his sweater. “Piss off Fred.” Fred Weasley didn’t know how to whisper nor how to act around people he just met these two things I knew for sure.

“So we wanted to run this idea by you” George said reaching over me to get the box Fred had placed on the table.

Fred leaned on the table leaning against his arms to look over at his brother. “George beings a boring bellend. Talk some sense into him will ya.” George leaned over just like Fred, the 8 chair table seemed too small and it turns out Fred isn't the only that had issues with personal space.

Fred proceeded to tell me about the plan and George swore that Fred and Fred alone thought this all up. Which Fred answered that George was a fool that was loosing his sense of humor due to his old age. Ten minutes, 3 head flicking fights and one terrible plan later had me wondering how they had gotten as far as they did without seriously injuring someone.

I was afraid going against them would mean the end of our friendship but they want to put bertlys barfs and boils on the dinners feast but I for one did not want to wash off a third years barf from my robes.

I breathed in looking over at George to see if he was just as excited as Fred was, brown eyes met mine and for a flash I forgot what I was looking for. “That’s literally poisoning people.” I told Fred who's face fell at my shocking answer but George beamed from behind me, reaching over and draped his arm over me smiling at his brother.

Fred looked from George to me and then around the library looking around for someone that would agree to making an entire school sick to their stomach was anything but a horrible ideas. Unlucky for us he found it in the form of a ghost hiding frogs behind a set of books “Peeves what do you think?” Fred called out waving him over like an old friend.

Peeves stopped what he was doing walking over to us.His hat framing the sides of his face, his shoes gave off a slight jingle with every steep and his face lighting up at seeing us “I think it’s brilliant! While you’re at it I suggest putting some on the old professors food. Make it a party!” He said stepping on top of the table kicking some of the papers I was working on around, some of the scrolls rolling across the wooden floor.

Fred clapped his hands on the table smiling up at Peeves “Finally someone that understands!” and with that Peeves stepped off the table further kicking my potions assignment further around the library surely to be tossed or lost forever. 

Sighing I looked over at Fred who's face never wavered “Can’t just have it change peoples hair color? You know not unknowingly make them violently ill.” I said looking back at George for some support something he was already giving me with a loopy smile as if he just drank 4 pints of Firewhisky.

Scrunching my eyebrows at him he seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in. Nodding his head making his hair move in all sort of directions, I wonder if it was as soft as it looked. “I kinda don’t want to see boils popping on the French toast.” George said shrugging his shoulders at his brother, I was still blissfully over aware that his arm was slung over my shoulders

Throwing his head back slumping down on his chair with an overly dramatic sigh he closed his eyes “Fine fine we’ll think it over.” Fred said waving us away, to where he wanted us to disappear I don’t know and frankly I didn't care enough to ask.

As it turned out there was no prank that year. The laughter we had anticipated was pushed to the side with George and Fred gathering money for the new joke shop they talked so fondly about. The laughter was later completely forgotten at the news of Cediric Diggorys untimely passing.Our secret joke meetings got replaced with hospital wing visits looking after Harry and Ron who had picked fights with what seemed like all of Hogwarts. Hermione Granger was always there with us and sometimes their other friends stopped by with plants or books or snacks they thought they might enjoy during their stay. 

We didn't know what was worse you-know-whos reappearance or the fact that people thought Harry killed Cedric himself for a stupid trophy in a stupid game that Dumbledore wasn’t bright enough to not let a 15 year old Harry participate in. The year ended and while I was sad to not see George nor Fred for a while, I was glad we no longer had to pull apart fights and mend bruises.

The summer consisted of writing letters to Fred and George, well mostly George. It was not just because I liked him but also because Fred had awful hand writing, that at times it made me question if I even knew how to read at all. I occasionally asked them how Ron was doing, if Harry was doing any better and if Hermione still looked at Ron fondly. I still wore Georges sweater around the house that I was not permitted to leave from and more often than not I got teased on my crush on the Weasley boy from my mother, father, brother and sister-in-law who seemed to have no other entertainment besides teasing me.

The days were long and our boredom filled the house. I was more than glad when the school year began once again. Sitting in the train cart with Draco and his friends who my family asked me to keep a close eye on as they feared they might stray somewhere horrible. I didn't have the heart to tell them I suspected they already had, so I was stuck with Draco and his never ending Harry Potter rant.

“You know Draco I think the only person that talks about Harry as much as you do is Ginny.” I said, which caused him to turn an awful shade of red. The remainder of the trip was left in silence which I was thankful for. Stepping into the grand hall I looked around for Fred and George who to no-ones surprised were whispering between the two of them.

Pushing past other students I was finally in front of the boys I spent all summer writing to. They seemed to have gotten taller and their hair had gotten shorter. “Fred! George I missed you!”I said grabbing them down into a hug which they returned just as quickly as they broke it off.

“Sorry gotta run.” Fred said smiling down at me ruffling my hair. Embarrassed I tried to flatten it down in an effort for it to regain it’s original place.

“Places to be.” George said following his brother, I reached over yanking him back. Perhaps they had things to do, what things could be done in the first day back I don’t know but I was hurt they were leaving me behind without as much as a hello tossed my way.

“Wait your sweater!” Was all I could say as I pushed his neatly folded sweater that said ‘I thought about the way the sleeves are folded because I like you but I didn’t think enough about it for you to worry’ towards him. Hesitantly he reached over placing his hand on top and bottom of the sweater, his fingers grazing mine, being awfully gentle like it could fall apart right then in there in the great hall.

He smiled at him making my heart jump “Oh thanks I was looking for it all break.” he said rather confidently for a lie, I wrote him every week asking if I should send it over but every week it seemed to be too hot or too rainy or too blue out for a sweater to be delivered via owl.  “Here can you hold this for a bit.Thanks you’re a life saver.” He said tugging off the sweater he already had on and tugging it over my head. I was left with frizzy hair, alone and with George Weasleys sweater once again.

The year was going awful and I wondered if it was all just one big nightmare caused by a faulty potion in Professor Snape's class. Unfortunately it was not and we were in fact left with a highly dressed up and highly pink toad of a woman being our professor. 

“Eyes up front children. There will be no speaking out of turn in my classroom.” Professor Umbridge said as she continued on with her lesson in the defense against the dark arts, a field that while highly skilled she refused to prove it. A sentiment that had the gracious opportunity to fill my ear when I was helping Professor Snape grade papers earlier that day. 

The days seemed somehow longer than they did over the summer, perhaps it was the ridiculous amount of reading or perhaps it was because Fred and George had agreed amongst themselves that I no longer existed.

A head of red hair passed by and at that moment I swore it was my favorite color “Ron!” I called out running to catch up with him, he tensed up his shoulders before turning to look at who had called me.

“Bloody hell woman you almost killed me.” He said clutching his robes just over the place his heart was, well at least would be if it was not in fact on the other side. Perhaps I was a bit too thrilled to had finally made at least one of the Weasley stay long enough to speak to me.

“Oh hello Hermione I haven't seen you in a while!” That was in fact a lie I haven't seen her at all but it seemed like a polite thing to say at the time “Ron If you see your brothers ca-”

“Y/n why don’t you just try acquainting yourself with decent people? Not of the likes of Weasleys and mudbloods.” Draco said from behind me, Ron turned red much like he did when he was about to fight and Hermione scrunched her nose balling her fist as if she was about to take a swing and Draco.

I felt awfully silly picking a fight with a boy that I passed charms notes to earlier that day.But I could not help but feel the dread that washed over Hermione Granger when he called her a mudblood, a girl who's potions paper I gave a perfect mark to minutes earlier. “Oh like who? You? Push over little daddies boy?” I said standing tall looking at him.The way he said Weasley filled me with more anger than the way he called Hermione Granger a mudblood a sentiment I felt awful for feeling.

Dracos face twisted in an awful expression that made me wish I drank whatever liquid courage they fed Gryffindors. “Watch who you’re talking to!” 

“No you watch it Draco.”I said taking a stride closer towards him, our shoes nearly touching and my legs slightly shaking. “Does your mum approve of the things you do?” I said to him only loud enough for him to hear it.

His face dropped before getting a scowl once more “Don’t talk about my mother.” he said with a sneer.

“Don’t give me a reason to.Now get out of here before I make you regret it.” I warned, an empty threat, as empty as they come but Draco did not know enough about me to call my bluff. With a sneer and a swish of a cape he walked away and I was glad I could finally wipe the sweat off my palms on my robe.

The shoes stepping towards me made me tense as I suddenly became aware that I had in fact almost fought a child in front of two other children. A gentle hand was placed on my stiff shoulder instantly making them drop.“Are you alright?” Hermione asked which a nod was all I could answer her with.

I didn’t answer her, afraid my voice would shake and give Draco the satisfaction he got done over on me “Holy shit I feel like I’m going to throw up.” I said once he was out of sight, I joked with being placed in Gryffindor before but for the first time I realized something the sorting hat knew all along. I was in fact empty of courage.

“That was amazing I’ve never seen someone stand up to that git Malfoy like that.” Ron mused smiling as he threw a finger at Dracos back, his smile soften when he saw the awful color mine was.  “A-and I’ll make sure to tell George and Fred to stop being such idiots.”

The rest of the day passed without much anything of note, except every slam and quick movement filled me with dread thinking that Malfoy came back for another squabbling match. When the two chairs besides me got pulled out I was worried I was in for a beating and started wondering were a bunch of children would take the piss out of me. Instead George and Fred sat besides me, the rest of the study table giving them odd looks as they all concluded the Weasleys and I were no longer in speaking terms.

“You’re talking to me now?” I said turning back to my herebology book that was rather bland and focused on an smear on the page to fain interest in.

George leaned over placing his head down on the table in an effort to get me to pay attention, but all he did was look like a git. A git that made my heart swell but most importantly a git over anything. “Look we’re sorry a lot of things have been happening and well we’re just part of something.” He said placing his hand over the pages of the book.

“Top secret something.” Fred said leaning into me.

“Dumbledores army? I’ve heard” I whispered to them in an actual proper whisper something they had no knowledge in.

“Ye- how’d you know?” George said closing the textbook infant of me, looking from me to his brother to the other people in the table that had absolutely no interest into what they could be planning now.

I shrugged “Freds shit at whispering.”

“Perfect then you're caught up on everything. So we made this extendable ear and we wanted to run it by you.” Fred said digging out a torn up ear from his pocket and acting like I didn't just say that I knew about a top secret after school club.

“Hold up I never said I forgave you twats”

“You want me to get on my knees? I’ll get on my knees.”

“No George that-” I started to say shaking my head.

“Please come back to us ,our sad little hearts have a y/n shaped holes.” George said getting on his knees, in front of me with people looking at us as if we lit a garbage on fire. 

My face turned red as I tried to drag him up to his feet to no avail “Get up.” I said between tugs as Fred laughed on and I can’t tell if that made it better or worse.

“I’m on my knees begging for you to take me back.” George said a bit more loudly with every word, in any other context I would be flattered over the moon in fact. But the snickers and Snape walking towards us made me reevaluate the flattery and George Weasley as a whole.

“Fine I forgive you now get up people are staring.” I said and with that George got up, not because he was embarrassed or because Snape came with a text book up in arms to hit us over the head with but because he just wanted to hear that I forgave him.

Everything seemed to be looking up, there was no sign of you-know-who, Ginny punched the Ravenclaws that were giving Luna Lovegood a hard time in the face, there had been less rain than expected and George, Fred and I were now friends once more. Perhaps all was not good Umbridge was still there in her twisted demented Elle Woods impersonation and Filch could not stop being tragically in love with Umbridge, at times I wonder if I was the Filch in George and I’s situation.

The D.A.D.A class came to an end, a time I thought had forgotten about us. I was packing up my bags, grabbing the text books a manicured handed stopped me.

“Can you come with me to my office?” Umbridge said in more of a demand than a request, nodding my head I followed her to her office. Perhaps I expected a lair or to see Oswald Mosley and Jack the ripper having a cup of tea over the fire but all I got was what looked like the inside of my nan’s house.

“Lovely room. I have a cat myself.”  I said, a shiver going down my spine as at least a hundred cats meowed and purred down on me from their strategically placed spots. I loved my cat but I wondered if I could ever love this as much as this, perhaps it was not love at all.

Clapping her hands together she smiled at me “I knew I liked you from the moment I saw you” Umbridge said with a tight smile and while she stood in all her glory in bright pink I don't think it was meant as a compliment. “I called you here because I’ve heard from some of your housemates you’ve fallen in with the wrong crowd with those Weasel bo-”

“Weasley.” I said too confidently for someone that was sitting on a chair that had a picture of a kitten on it.

“I beg your pardon” She stopped smiling her tight lipped smile.

“It’s Weasley not weasel ma’am.” I suspected that she knew that but wasn’t particularly interested in it. She gave out a laugh that sounded like it had been squeezed out of her which by the look in her face I suspect it had.

“Oh did I say that? A slip of the tongue I suppose. As I was saying we’re all worried about you my dear, I suspect doing a few lines will help us clear this up.” She said tapping the piece of parchment paper that sat alone in the desk. “Write “I must not stray’ to help you remember where you truly belong.” A bit on the nose and tacky but I wasn't the one that drank tea out of cups laced with cat fur ,perhaps it had all gone to her head or maybe all adults were this pretentious.

“I’m afraid I didn't bring my quill.” I said over the sea of meows, when I said this she smiled a genuine smile this time.

“No need to worry I have it all set up for you.” She said placing a quill in front of me ever so delicately.

“Thank you Ma’am. How many lines am I to write?”

“I suspect till you feel it sink in dear.” She said once agains laughing, her hands place neatly and delicately in front of her. She smiled with teeth that was some how more intimidating than her tight lipped smile. I did not know how to tell her she had pink lipstick on her teeth.Picking up the quill I noticed there was no ink and I silently saluted the Wizarding world for discovering the amazing muggle creation that are pens.

I should’ve known that these old gits didn’t update to pens, I should’ve known when she smiled at me, I should’ve known when she stood besides me watching me write lines. A lot of should’ves weren't going to erase the burning wound that was not on my arm for an undisclosed amount of time.

‘I must not stray’ I couldn’t see it but I could feel it burn against the sweater, the robes, the air itself seemed to be conspiring on making the cut ache. Having my arm at a certain angle made it 

“I brought you a hot chocolate.” George said appearing out of no where, it was almost comical and a bit concerning how no matter where I was George and Fred could always find me.

“What for?” Looking down at the cup in his hands I wondered besides hot chocolate what else would be in it.

George smiled “What I can't be a good friend? Bring you a hot drink on a cold night like this?” He said scooting a bit closer to me, I was suddenly overly aware of where my arm was placed.

Fred sat down besides me with a blue box on his lap “And we wanted to see if you could try some of our new skydiving snacks boxes.”

“And what if I die?” 

“Well then we’ll miss you terribly.” Fred said placing a sad hand on my shoulder.

“I won’t let you die.Now open up.” George smiled beckoning me to open up which I did, if I were to trust anyone to hand fed me it would be against my better judgment George Weasley. His face dropped a bit and the gag snack never reached my mouth “What’s wrong with your arm?”

My face drained of color as I looked at him “Nothing. I thought you wanted me to try your parachute snacks.”

“Skydiving. Come on we’re your best mates show us.” Fred said, in a tone that was unlike his own not a hint of sarcasm and only of pure worry. A tone I’ve only heard after a particularly nasty fall Ron had while playing quidditch.

They made a fuss. Well it was mostly George that seemed a bit unhinged by the scar and Fred shifted between asking me if it hurt and telling George to calm down. It took hours, countless ‘I’m alright’s’ and a few ‘she can’t get to me that easily’s’ to calm George down enough to even begin to talk about what they had also came looking for me for.

“So here’s the plan.” Fred started, while George began wrapping my arm up with bandages he carried for this occasion however I doubted he thought he would be bandaging me up. Fred continued talking between George’s ‘are you okay?’ and ‘Are you sure it doesn't hurt?’. Even when I was all bandaged up George still held on to my arm.

“Hmmm.” I hummed once Fred finished telling me the plan.

He knew well enough to trust me with the pranks but something about me Fred thought funny to test me “Hmm?” he imitated me.

“Can you make something eat her?” I said waving my hand over the propped notebook he had in his hands.

“Like a troll?” Fred thought about it but not before looking at me with equal parts respect and as if I had completely off the rails. Nodding “Yea but made of fireworks?” I said. ‘Better make it a real one’ George murmured besides me, not only did he have a pout forming, playing around with my fingers but I was also surprised to know that at least one of them knew how to whisper.

Scratching his head Fred looked over the notebook, I wondered if they had a section dedicated to this hell I wonder if anyone but Fred could decipher the utter chicken scratch he had on there. “Blimey I know we’re brilliant but give us some room to breathe” breathing out some air Fred skimmed through the notes  “What about a dragon? I reckon we can do a dragon.” Fred spoke more to himself, I doubt he meant for us to answer and I didn't even had the knowledge to answer it.

“Wait you have to take me with you guys.” I said a bit too forceful, a bit too instant and a bit too excited.

“Don’t be ridiculous you're a bloody good witch, you belong here.” George countered, startling me a he broke his silent grieving, perhaps he was afraid that the plan would back fire and they would be in for a punishment worse than writing lines.

“Screw that let’s go you can sweep around the shop.” Fred laughed ignoring his brother glares that I could feel burning the side of my face.

I wasn’t too fond of agreeing with Fred but having one of them on board was better than none “I’ll invest in your shop. I heard my parents talk about a spot in Diagon Alley, I think we can get a good price” I talked far too quickly and far too excitedly, perhaps to get ahead of them backing up on their half promise.

“An investor? You’re still going to have to clean around the shop, in a maids outfit I reckon you know for ambiance.” Fred laughed poking George shoulder when he mentioned the maids outfit, as much as I would do to make George happy I don't think I could go as far as dressing up as a maid in what I suspect is anything but a propers maid uniform.

George shook his head “We can’t take her with us Fred she can't just drop out of school l-” He said and while they argued all the time this was the first time George had been serious about it, and I finally understood the angry George he told me he said he was. 

“Bite me George I’m coming with you. I wasn’t even supposed to attend this year.” I said my best trying to defuse the situation.

“Yea bite her George she’s coming with us. Wait you weren’t supposed to attend this year? What couldn't resist us?” Fred smiled flexing his arms and running his hand through his hair, an act that I’m sure nobody but himself thought of as sexy.

“My parents heard you-know-who was coming back and insisted I go somewhere else but I know Gryffindors and especially you two gits are just filled with courage and being the biggest sniffling idiots. I just had to make sure you stayed alive long enough for-”

“For?” George said interrupting me, as if the next word out of my mouth was not going to be that very explanation.

“For me to see you two again.” I said playfully bumping their shoulders, careful to mind my arm.

“Yack you’re such a sap.Come on we got things to plan” Fred said taking out parchment paper to make adjustments for their plans, George stared at me as if I had something particularly interesting on my face and for a moment I wondered if I did.

Packing up the last of the fireworks I checked and double checked we in fact were carrying hundreds of working fireworks.Snaps and crackles sounded through the hallways as Fred,George and I dropped and tossed fireworks. I held on the George because I unlike them didn't know how to ride a broom and being far too short on time to be thought how to do so.

Fire works went off below us, crashing into the room were O.W.L.S were being taken confused students and an equally confused Umbridge looked up at disbelief at us. Fireworks twisted and turned and exploded everywhere.

George and Fred highfived each other on passing as the cheers below us began getting drowned out by the deafening noise. I could hardly contain my excitement as a series of fireworks went off, shifting closer to George I looked over his shoulder waiting for the big reveal.A dragon of a hundred glowing fireworks went off as it snapped at Umbridge who was yelling trying to outrun it. 

Umbridge who as I suspect could be spotted from miles away in her pink dress and pink shoes covered in black powder waved and shook her fist at us, grabbing up at the air in efforts to drag us back down.

“Give her hell from us Peeves!” The twins called out and for a moment I could’ve sworn I saw him give them a bow.

Turning my head to look at Peeves for what I suspect to be the last time, I wanted to wave goodbye to him. But I was far too off the ground and far too scared to wave instead I hopped he knew that I would despite him dropping a slug in my drink would in fact miss him very very much.

Hogwarts quickly became smaller and smaller. I see why they were considered great at quidditch I felt like I was flying through time at the probably criminal speed they were going.

“What’s the plan now Weasley?” I said looking up at him. He looked as if his face was being pulled back and I found it ridiculous that I was still in fact smitten by it.

He shrugged his shoulders yelling over the loud wind “Reckon we got to get married now don’t think you’ll get into another school.”

Nodding my head I laughed, I wasn’t sure as to what exactly was the joke or if I had laughed before the punchline but nevertheless I laughed. “I guess you’re right. You think Fred would marry me?”

“Ye- What no.Not Fred he’s a git. You should marry me”  George smiled and said as if where the sanest and most normal thing anyone could say to their friend. My stunned silence made his confident smile flatten a tad as he stumbled trying to back track or perhaps he was thinking of just pushing me off the broom at this rate. “You know for business purposes we already came up with the name and I’d feel awful not including you.” He reasoned with me, if this was his idea of reasonable I was extremely worried about what he thought as unreasonable.

“Merlin Weasley at least take me on a date before you try marrying me.” My words came out shaky and I could feel my heart pounding, I wonder if George could feel it pounding against his back.

“I can do that.” He said turning to briefly face me, perhaps I’ve died and gone to heaven or perhaps I have misunderstood this situation.

“Finally for fucks sake.” Fred scoffed from above us, I knew I was in fact very much alive because Fred would not be in my idea of heaven humming disco songs as he rode his broom.

[arofili]

elves of arda ✹ gondolindrim ✹ headcanon disclaimer ✹ @gondolinweek

          Maeglin Lómion was the son of Aredhel Ar-Feiniel and Eöl the Dark Elf. He was born in the darkness of Nan Elmoth, where his father had laid an enchantment upon his mother to bind her to himself. For many years he was known only by his mother-name Lómion; Eöl called him only ion, “son,” until he at last named him Maeglin at the age of twelve. Eöl instructed his son in smithcraft and ósanwë, teaching him to make great works of iron and steel and to guard his thoughts from the prying minds of others. From time to time, Eöl would take Maeglin with him to dwarven settlements, where he learned of the Khazad and their ways.           Over eighty years, Aredhel slowly regained her independence, resisting Eöl’s spell and whispering tales of Valinor and Gondolin to Lómion. The desire for freedom and importance in distant Ondolindë took root in Lómion’s heart, and he grew bold in pushing back against his father’s constraints. When at last Eöl departed to visit the dwarves on his own, Maeglin seized his chance, stealing his father’s sword and urging his mother to flee. Emboldened and proud of her son, Aredhel took him and disappeared from the dark forest that had been her cage, headed toward Gondolin.           They arrived in Ondolindë and were met with great shock and greater joy, for Aredhel had been presumed dead, and she was the last elleth anyone would have guessed would have a son! For a day there was feasting and merriment, welcoming the indomitable Lady of the Tower of Snow back home, but soon the celebrations were cut short upon the arrival of Eöl, who had tracked his family to Gondolin and now demanded the return of his son.           King Turukáno was ill-pleased by Eöl’s demands, but at Aredhel’s insistence he gave his law-brother leave to remain in the city so long as he never departed. Enraged, Eöl refused, declaring that he would rather die than be trapped in a city of the Noldor, and choosing this fate for Maeglin also he drew forth a hidden javelin and cast it toward his son. Aredhel leapt to intercept the blow, fearing for Lómion’s life, but it was her own life put in danger when it was revealed the spearhead was poisoned.           On her deathbed, Aredhel begged mercy for her husband, no matter how ill he had treated her; but when his sister at last died in the night, Turukáno was filled with a cold rage and ordered Eöl’s execution despite her last will. Eöl was cast off the peak of Caragdûr, cursing with his last breath that Maeglin would die the same death as him. Shocked into silent horror, Maeglin watched, frozen, as the last vestige of his old life was brutally torn from him without his input or any chance for him to process Eöl’s cruelty.           Upon this great tragedy, Maeglin was left orphaned, and Turukáno took him under his wing. Maeglin was unused to the unfiltered Sunlight and the strange Noldorin customs in Ondolindë, and his grasp of Quenya was tenuous at best. For some years he appeared odd and reclusive to the Gondolindrim, and despite Turukáno’s awkward attempts to honor him as his nephew Maeglin never quite felt like he belonged among his Noldor kin. As Aredhel’s heir, he had some claim to inherit her title, but as he was young and grieving and entirely unfamiliar with the working of Ondolindë’s politics, none thought it wise to shoulder him with such a responsibility; instead Penlod of the Pillar reassumed their position as Lairde of the Tower of Snow in addition to their original house, for they had been a friend of Aredhel and had led her House for many years in her absence.           As the years passed and Maeglin came of age, he grew more confident in his position as the King’s nephew and revealed a more charming and charismatic side to the people of Gondolin. Yet he remained distant from Princess Itarillë, the King’s daughter and his own cousin, for in his heart lurked a secret desire for her. Never before had Maeglin looked upon another with such feelings, and they terrified him, especially as the two cousins were close in kin and Turukáno would occasionally express disdain for such unions. Itarillë seemed too beautiful and regal to be his, and he knew not how to handle such an impossible desire, having no one to turn to and confide in.           Penlod would at times invite Itarillë to accompany them and the folk of the Tower of Snow on hunts outside of Ondolindë. On one such occasion, Penlod also extended the invitation to Maeglin, who had not left Gondolin’s walls since his arrival seven years prior, ane he eagerly accepted. While on this ill-fated expedition, the hunters were attacked by white wolves from the mountains, and Maeglin and Itarillë were separated from the rest of the group.           Maeglin leapt to Itarillë’s defense, suffering a great wound from the wolves though he managed to fight them off with the might of Anguirel his father’s sword. Itarillë, who had learned some healing from her friend Meleth, insisted on treating his wounds; when conventional methods did little to staunch the bleeding, she insisted on Singin the wound closed despite Maeglin’s great reluctance. Maeglin knew that such a feat required the healer to reach into the injured party’s fëa, and in his vulnerable and half-delirious condition he feared she would learn of his feelings for her, which he had long kept secret in his carefully guarded mind.           At last Itarillë prevailed, and as she Sang healing into her cousin’s hröa, their fëar mingled and she was shocked to discover that Maeglin was infatuated her despite their close kinship, now rising to the surface of his thoughts despite his best efforts to keep his secrets hidden. Astonished and not a little bit horrified, Itarillë faltered, retreating from his mind and succeeding only in making his injury worse. Luckily, they were recovered by Penlod soon after, and Maeglin was tended to by more experienced healers, but the incident deeply affected both cousins. They never spoke of it again, and Itarillë distanced herself from Maeglin more than she had already, engendering further bitterness between them.           When Maeglin came of age, Turukáno granted him a lordship of his own and created for him the House of the Mole. This was the smallest of the Twelve Houses, drawing into its ranks some unattached smiths and miners and folk unsatisfied with their previous allegiances. Among these were many of the less fierce members of the Hammer of Wrath, intimidated by the fury of their peers and seeking a more close-knit society.          One such elf was the coppersmith Urundil, who quickly became a close counsellor of their new lord, aiding Maeglin in the exploration of the Echoriath. Together they discovered rich lodes of metal surrounding the city, forging weapons stronger than had been seen before and establishing Anghabar, a mine in the northern mountains. Another member of the House of the Mole was Poldamaitë, a blacksmith who had previously been of the House of the Swallow. She was wed to Cútasar, captain to Lord Tuilindo, and for her sake had agreed to join his House, though she felt ill-suited to its ranks of hunters and archers so unlike herself. Over the years conflict grew between the couple, eventually resulting in their separation and Poldamaitë’s joining of the folk of the Mole.           To those outside his House, Maeglin appeared aloof and strange, if also noble and charismatic. Yet none could deny his skill in smithcraft, rivalling even that of the Hammer of Wrath, and Lord Talagand of the Harp grew curious to see if this strange young lord was truly as prideful as folk said. He commissioned Maeglin to craft him a ceremonial weapon, bejeweled and impractical for true combat, and throughout the the process he grew fond of the young, isolated ellon and befriended him, drawing him out to social gatherings and advising him on how to interact with others unlike himself.           When Turukáno marched with ten thousand soldiers to fight in the Fifth Battle, he first asked Maeglin to act as regent in absence, but he insisted on accompanying the King to war, wanting to take part in the glorious deeds and make his mark on history. He proved to be valiant and wise in counsel, urging Turukáno to retreat when the battle went ill, saving the lives of many soldiers. He was present at the last meeting of Turukáno and Huor, a Man who as a child had been a guest in Gondolin and had seemed weak and frail to Maeglin, and he did not forget the prophecy of Huor’s last words, that a new star would rise from the Man and the King.           Upon returning to Ondolindë, Turukáno commissioned Maeglin and his folk to create the seventh and final gate of Gondolin, the Gate of Steel. Yet this gate would not keep out another Mannish interloper, for soon Tuor son of Huor came to Gondolin, claiming to be sent from Ulmo and counseling Turukáno to open the gates of his city and prepare for battle or else face destruction. To Maeglin this seemed absurdly and unnecessarily dangerous, and he was firm in his counsel to the King his uncle that there was no path to victory in open war. Weighing the advice of his valiant nephew against that of this strange Man, Turukáno sided with Maeglin and chose to ignore Ulmo’s warning.           Yet despite this small victory, Tuor soon rose to prominence among the Gondolindrim, charming the people and winning the affections of Princess Itarillë. To Maeglin’s great dismay, the two were soon wed, and he saw Itarillë snatched away from him forever. He had never truly labored under the delusion that she could love him, but this irrevocable bond to a mortal Man of all people made Maeglin even more bitter and jealous toward her beauty and happiness.           Within a year, a son, Eärendil, was born to Itarillë and Tuor. Despite himself, the little babe won Maeglin’s affections, for none could hate such a bonny child as he. Maeglin made no secret of his distrust of Tuor, but for the sake of his son he crafted a small mithril coat for Eärendil that even Itarillë could not deny.           Yet despite the joy Eärendil brought to all of Ondolindë, Maeglin’s sorrow and resentment only deepened, especially as the King forbade any to venture beyond the confines of the Echoriath even for mining and hunting. The folk of the Tower of Snow submitted to this mandate, but Maeglin refused, going out alone past the boundaries of Ondolindë despite the counsel of Urundil and his other friends.           On one such journey, Maeglin was taken captive by an orc-band and dragged to Angband itself, where he was tortured and interrogated by Morgoth and his lieutenant for the location of Gondolin. Maeglin held out as long as he could, but eventually his torment grew too much, and Morgoth’s offer of lordship of the city and the hand of Idril in marriage too tempting. At last he confessed the location of the hidden kingdom, and was sent back to Gondolin with a spell of bottomless dread placed upon him to prevent him from confessing his treachery.           Though Maeglin’s change in demeanor was noticed by many, only Talagand approached him after his reappearance to inquire after his health. Caught in Morgoth’s spell, Maeglin found himself unable to confess his torment, and what little he could say succeeded only in unsettling his only friend. Often, Maeglin would approach Itarillë in private, attempting to warn her of the coming danger as he believed that she alone possessed the capability to save Gondolin. Yet each time, his words died in his throat and he would flee into the darkness, consumed by guilt and shame.           Shortly before the celebration of Tarnin Austa, nearly a year after his capture, Maeglin forged an enchanted dagger akin to Glamdring, the King’s sword forged by Rôg, and its mate Orcrist, his own sword forged under Rôg’s tutelage. The blade would glow should the Enemy draw near, and he made it with the specific purpose of warning its bearer of Morgoth’s impending attack. He gave this dagger to Itarillë, half-hoping she would use it against him and end his misery, but she was only further troubled by what she interpreted as a threat and set aside the knife, never to use it.           Each of his plans failing, Maeglin made one last attempt to warn the Gondolindrim of their doom. Recalling the prophecy of Amnon, that “when the lily of the valley withers then shall Turgon fade,” and the lily-blossoms of Glingal, Turukáno’s golden replica of Laurelin, Maeglin came to the tree under the cover of night and took his hammer to its flower. The next morning, the lilies were found tarnished and dented, but despite Amnon’s urgings that Turukáno ought to heed this obvious “sign from the Valar,” once more the King refused to listen.           On the morn of Tarnin Austa, Morgoth’s armies attacked Gondlin and its great Fall began. Maeglin’s mind was torn asunder, the spell upon him eating away at his will and his despair at his failure crumbling away any last attempts at resistance. Overcome, Maeglin found himself urging Turukáno to remain rather than flee, and the Gondolindrim engaged in battle with the Enemy. As Itarillë slipped away to prepare the secret passage she and Tuor had been constructing since her husband’s arrival, Maeglin ordered Talagand to delay Tuor’s soldiers as he rushed after his cousin with murderous intent.           His mental defenses tattered and torn, Maeglin accosted Itarillë and her son, and the depth of his treason became clear. Itarillë attempted to fight him off, but with a few loyal warriors at his side, including ever-faithful Urundil, Maeglin captured her and dragged her to the cliffside where his father had been slain. Raving and mad, Maeglin tried to impress upon her that Morgoth’s victory was inevitable and that it would be a kinder fate for all of them to die at his hands rather than be tortured by the Enemy’s servants.           The deepest horror of all, in his crumbling mind, would be Eärendil’s inevitable corruption, and to spare him this dreadful fate Maeglin seized the child and made to throw him off the walls of the city. Itarillë resisted him with her sword, and Maeglin lamented to her that she did not use his gifted dagger, and in a moment of desperation their minds touched briefly one last time. Maeglin’s fëa shattered as he tried to tell her all of what he had done, all of his regrets and sins and wrongdoings, but also of his futile love for her and her son despite everything.           In that moment Tuor arrived, rushing to the defense of his wife and child. He broke through Maeglin’s guard, slaying Urundil, and attacked Maeglin with a vengeance. Maeglin swung his blade wildly, striking little Eärendil, but his blow was in vain for the child wore the mithril coat he himself had crafted. Swiftly, Tuor broke Maeglin’s arm, recovered Eärendil, and as soon as Itarillë had the boy safely in her arms he pressed Maeglin to the edge of Caragdûr and shoved him off the edge.           Thus fell Maeglin, dying the same death as his father. His name would be cursed by the exiles of Gondolin, going down in history as the most wretched traitor of all the Eldar, though Idril herself never spoke against him, her sorrow for the tragedy of her cousin’s corruption and fall too deep for her to resent his evil deeds with true fury. Yet not every member of the House of the Mole joined their lord in his treachery, and some, including Poldamaitë, fought against the Enemy in the Fall. Poldamaitë clashed swords with her estranged wife in the Square of the King, but they were swiftly reconciled and perished fighting back to back, consumed by a Balrog’s fire.           In time, all those Maeglin wronged would find healing in the Halls of Mandos and the Gardens of Lórien. Then and only then would he be reborn himself, departing to a quiet life in Aman where he could dwell with his mother, the only person to ever love him without reservations, and perhaps even forge new bonds in this his second life.

[cheri-translates]

desserts - translated comics (m - v)

complete your dining experience on a lovely note with these assorted treats.

artist names beginning with a - j / k-l / w-z

💝 = all / special l  🎐 = gavin l 🌟 = kiro

🦋 = lucien l 🦈 = shaw l 🌹 = victor

mai a / 麦啊

🌟 highschool au

🌟 life with agent savin

🌟 pet names

🌟 two children

🌟 the button

-

mai cha xue zhang / 麦茶学长

💝 when she turns small

💝 crush on a table mate series:

gavin l kiro l lucien l victor

🌟 bubble gum

🌟 dazzling

🦈 date in the rain

-

miaoooooo / 喵哦哦哦哦哦

🎐 sub-menu

-

mi li xuan shi / 米粒玄师

🌹 the little things

-

_minnnk / _minooooa

💝 these three years

💝 crossing into the new year

💝 mature men vs young men

🌹 with you, victor

🌹 a sick victor

🌹 just a normal cocktail party

🌹 traces

🌹 if victor’s a player

-

nan feng jing nian chui / 南风经年吹

🎐 sub-masterlist

-

ni ni cam / 霓霓cam

🎐 new years

🎐 q&a

🎐 checking his backpack

🎐 borrowing the commander

🦋 sorry

🦋 overtime

-

nk

🌟 drawing

🦈 is it true?

🦈 snippets of shaw

🦈 if only we could prolong this moment

🦈 scent of honey peaches

-

norelle-n

🎐 sub-menu

-

notlight111

💝 sub-menu

-

one wan zi gan / one丸子乾

💝 sub-masterlist

-

pockycity

💝 sub-menu

-

ren shi jun / 人士▲菌

🎐 surprise attack

🎐 gav

🎐 always wanted to do this

-

qian li pi li pa la / 千里噼里啪啦

💝 if they were in a boy band

🦈 hug

🦈 how shaw feels

🦈 lollipop

🦈 beat him

🦈 shaw’s hair

🦈 asleep

🦈 second anniversary

-

qian li quan quan / 百里犬犬

💝 the wish tree

🎐 dogvin

🎐 gavin during the city stroll

🎐 gavin’s daily journey

🎐 bai qi

🌟 new spring date

-

qian si jin tian ye xiang jie li xian sheng de ling dai / 浅祀今天也想解李先生的领带

🦋 online class

🦈 indirect kiss

🌹 drawing game

-

qing lai yi wan xiao chao rou / 请来一碗小炒肉

🎐 firecracker stall

🎐 food preferences

-

qiu tian de ai se / 秋天的哀色

💝 adorable pets

🌟 life with a kiro nendoroid series

part one l part two l part three

🌟 memorable s2 kiro scenes

🌟 no regrets

-

ruo an nan / 若安楠

🎐 liar

🎐 jade ring

🎐 little wolf gavin

🎐 hair

🎐 happy birthday

-

shan ye meng long / 山也朦胧

🦈 after a business trip

-

shi tou dan la la / 石头蛋啦啦

🎐 can’t use his evol properly

🎐 after work

🎐 reflex

🎐 surprise

-

shu qiu a / 书秋啊 

💝 sub-masterlist

-

shui huo / 水火

💝 kfc

-

song shu na ge yu ya / 松鼠那个鱼呀

💝 beach

💝 hearts

🎐 graduation

🎐 cool down

🎐 fishing

🎐 together

🎐 smiles

🎐 famiglistimo

🎐 sleepy wolfvin

🎐 greenie should be...

-

su mei bing gan / 酥莓饼干

💝 sub-masterlist 

-

tailless bear

🎐 sub-masterlist

-

tang xu / 唐絮

🎐 competitive game date

🎐 one more line

🎐 life with a pet

🌟 no more

🌹 after a quarrel

🌹 is this one sweet?

🌹 life with victor

-

tao hua zhi he / 桃花纸鹤

💝 halloween

🎐 comfort

🎐 kfc commercial

🎐 first encounter

🎐 protection money

🎐🦈 pretty accurate

🎐🦈 the wrong kid

🎐🦈 the strongest

🎐 surprise

🌟 reading comments

🦈 shaw’s special ability

🦈 shoujo manga protagonist

🦈 misunderstanding

🍒 return to the menu 🍒