#meanwhile my mum makes light of the situation

[abluehappyface]

There are times where I think my mum just doesn't care about my safety the way she should, but it's not like I can do shit about it

[opencommunion]

"We decided to come to this farm because we could not find any other place to go to," said Rafat Lukman, whose family of 32 includes newborns and small children. "We came here thinking that we can put up with it for a few days, but this war has taken much longer. I cannot believe that my own children are sleeping in cages where chickens slept. I look at them and my heart breaks for the childhood I am giving them. But what else could I do?" From inside the chicken cages, the children can easily spot the Egyptian-controlled Rafah border with its high walls covered with barbed wires. "My daughter took her teddy bear with her when we evacuated the first time. She'd kept it with her the whole time," Lukman said. "But the other day, it rained and the farm flooded. She was sleeping in the cage and her teddy fell into the rainwater and got lost. She cried so much about it the next day. And again, her mum and I felt so helpless. We can't even get her a new teddy bear." Lukman's children say they have become used to their new reality now and it is difficult to remember that one day they had a house and bedrooms. "We are still lucky that we are not dead and that our parents are alive," Rafat's 12-year-old daughter, Mais, said. "But to be honest, I still feel scared sleeping in the cages. They are very cold and dark at night. I have always hated insects, but they are everywhere here, and I cannot do anything about it." In central Gaza, meanwhile, displaced people have also been living in squalid conditions due to overcrowding in shelters - which include schools, hospitals and mosques - and lack of basic services, including clean water, sanitation and a working sewage system. Abu Ahmed Jaber, a father and grandfather, had been sheltering in a UN-run school and decided to go back to his house that was bombed one afternoon while the family was home having lunch.  "The situation in the schools is horrible. They are overcrowded. No toilets, no food, no water and no privacy whatsoever. So I decided to come back with my family to my bombed house and live in whatever space was left standing," Jaber told MEE. When Israel bombed his house, smoke engulfed the family, blackening the afternoon light. "We thought we were dead," Jaber said. The elderly man and his sons pulled out their pregnant sister and her one-year-old daughter from under the rubble with their bare hands. The family fled to a school for shelter, where his daughter bled for hours before an ambulance was able to make its way to them. Despite their traumatic experience, Jaber, who suffers from heart problems and diabetes, made the decision to return to their destroyed home in Bureij, in central Gaza, because he felt that all other alternatives lacked dignity. "This is my house. How can I let go of it? I literally built it with my hands stone by stone. I look at it 20 times a day and I struggle with the fact that I cannot even rebuild or fix anything," said Jaber, in a voice full of sorrow and anger. "I cry every night. I cannot even sleep anymore. If I fall asleep and wake up for any reason, I cannot fall back asleep. I am living a very primitive life amid the rubble, but I would rather do that than leave my house and evacuate from one place to another like chess pieces. And what for? What have I and my family done?" ... Palestinians in Gaza are living today what their grandparents lived over 70 years ago, and the fear of never being able to return is at the heart of their concern. "If the house is destroyed, the land is still there, and it is mine. I would rather die here than live another Nakba like my family did before me," Jaber said.

17 Feb 24

[loudblonde]

Simon "Ghost" Riley X Male!Reader Mafia AU (Chapter Two) "Eye Contact"

(Y/N) and Ghost talk about the past, present, and potential futures. (Y/N) annoy Ghost out of boredom and maybe a tiny bit of revenge. Meanwhile, both continue on with their awkward dance around each other as they try to navigate their current situation.

+18 Themes, Minors do not interact you will be blocked. Please reblog it means a lot.

Warnings: Panic attack, graphic mentions of violence, mentions/references to child abuse, mention and depiction of a sexual theme (not written out), talk about murder and cleaning up blood, talk about torture and graphic description of torture. Canon typical violence.

Word count: 5657

The sun rose early, sending light through the trees. Dew had settled on grass blades outside the house. A cold chilly air surrounded the place.

(Y/N) sighed as he woke up, always an early riser no matter when he went to bed. He made quick work of stripping off night clothes and getting dressed in something light but still warm. Black casual office wear slacks and a white loose t-shirt hiding his figure within the folds. Overall comfortable.

With socked feet, he carefully walked into the kitchen to see breakfast already made and a note to not wander off, signed by a skull. (Y/N) chuckled at that as he brewed a cup of tea for himself before eating the eggs and toast quickly. “Surprisingly good.” He muttered as he cleaned the kitchen, making it seem as though no one had ever used it.

Once ensuring the cleanliness of the space, (Y/N) grabbed a notebook and settled outside on the patio that overlooked the lakeside.

“Wish you could be here mum.” He said as he began writing in his notebook, everything was heavily encrypted, his mother made sure he knew how to encrypt notes well enough that no one would ever be able to crack it. His personal code was constantly shifting and changing, making sure to always memorise it before straying further, the beginning of this notebook's writing was nothing like the current.

A car pulled up, not that (Y/N) was overly paying attention to it, having filed that car's noise away as safe.

(Y/N) rubbed his shoulder absentmindedly, the memory of that lesson still lingered in his joints. “What are you writing?” A deep raspy voice behind him said. (Y/N) leaned his head back and looked up at the skulled man, his babysitter.

“You are silent. Thank you for the food, it was good.” (Y/N) said.

Ghost’s eyes widened ever so slightly before they returned to normal. “Not a problem, can’t have you dying on my watch.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “No? You ‘fraid dad would skin ya’ for that?” He said.

Ghost chuckled shortly. “I think I would let him, can’t hurt my boss’s kid. So what are you writing? It doesn’t look like any language I know.”

“I described the area, the trees, the smell. Everything. To remember.” He said and handed him the journal. “It’s coded because it’s just for me, so no one can retrace my steps if they get their hands on it.”

Ghost flipped through the pages, (Y/N) leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling the first of many warm rays hit his skin. He doesn’t care if he looks ridiculous. He just wanted to enjoy the bit of sun before undoubtedly being forced inside.

“You drew Gaz sleeping?” Ghost asked. His voice was monotone, not betraying anything.

(Y/N) smiled without opening his eyes. “Yes. He took me here from across the country, slept in the same motel room, sometimes nights are… rough, if you get what I mean. Insomnia is hard to deal with but I manage.”

“Insomnia?” Ghost mused. “Using good code makes my job easier.” Ghost said and placed the book on the table.

(Y/N) opened both eyes and looked up at Ghost, catching his eyes staring into his. (E/C) met those pale blue eyes and for just a moment, neither spoke or took a breath, it was as though the action itself would break the moment.

(Y/N) cleared his throat and sat up, quickly and with practised ease he turned around in his seat before standing up, facing Ghost. “Don’t worry Ghost, I don’t plan on making your life difficult, at least not until I get familiar with the city and the areas we work in, I am not a spoiled brat who isn’t aware I have things to learn and know before gaining freedom, you can rest assured that I will do anything in my might to become a better and stronger leader than my father who is a very good leader.”

Ghost gave a court nod. “I see nothing wrong with you yet, the boss trusts you and that is good enough for me.”

“Good, then we are on the same page, we will spend these 30 days getting to know each other somehow.” (Y/N) said. “We will need it for further business.”

Ghost thought about that before he nodded. “Yes, I bought enough food for two weeks.” Ghost said as he walked into the house, picking up the food along the way.

(Y/N) grabbed his book and followed him in, helping him get everything set away before pausing. “… Ghost, with all due respect… those eggs, were they chicken?”

“… the ones from this morning?” Ghost asked as he placed cans of soup up in the cupboards.

“Yes.” (Y/N) slowly turned to look at Ghost.

Ghost looked at him. “Erm… no. There wasn't anything in the fridge so I made do with what I could find. The veggies were frozen down sometime… I don't know when.”

(Y/N) ran a hand down his face. “Okay, I regret I asked.”

Ghost shrugged and finished putting things away. “I didn’t think you would be squeamish.”

(Y/N) shook his head as he looked away. “I am not but the idea of eating other bird eggs is just weird even if it tasted godly.”

(Y/N) didn’t notice Ghost’s pause at that. “Well we got other eggs now, so you don’t have to worry about that.” Ghost sounded amused.

(Y/N) grunted and looked at him. “Sit as my model for a few hours and I won't ever complain about it again.” It was an empty threat.

Ghost thought about it, he didn’t particularly care and they had nothing else to do while here, so he shrugged. “Mask stays on.”

(Y/N) smiled at that. “I like your mask, I don’t mind it staying on. Sit in the sun, I will grab my supplies.” (Y/N) said as he walked off.

Ghost sat down on a comfortable chair only to see (Y/N) carry a thin rigid bag of supplies with him. He sat it down and opened it to what could be mistaken for torture devices if one glanced over it.

Various knives decorated the tool kit and several sharp pencils were carefully tugged into a closed sleeve, it was clean and cared for, even if it did have some paint splotches.

(Y/N) grabbed a pencil and the paper block before leaning back and began sketching, the whole time Ghost didn’t take his eyes off (Y/N), he just watched in dispassionate fascination. The way he focused entirely on what was ahead of him, fully focused on his whole body on display. Now had Ghost been more in touch with his emotions he may have blushed at the idea of a man such as (Y/N) constantly looking at him, taking in his body and dissecting it as he drew each part of him, but Ghost was not in touch with his emotions, especially any emotions connected to a man he could never ever get into bed. Ghost wasn’t unrealistic. Despite the drawing of Gaz tied up in bed, cock strained and lea- Ghost shook his head, getting rid of the thoughts, they wouldn’t help him in any way.

Ghost sat for an hour before his phone rang, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and took the call. “Soap, better be important.”

“A son!” Soap yelled from the phone line, almost making Ghost vince.

“Yes, I am aware.” Ghost said as monotone as possible.

“He had a whole son who was trained by the fucking Viper and he didn’t tell anyone.” Soap continued ranting. Ghost vaguely remembered the name but didn’t connect it to anything or anyone. “Not only that but he is in the country right now and apparently Gaz of all people knows him well enough to have his phone number.” Ghost let him rant.

“Hm, well I mean he is sitting across from me right now so I don’t see what the big deal is, we do have some issues with the Russians so it makes sense to delay everything for a month.” Ghost said, catching (Y/N)’s attention.

“Damn you for being clever, so is this a good lad or should we be worried?” Soap asked.

“Don’t worry, he is safe.” Ghost said, choosing not to comment on the fact he hadn’t entirely answered the others' question.

“Okay good, you would expect that from his upbringing.” Soap said. Ghost knew the man well so he knew he was scratching his neck.

“Don’t scratch your sore, Johnny.” Ghost said only to be met with a chuckle coming from the other end.

“You know me too well old friend, I need to go deal with someone,” And with that Soap hung up and Ghost slid the phone into the pocket again.

“How did Soap get his name?” (Y/N) asked as he kept drawing.

Ghost smiled under the mask. “Back when Price first found me and him, Price was established but had been betrayed, took us in to train us. We were young, about 15.” Ghost said. “Started way higher than anyone else but we were promising, Johnny or rather Soap is highly competitive so once we were asked to clean up a scene and Johnny got it done so fast and efficient, that he was nicknamed Soap. Price spent two weeks chuckling.”

(Y/N) smiled at that. “That is an actually funny story for a name.”

Ghost hummed. “Do you have an earned name?”

(Y/N) paused and looked at Ghost. “Chip.” He said before going back to his drawing of the man.

“Chip? What kinda name is that?” Ghost asked, a little taken back.

(Y/N) shrugged. “I love anatomy and I am very good at estimating blood loss, so in order to get information I would slowly chip away at someone's flesh, removing bit by bit avoiding major arteries and any place I know they will bleed out from too quickly and let me tell you when people see their arm slowly become only bone and a few major veins, they tend to become quite the chatterboxes. Them or someone they care about, don’t care, both get killed afterwards.”

Ghost whistled impressed. “That sounds brutal but fun to learn, did you ever fuck up?”

“Oh yeah, multiple times but I learned from it, knew what not to do, what information to ask beforehand.” He said as he placed the pencil down. He stood up and walked over to Ghost before showing the man the drawing.

Ghost took the sketch block and glanced over the drawing quickly before his eyes widened. In front of him sat not Ghost the Bodyguard, who had faced trial after trial, been shot at, stabbed and even burnt alive, no there was someone from a faraway land, a man so ethereal and yet dark that Ghost could only recognise his skull mask that had been made into another mask as a skull heated up and warped by the hellfire that surrounded him, from the broken and warped skull mask 2 beautiful and twisted horns grew, twisted in a way that made it look like they were being forced away from growing together, his clothes was dark and torn though looked vaguely like an angels clothes, it was further proven by the burnt wings behind him or rather the bony stumps that were left with charred feathers and flesh still holding onto the wings, perhaps hoping and begging for a chance to get away from everything, to fly again.

“A fallen angel.” Ghost said.

“Yes, but one who has accepted his fate.” (Y/N) said. With one sentence and one drawing Ghost has never felt more raw and exposed, not even the time an enemy attempted to brainwash him and they cut him open, the scars were still raised and hurt more than he could ever describe.

His hands shook slightly as he gave the drawing back. “You have talent.” Ghost said, his voice even raspier and shaky.

(Y/N) shrugged as he sat his drawing block down, closing it in the process. “Not really, but I do find it peaceful to draw.”

Ghost stood. “You should keep drawing, I will check the perimeter.” Ghost said as he left (Y/N) behind. He didn’t even take his boots on as he stumbled out the door, his mind racing and driving a million miles an hour. For someone so guarded and so closed off, for someone so incapable of feeling his own emotions, yet this young man was able to see everything within a day of knowing each other. (Y/N) may as well have ripped his mask off and seen the Glasgow smile cut into his cheeks or even worse, actually have been there when his own father, Mister Riley, did it to him.

Ghost stumbled into a tree a long way away from the lake house, he could still smell the lake so he wasn’t worried about being too far away. His hands shook as he struggled to keep upright, memories and emotions he had pushed down and repressed were resurfacing and coming to light in ways he never thought possible, all because of a dumb… no, a very pretty drawing.

In that moment of fear, confusion and overall terror from being known so much, Ghost fell to his knees and looked up into the sky, his eyes burned from unshed tears that wanted to spill even with Simon holding them back, nay forcing them back. He couldn’t be weak, Simon had to be Ghost, not the weak pathetic Simon who no one cared about, not even Price. He grabbed at his mask, tearing it off as he struggled to breathe, panic flowing through him as though he was buried again.

Simon tried getting his breath under control, he shouldn’t be weak, Ghost wasn’t weak. Even if his boss told his son about the mask and about why, why Ghost was here and Simon wasn’t, he shouldn’t have reacted this pathetically to the drawing.

Ghost took a deep breath, letting everything fall away and be pushed deep down. Letting all emotions fade away into the nothingness he was so used to.

From the ground, Ghost stood up and placed the mask back on. He took a deep breath and headed back inside only to see a cup of tea standing on the table by the door. He carefully read the note over:

Ghost

I am sorry if I offended you with the drawing, I was told you liked tea over coffee so here is a cuppa earl grey, 2 sugars and a splash of milk.

(Y/N)

Ghost faintly smiled for a second before taking the cup to his bedroom to drink. He carefully slipped the mask over his face and tasted it. “Not bad for a foreigner.” He muttered.

Later that day (Y/N) walked into the kitchen to see Ghost sitting peacefully by a laptop writing something. “What are you writing?”

“Emails and paperwork, unfortunately, I still have work like that.” He said. “Roach is holding down the fortress though, I trained him well.”

(Y/N) hummed at that as he sat opposite Ghost. “Sounds tedious. Roach is a cool name, undoubtedly there is a story. What should I expect?”

Ghost looked at him. “He survived an explosion, I pulled him out of it myself, he doesn’t speak but does use BSL.” Ghost said. “Talented scout and overall good at what he does, I took him under my wing, he is probably the closest thing to a younger brother that I have.”

“Anyone else I should know about?” (Y/N) asked.

Ghost leaned back. “We work with the Chief of Police, Sheppards. We agree to get rid of a few people opposing him here and there, line his pocket with a little ‘something something’ and he looks away when we conduct our business most of the time anyway.” He said.

“Very smart but he is untrustworthy, as everyone is in this world.” He said.

“You already know Kate and her wife?” Ghost asked.

“Hmm, yeah, they are good people, Kate helped me fake my papers and get into the country for the first time.” He said. “Permanent residence.”

Simon chuckled. “She is absolutely brilliant.”

��That she is, she is a treasure to us all, I can only be grateful she wouldn’t turn against us.” (Y/N) said. “We would be fucked if she did.”

Ghost simply nodded at that. “I fully agree.” He said.

They fell into silence again, both staring at each other, both maintaining eye contact without blinking. (Y/N) was not an open book, no matter how much Ghost wanted it, he couldn’t get a read on the younger man. Ghost pushed down any feelings from earlier as (Y/N) gave him a smile, a genuine smile. “Tell me about yourself.” His voice held a surprising softness Ghost hadn’t heard in years, maybe never had.

“You already know my story. Didn’t your dad tell you about me?” Ghost said, a little annoyed by it.

“Truthfully he only told me you have a past and wear that mask to not facw it, he also told me you were as emotionally constipated as any war vet he had ever met who refused to get help.” (Y/N) said.

Ghost looked away, breaking eye contact. “He might be right about that emotion talk.”

(Y/N) never looked away or moved to talk to him. “Emotions are not an enemy until we don’t face them. That may just be something that sounds weak but my grandfather who is still in the business of taking out people, said that in order to overcome any weakness we must look within for answers. Only when your mind is most clear and your body stops trembling, you take the shot.”

“Your grandad is a sniper.” Ghost said, looking back, all emotions devoid from his eyes, leaving behind a cold and empty storm-filled ocean.

“Aye he was, best person at it that I know, taught me enough that I wouldn’t have to worry about anything.” (Y/N) said.

Ghost looked back to his computer. “Did he serve or did he simply work?”

“He worked, then served before coming back to work.” (Y/N) said. “Make a killer stew, no pun intended.”

If Ghost let out a little huff of amusement that was between him and whatever cruel god existed.

“And what about you, do you have a partner or someone you may settle down with? Any pretty bird or bloke?” Ghost asked.

“Nah, I don’t think much is gonna happen, half my body is littered with scars and the other half looks rough as hell. Not much of a looker underneath these clothes.” (Y/N) said. “Besides, once had someone say that she would feel bad for any woman who had to date me, the fucking part would be good but putting up with my emotional distance and issues were too much for anyone to ever do.” He said.

Ghost glanced up from his screen. “That’s rough, so you just sleep around then?” He looked back down.

“I need a connection, however small, Gaz was…” He smiled a bit, not that Ghost caught it, “Well Gaz was Gaz, a sweet man who was there at the right time but there was no connection besides desire and lust from us both.” (Y/N) said. “Though there was this one man I knew, they called him King or rather König.” He said with a smirk. “Best lay I ever had, man was begging and whimpering the entire time, asking me to go faster and harder. We met in Austria, don’t know the specifics of what he does, but man I miss him.” He said.

Ghost felt his mouth go dry without knowing why. “Sounds wonderful.” He replied dryly.

“You were the one to ask, knowing you know about Gaz and I, I figured me being into just about anyone wouldn’t be a problem.” (Y/N) leaned on the table and looked at Ghost. “Is it a problem?”

Ghost looked up at him, eyes dark with something (Y/N) couldn’t describe but it was bothering him.

“No. I don’t care if you sleep with women, men, women and men or no one. Just need to know for security reasons, can’t have your throat slit by two enemies who want you dead.” Ghost responded.

(Y/N) looked into his eyes a moment before leaning back. “That is fair.” He said as he held his arms up. “What about you? Are you with a woman?”

“I don’t have the time.” Ghost said.

(Y/N) paused and looked at Ghost work for several moments as he tried to understand it.

“So you haven’t slept with anyone in ages or you have never slept with anyone?” He asked.

Ghost grunted. “It’s been a while, security must be tight.”

(Y/N) waved his arms. “Wait, wait, wait… that is just… sorry man, if you couldn’t do something you wanted to do simply because of this job-” (Y/N) started only to get interrupted, “- Your dad gives me vacation, I don’t… like you said there should be a connection, not just some random hook up…” He said. “Those don’t lead to anything good.”

His tone was enough for (Y/N) to not push it further. “Alright.” He said and that softness returned for a moment. “How do you want to pass the time these long 30 days?”

“30 days isn’t so long.” Ghost replied.

“It’s late summer and it will be autumn by the time we return.” He said. “The TV doesn’t work and half the books I have already read. So, how are we passing the time?”

Ghost sighed. “You could go for a swim, the lake is clean and should be warm enough.” He said.

(Y/N) thought about it. “That is one way, yes, how else?” He asked.

“Why are you so abatement that I entertain you?.” Ghost asked, annoyance clear in his tone.

“Because you are the only person in a 30-mile radius and I am a social person despite my upbringing, I like people and I know damn well I need to sit on my ass anyway. Plus, you are amongst the most important people to know and know well.” (Y/N) said, despite how annoying it was, he did have a point, Ghost silently concluded.

“Fine, but I am bringing out the alcohol for that, I can’t be sober and chat about whatever you want and neither will you.” Ghost said.

(Y/N) smiled widely. “Deal.” He said as he stood up, clearing his throat.

Tag List:

@rasberry-jupiter

Please reblog if you liked it, I really appreciate it if you do.

[kornstreifs-storys]

AoR, Ch. 1, Page 11

Dune took a deep breath. It was finally time to make her decision. Though she kinda already knew what she wanted. You know, when I was younger I was facinated by Ground-types, she smiled at the recollection, once I told my mum that I wanted to evolve into a Sandslash, when I was bigger. Her smile grew, Imagine my dissapointment when she told me that I couldn't.

She looked up at the Legendary, So if I can be any Type I want, then I want to be a Ground-type. The Seraphores Masks rotated, the happy mask facing Dune, they closed their eyes in acknowledgement. Then I shall evolve you into a Ground-type. They responded, then their eyes began to glow and Energy gathered around Dune.

The Ground-type Eeveelution is called Arideon, they evolve by leveling when knowing the move Sand Armor. The Legend spoke, I gave you the Energy to evolve, once you get back to your body it will trigger. Then they hovered over and opened a portal in front of Dune.

What ... is that? Dune asked a bit fightend. Now it is time for you to go back. I opened the way back for you, but you will have to walk it on your own. I can not assist you any further. Dune looked down the dark path in front of her, But how can I find my way, ... it's so dark? The Legendary closed their eyes, Call out to your friends, let them be your beacon. Their love for you will pull you back. But be aware, your deepest inner demons will hear your call as well. Don't listen to them.

As Dune stepped froward, the Seraphore created a sphere of light and gave it to her, Take this part of me with you, may it illuminate your path into the future. This is the last thing I can do for you. Now go, I've already resurected your body. It's eagerly awaiting yor soul. And with that Dune stepped into the dark void in front of her.

Meanwhile

Kuro didn't know how long he had slept, but it hadn't been long. It was completely dark around him. He remebered that he had dreamed of Dune, she had been talking to a Jirachi for some reason. He shook his head. What nonsense, this situation was driving him crazy. He looked over to Kiara, she was awake.

Can't sleep? she asked, letting out a big yawn. Kuro smiled just a little. Yeah, to bad Raichu can't learn yawn though, otherwise you'd send me right back to sleep. The smile faded again and Kuro fixated Dune with sorrowful eyes. Kiara got up and walked over to him. She sat down next to him and followed his gaze. How old was she? she asked quietly.

Kuro fought back the tears that were welling up. She would have been 11 next month. She's just 2 years younger than me. Kiaras eyes widened, But that would mean she was born, ... she didn't continue, but Kuro finished her sentence. Yeah, she was born on the day without sun. he grimaced, To think that she could have been fine if she had just been born one day earlier.

The tears creeped up his troat once more, but this time it seemed that Kiara couldn't hold back any longer. One way or the other, just as Kuro was about to break down once again, Kiara hugged him and pulled his head on her shoulder. Kuro was surprised for a second but then he acceped her compasion. He embraced the hug and let his emotions flow.

After a few minutes he pulled back. Thank you. he wispered. Kiara looked up at the moon. No problem, she replied she meant a lot to you right? Do you want to talk about it. Might help with the grief. Kuro looked at her, he hadn't forgotten about the fact that he literally just met her today. But she had helped him and Dune so much.

He let out a sigh. Then he rested his head on his paws and began his story. Well, lets start at the beginning shall we? You must know Dune and I grew up in the same clan, but I actually wasn't born there. He paused for a second and thougth of his childhood. A voice echoed throug his head. Were in Gaias name did you find this child? They look half dead! They were out in the forest. I couldn't just leave them there!

He shook his head. It's not that important, but I came from outside the clan. They adoped me as a child. I never knew my parents. He reminisced on his childhood. I can't have been older then a few month, but even back then I was interested in medicine. And I really wanted to pay back the clan. So I became a nurse and helped heal the sick.

He looked up to the Stars. The entire clan was made up of Eevees and Eeveelutions, so no one could use healing moves to begin with and so they let me try. My first solo job I got at about 2 years old. I was just to assist with a hatching, Dunes hatching. A simple job, or so it should have been.

Kiara interupted Kuro at this point. So you guys are from the clans, huh? I would have guessed you were from the cities. Kuro chuckled, I wish we were, the cities would have been a safer place for Dune to grow up. Then he got sad again, We probably wouldn't have needed to go on this journey. Then she'd still be alive.

As he said that Kiaras gaze wandered over to Dunes body, then he saw her flinch. She got up and hurried over to her, Kuro followed her. She looked at him, eyes wide, Kuro, look. She's breathing. Kuro stared in disbelieve. Had it actually worked. He checked on Dune. Kiara was right she was breathing. Her pulse is also back. he wispered.

Then he curled up around her and mumbeled repeatedly, Oh thank Anima. Thank the Gods.

================================================

Start / previous / next Cover

Arideons Dex entry was unlocked.

[jennagrinsoverml]

Do you have any Adrien-centric angst fics? Like, fics that will completely gut you emotionally and you have to lay down for an hour after you read it just to decompress?something like that?

I've recced angst fics before, but let's have some SADRIEN hours around here, shall we?

a fight that you were born to lose by @captainkirkk

When the prosecution starts throwing around the word victim in reference to Adrien, he has to stuff his hands under his thighs to keep himself from bolting out of the courtroom.

Adrien had felt unsafe during those last few weeks, but, until he had woken up and seen Father silhouetted in his bedroom doorway, that had only been paranoia. Father was controlling and cold, but he wasn’t hateful. Adrien was isolated. He was often hungry. And some weeks ago, when he had snuck out to visit Nino, sitting thigh-to-thigh on his bed while Adrien cried in that silent, crumbling way of his, he hadn’t argued when Nino put a hand on his shoulder and said, tentatively, That’s abuse.

But Adrien remembers being small and Father touching his hair after he’d aced another test; Father holding his scribbled drawings like they were something precious, and framing them around his office; Father, dressed as Hawkmoth, his eyes wild behind the mask, lashing his sword against Adrien’s baton; Father, collapsed against Mum, crying into her ashy hair.

Adrien finds out Gabriel is Hawkmoth, and Gabriel gets to bring his long-waited plan into action.

One-shot. (But a LONG one-shot--it's 18k.) This one really digs deep into the abuse that Adrien suffers at Gabriel's hands and the emotional fallout from that. Gabriel is really, really, really terrible here. Worse, I don't think it's OOC at all. This fic is gorgeous, but it's a hard read and it goes to some dark places.

Anhedonia/When Adrien Met Marinette... by @mikauzoran

Chat Noir hadn’t been lying when he told Ladybug he’d moved on. It was only when he found out that Ladybug was Marinette that he realized he was wrong. Meanwhile, Marinette thinks that she’s missed her chance when Adrien insists that he’s gotten over his feelings. Now, they’re roommates and making themselves miserable as they pine for one another, thinking the situation’s hopeless. Things finally come to a head, and they’re forced to sit down and have an honest conversation about their feelings.

One-shot. Adrien's just so sad and lonely and pining here, and I'm here for it. I really found myself getting swept away in his feelings as I was reading. This isn't dark and doesn't get into any heavy issues like some of the other fics on this list, but I found that it was very relatable and evoked a lot of emotion.

Adrien and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by @vickyvicarious

Chat Noir's used to bad luck - it kind of comes with the territory. But detransforming in the middle of a crowd of reporters is a little worse luck than he’s used to having.

And he hasn’t heard a thing from Ladybug since.

(AKA the "everyone finds out all at once" angst fic no one asked for.)

One-shot. Oof, does this one ever hurt. Adrien's painfully in-character, and the way he's trying so very hard to stay positive even as his life is completely falling apart and everyone keeps hurting him...it's so him and it packs a punch.

The Importance of the Black Cat by @chatonne-rousse

Plagg gets down almost two full wedges of cheese before Adrien sits down on the edge of his bed with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, Plagg?” His voice is quiet but doesn’t betray any emotion yet. That’s actually more worrying.

Steeling himself, Plagg swallows the last big bite of cheese and zips from the desk to perch on top of the globe, facing his holder. “What’s up?”

He heaves another sigh before looking up into Plagg’s eyes, emotions still unreadable.

“How important is the black cat?”

*****

Adrien has a lot on his mind - concerns, questions, doubts. And right now, he has only one being to confide in. There is not enough cheese in the world to make Plagg want to handle this situation, but his holder needs him, and he knows two things with certainty: his very important place in the world, and that no one hurts his kitten. Not if he has anything to say about it.

One-shot. You want some season 4 flavour Adrien angst? How about some post-Optigami wallowing? I love the portrayal of Adrien and Plagg's relationship with the mix of light and heavy. Pretty sure I still owe Rosie a sequel to this one because I wanted to see more resolution afterwards and made the mistake of sharing my thoughts on that 🙈 It's just very thought-provoking!!

Working Past It by Taitai83

Chat is deeply hurt by Ladybug's actions, and he needs to process those feelings. He finds that confiding in a friend is helpful in finding clarity.

One-shot. Here, have some more season 4 angst! This one is shamefully overlooked. Go read it and help fix that!! Remember when Gang of Secrets came out and we all wondered how Chat would react when he found out Ladybug told someone her identity? This was an early stab at that, and I found the reactions and thought processes here to be so in character. Plus there's some nice marichat hurt/comfort, though purely platonic.

Timetagger 3 by rosebud1000

Years after Hawkmoth's defeat, Marinette and Adrien encounter Timetagger for the third time. And this battle hits closer to home than any other.

One-shot. Here we have some more of the fallout from Gabriel being a shitty parent, only we have an adult Adrien who is a father himself struggling to reconcile how his father acted with his own parental feelings. As a parent, I really felt this one.

Chat Noir's Family by fleurjaune

The thing is-

The thing is Adrien doesn’t actually mean to lie. Not at first anyway, but they have to keep their secret identities secret don’t they?

And his family, well, their tragedy is out there for the world to see and the world did see it.

One-shot. The more Chat lies about his life and his family, the more we learn about Adrien and see how he wishes his life was. And that chasm...really fucking hurts. I wish this sweet boy could have the kinds of relationships and family dynamics he lies about.

Partners by @karkalicious769

"Um." Alya fidgeted nervously as her earrings beeped their countdown. "Ask me a question that only Ladybug would know the answer to."

Chat Noir barred his teeth, and— Were they always that sharp? At least he wasn't growling again. "You are not Ladybug," he snapped.

"Just do it!"

It was all Alya had to go off of and she really needed to pull this partnership together before the akuma got any worse. She wasn't deluded enough to think that she could do this without Chat Noir.

One-shot. SPOILERS FOR HACK-SAN!!! And yet some more season 4 feels because let's be serious, this season is putting our kitty through the ringer. And this fic definitely does it, though by playing with the episode a little. Although we've got a tight Alya POV, Adrien's hurt and suffering is palpable, and made all the worse by how resigned he is. Read this and sufferrrrrr.

[dameronology]

love in the time of p.t.a. meetings {marcus moreno} - 4/5

summary: after a few months of slightly chaotic bliss, you & marcus start to think about the next steps in your relationship. {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing 

this is up a little later than i wanted & i do apologise, i once again stayed up all night and i cannot recount a single thing i’ve done. enjoy!

- jazz

Things between you and Marcus quickly fell into a routine.

You kind of had to when you both had kids; their lives needed structure. Depended on it, in fact. It wasn’t long before both of your lives were entangled in more ways than one, mostly for the sake of Missy and Jack having security around them but also because things between you were so good. Neither of you were trying to rush by any means, but when it worked, it worked. You were both good at communicating with each other - not that many issues really cropped up - and you both understood that your children came first. Things progressed easily and naturally, and he made you feel secure enough that you didn’t have to question whether or not it was too good to be true. 

Five months had quickly passed and you were both comfortable. Marcus Moreno was your boyfriend and it wasn’t a big deal. Okay, it had been at first - especially the first time he planted a kiss on your lips in front of the minivan brigade - but now? It was normal. It felt like he’d always been there, and you took it as a good sign. You got on well with Missy, especially since she’d witnessed your spat with Carol and started to think the world of you, and Jack...well, he was obsessed with Marcus. You couldn’t blame the kid. 

‘Jack! Put the soup down!’ 

It was another one of those mornings. It was a Sunday, so you didn’t have to worry about getting up early for school or work but you’d been at Marcus’ till late the night before. You and Jack ended up spending a lot of time at his; there was a swimming pool and a big garden for Optimus Prime to run around in, so it tired both of your tiny spawns out, which worked in your favour.

 Even when the kid had spent four hours swimming last night, he’d still risen that morning at 6AM like Jesus Christ on the third day. You’d woken to find the kitchen covered in smashed eggs and ham, then your oven had broken and the toilet was blocked again. 

You’d been halfway through reversing the problem when you’d heard Jack shuffling in the kitchen. You were stood in the hallway, still in your pyjamas, with a toilet brush in one hand and the other balled up into a fist. 

‘Jack, the soup is about to-’

You paused mid-sentence, watching as the bowl he was trying to reach for toppled straight off of the counter. You’d only washed his hair ten minutes ago, and you might as well have not fucking bothered because it was now covered in chunky vegetable soup. And the Chewbacca onesie he loved so much? Trying to peel that off him for the next few hours to wash the Heinz out of it was going to be a whole task in itself. You’d only just been to the laundrette the day before, and you’d gotten to the point in life where having a place with its own washing machine was a sign of success. 

‘Mum, there’s soup in my hair.’

‘It’s okay.’ You took a moment to breath. ‘We are not going to cry.’

‘I’m not crying.’

‘Wasn’t talking to you, buddy.’ You rubbed your temples for a moment. ‘C’mon, let’s go hop in the bath.’

So much of parenting was just...stopping to breath. Stopping to take a moment to remind yourself that although your love for your child was unwavering and unconditional, you sometimes felt like screaming. All you’d done for the last five hours was go in circles, cleaning and lecturing and cleaning some more. It made you wish you were at work that day, because at least then you could have conversations with people that weren’t about what cheese they wanted for lunch or what cartoon they wanted to watch. 

‘I just had a bath.’ Jack muttered. 

‘Yeah well, you need another one.’ You took another deep breath. ‘I’ll be there in a minute-’

‘- I don’t want a bath!’

‘And I don’t want a kid that’s covered in soup!’ You shot back. ‘C’mon, buddy. Just do as I say, please?’

Your conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. You frowned for a moment - you weren’t expecting anyone. There was no post on Sundays and you hadn’t seen your landlord since the day you’d moved in. Your nosey neighbour knocked sometimes, usually asking about the noise (he didn’t have kids, clearly) and you were this close to telling him to mind his own fucking business. 

‘I swear to god, if that’s David again, I am going to shove this can of soup up his - Marcus!’ You almost did a double take when you saw your boyfriend stood at the door - he really chose his times, didn’t he? You hadn’t even had time to put the fucking toilet brush down. ‘Hey.’ 

‘Hey, baby.’ He greeted you slowly, eyes slowly taking in your appearance (and not in a sexy way). ‘Were you not expecting me?’

‘Shit, did we have plans?’ Your eyes widened. 

‘No, but Jack called. He said you’d asked him to ask me to come over, but I realise half way through that sentence that starting with Jack called probably means you had no idea.’ He offered you a goofy smile. ‘He said that the sofa had exploded and that you needed help.’

There was a lot to unpack there. When had Jack done that? More to the point, when had he learnt to use the phone? How had he worked out your phone password? The kid couldn’t do up his own velcro and now he was a Russian hacker, apparently. 

‘Oh my god.’ You groaned. ‘I am so sorry. Things have been batshit here this morning and I’m sure he had my best interests in his weird little heart, but he made you come all this way-’

‘- Marcus!’ Speaking of the devil.

Jack pushed past you, wrapping his arms around Marcus’ waist. He leant down to pick him up, lifting him off the ground - albeit at a distance, due to Soupgate. 

‘Hey, buddy.’ He greeted him. ‘You been causing trouble again?’

‘Not on purpose.’ Jack replied. ‘Mum says I need another bath.’

‘I think she’s right.’ Marcus said. ‘Why don’t you go pick out some clothes and come back in a minute, yeah?’

‘Okay!’ Seemingly impressed by the newfound trust in him to choose an outfit, Jack wriggled himself back down to the floor, trotting towards his bedroom. Seriously, how did Marcus do that? Perhaps his ability to have authority over your archaic child was another hidden power of his. 

‘You look like you need a break, baby.’ He reached out, gently running a hand down your arm.

‘I’m fine, he’s just been a lot today.’ You sighed.

‘You have soup on your shirt and fluff in your hair.’

‘Couch stuffing.’

‘Huh?’

‘It’s couch stuffing. Except that was Optimus Prime and not Jack, which makes a nice change.’ You muttered.

‘Look, Missy is at her abuela’s today and she’s been begging for ages to see Jack again.’ He said. ‘What d’you say I drive him over there, you clean up and we hang out? Just us, no kids, no dogs, no stress.’

‘That sounds like a fucking dream.’ You couldn’t help but smile. ‘But Optimus has consumed half the couch and I gotta keep an eye on him-’

‘-we can bring him with us!’ Marcus grinned. ‘He loves the garden.’

‘Are you sure? Because I remember you saying you had work plans today and I don’t want you to cancel them on account for the fact I can’t control my own kid. Or life.’

‘You two come first.’ He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Three, including Optimus Prime.’

--

In the time it took Marcus to drive Jack to his mum’s and get back to yours, you were able to clean up. The apartment was still a state, but it hadn’t been properly tidy in...how many days had it been since Jack was born? Because it hadn’t been clean in exactly that many days. You felt a little bad dumping him on Anita when he was still covered in soup, but if anyone was able to wrestle him into the bath and some clean clothes, it was her. You’d met her a few times and she was absolutely lovely, but you had no doubt she could be terrifying when need be. She was the sort of woman you aspired to be.

By midday, you were driving out the city. There was music playing quietly over the radio and you were watching the houses go by; even though it was cold out, you had the heater on and you were bundled up in a leather jacket, Marcus’ scarf snugly around your neck. It smelt faintly of his aftershave, which had become one of your favourite scents over the last five months. The time had gone so quickly. You’d seen each other practically every day since then, and having the kids meant you’d been fallen into being domestic pretty quickly. The simplicity of it all - him and you and getting to this point so easily - was overwhelming in itself. 

Your first relationship had been so complicated - so finicky and filled with unnecessary arguments. That should have been a sign early on, but then you’d gotten pregnant with Jack and getting married had seemed like the obvious thing to do. His presence meant you wouldn’t have changed anything, not for the entire fucking world, but it made you a little sad to think about how long you’d wasted on what had clearly been the wrong person. Meanwhile, Marcus’ situation had been entirely different; he’d had the right person the first time around and then he’d lost them. You never felt like a replacement to his wife, or even thought about the notion, really. That had been another part of his life. You were a new part and it didn’t mean he was forgetting the past. The two could co-exist without taking away from each other. 

‘You’re deep in thought.’ Marcus observed. He moved one of his hands to rest on your leg, giving it a light squeeze. He did that a lot, usually whenever you were sat beside him at the table or on the sofa. It was just a him thing. 

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You tore your gaze away from the window. ‘My brain always goes a little into overdrive when things are quiet.’

He chuckled. ‘What’s on your mind?’

‘You, actually.’ You tangled your fingers with his, thumb brushing over the back of his hand. ‘I was just thinking about lucky I am and how good things are, and how it almost feels too good to be true.’

‘Better believe it, baby.’ He replied. ‘Because it is true.’

‘I know.’ You peered over at him with a smile. ‘It’s just...my only perceptions of relationships were based on the single one I’ve had. Everything was so complicated and exhausting. This is completely different and it’s so nice. And normal. And I don’t know, that sounds stupid-’

‘- it’s not stupid at all.’ Marcus peered over at you, shaking his head. ‘It’s natural to be a little apprehensive after a bad relationship and if there’s anything I can do to help, you just have to tell me. You know that, right?’

Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was just him, but you knew for certain that he meant that. There was sort of a silent agreement now that you were both in this for the long haul. Your mum had always said that you’ll know when you know but you’d always written that off. Mostly because you hadn’t known the first time round. But, now you did. You did know and though you weren’t going to admit that to Marcus, you never doubted him for a second. 

‘I do.’ You said. ‘But he’s in the past now - and hopefully it’s where he fucking stays.’

‘I have contacts. I can find him and set Miracle Guy on him.’ Marcus’ grin had returned. ‘Just say the word.’

‘You make a tempting offer.’ You smiled back at him. ‘But the past is the past and I’m ready to...slam the lid on that dumpster.’

‘Do you think he’ll ever want to come back into Jack’s life?’

You pondered for a moment. ‘I don’t think so, but if he did, I dunno if I’d let him. I never wanna be the person who stops someone from seeing their kids but what he did was...it was unforgivable.’

‘You don’t have to make that decision until it actually happens.’ Marcus gently said. ‘And I’ll support whatever you choose.’

He pulled into the drive way of his house - his nice, clean, sofa-stuffing-and-soup free house. Optimus Prime leapt out the car as soon as the door was open, practically tearing past the two of you and down towards the yard. There was a moment of silence and then a splash!

‘Guess he found the pool.’ Marcus commented. ‘At least it’s heated, I s’pose.’

Truth be told, he loved having the three of you at his house. It felt like whatever had been missing before was slowly making an appearance as your relationship progressed. The irony was that you brought nothing but chaos and clutter with you, but that was exactly what made it feel like a home. It was small things; the painting that Jack had done for him at after school club was now hung up up on the fridge, and there was a photo of him and Missy on the fireplace with Optimus Prime. Half of the thousands of blankets of pillows that had been at your place had ended up on his sofa, thanks to the countless sleepovers. 

If he could have it his way, Marcus would have you live with here all the time. The energy that you and Jack brought made everything feel complete. He loved the evenings where Missy and Jack would play out in the pool, and you two would sit back inside, complaining about the cold. Then there were the nights where you’d take both the kids back here when he was working late, and he’d come home to find you piled on the couch watching an old movie, with your burnt cooking abandoned on the stove, surrounded by boxes of left over take out. It was the kind of thing that was so simple and so domestic, but it was everything he wanted. 

That was probably the flashpoint moment when Marcus Moreno realised he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He already knew he loved you - he’d worked that out about three months in, when you’d fallen asleep in one of his shirts whilst trying to wait up for him - but he hadn’t said it. He’d hinted at it and made back-handed comments but he’d barely admitted it to himself, let alone to anyone else. He knew what you and Jack had gone through before and it broke his entire fucking heart. You both deserved someone who stand by you and support you, someone who would embrace you both for the craziness and warm energy you brought everywhere with you. More than ever, he was realising he wanted to be that person who gave it you. After all, you’d made his life so much brighter without even trying.

Snapping out of his trance, Marcus looked over at you. You’d already ditched your shoes and dropped onto the sofa, pulling one of the blankets with you. This was exactly what you needed. A quiet house, your favourite person and a cable knit blanket. 

‘Hey, baby?’ 

You looked over at him, smiling at the name. ‘Yeah?’

‘You know I love you, right?’

You blinked in surprise, sitting up. ‘I know.’

‘You do?’

‘You’ve never said it, but I can tell.’ You nodded, before offering a smile. ‘And I love you too.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.’ He slowly approached you, dropping onto the sofa beside you and taking your hands in his. ‘I think I just got so caught up in everything and feeling everything that I forgot.’

‘Why are you apologising?’ You couldn’t help but scoff at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. ‘It’s your actions that say it, Marc. Hearing it is good but you showed it a long time ago.’

‘I know, but really you deserve to hear it everyday.’ He smiled against you, helping you move onto his lap. 

‘You do tell me everyday, with the things you do.’ You reminded him. ‘Like meeting me in the parking lot with coffee, or bribing Jack into going to bed early with video messages from your superheroes, or doing my grocery shopping when you know money is short.’

‘Why wouldn’t I do those things?’ Marcus seemed genuinely confused. ‘It’s you.’

‘I love you.’ You repeated the phrase. 

‘And I love you.’

He pulled you into another kiss - this time it was a little firmer, not unlike your second declaration of love. Marcus did all those things without thinking, simply out of his intense want for you to just be happy. He was the same with Missy, always doing little things to make her life easier just because. It was just part of who he was, and it made him happy to see his loved ones happy. 

With your body pressed against his and your hands tangled in your hair, Marcus realised he didn’t want you to ever leave again. He didn’t want you to have to drive home in the dark at ten because all of your stuff was on the other side of town. You did stay over sometimes, but then you’d have to creep out at 6AM with a sleeping Jack in your arms to get home in time to get ready. He wanted you here all the time. You should have been here all the time. 

‘Move in with me?’ 

He both did and didn’t mean to say it out loud. He did because he wanted you so badly to be a permanent fixture in the house, but he also didn’t because the idea might have been a little absurd. Was it too soon? What if you didn’t want to leave your place? He knew you loved your apartment. It was your home and had been for a long time.

‘What?!’ You suddenly pulled back from the kiss, eyes wide. 

‘I mean...if you want to.’ Marcus slowly said. ‘Hell, Missy and I can move to your place if that’s what you want. It might be tight but she loves the dog and I just want to be with you-’

‘- hey!’ You cut him off, planting your hands on his shoulders. ‘You’re rambling again, but that’s besides the point. I would love to live here.’

‘You would?’

‘I would.’ You smiled. 

It made sense. Aside from the glaringly obvious fact you wanted to, it was also practical. It was closer to the school, closer to your work and it had a fucking swimming pool. Marcus was already clearly financially secure and moving in wouldn’t mean relying on him, but it would have meant that things for Jack were a lot more stable. Missy loved the company of you both, and it meant she would finally have the dog she wanted so bad. 

‘Missy would be okay with it, right?’ You asked.

‘She was the one who put the idea in my head, actually.’ Marcus admitted. ‘I’d thought about it but then she kind of asked in passing why you don’t live here, and I couldn’t give her an answer.’

‘Your kid is smart.’

‘D’you think Jack will-’

‘- I’m going to stop you there.’ You cut him off.

‘Right, I probably don’t need to ask that question.’ He chuckled.

‘Exactly.’ You pressed a kiss to his nose. ‘Don’t forget the dog, either.’

‘How could I? I can literally see him peeing on my lawn right now.’

‘Our lawn.’

--

Exactly three weeks later - and after a hefty amount of paperwork and hours of sorting through Jack’s endless amounts of crap that he insisted on hoarding - moving day came. 

Anita had insisted on having the kids again. They were both excited, but perhaps a little too much. They were probably more likely to get in the way of things if anything. Children, a dog and large boxes? It seemed like a match made in hell. Plus, she had a whole ass training course in her back garden and if that didn’t wear the kid out, then you were definitely going to take him to the Heroics to get tested. The thought alone was enough to tire you out. 

You didn’t have too much stuff to move. You’d been half-moved into the damn place before Marcus had even made the formal proposal, so that made things a lot easier. You were keeping your sofa for Jack’s room, but the rest was going to Goodwill. Most of it had come from there in the first place.

‘I think that’s the last box.’ Marcus announced, exiting the bedroom. ‘I didn’t realise that a five year could own so many variations of storm-trooper toys.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ You replied. ‘There’s the original trilogy ones, sequel trilogy ones, dark troopers, shock troopers, clone troopers - and I realise half way through listing them that you don’t care.’

‘I never said that!’ He placed his hands on your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m excited to learn.’

‘I’m sure Jack is excited to tell you.’ You grinned. 

Then, it faltered slightly with the realisation you were actually leaving this place. You’d never intended for it to be your permanent home, but it had still been the centre of your entire universe for half a decade. Every room told a story; the crayon marks on the bathroom wall, the dents behind the TV from, the crack in the living room mirror. All caused by Jack, naturally. The last five years was contained entirely within these four walls and you got bleary eyed at the idea of it becoming someone else’s. 

‘Hey, don’t cry.’ Marcus gently wiped away a tear from your cheek. 

‘You know, the rent is still paid till the end of the month so we could revisit the idea of you and Missy living here instead.’ You tearfully smiled. 

‘You’re kidding but you know I’ll do it.’ He pressed another kiss to your nose, grip on your arms tightening. 

‘It’s okay.’ You moved so that the kiss landed on your mouth instead, capturing his lips in a brief kiss. ‘I knew we were gonna outgrow this place. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.’

‘I know. Still kinda feels like it all came out of no-where, huh?’ He replied. ‘In the best way.’

‘You’re right. In the best way.’ You firmly nodded. ‘Can you believe I was 23 when I moved into this place? I found it on Craiglist within ten minutes of finding out I was pregnant.’

‘Do you wanna take a minute before we go?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ You shook your head. ‘We should get going.’

The apartment was just that: an apartment. And the house you were going to was just that: a house. But the people you were with? That’s what made it count. It wasn’t about the four walls or the roof over your head, or whether or not it had a big yard and a jacuzzi bath tub (though, that did help). It was about the laughter and warmth inside; the faces in the photos on the wall and the people you came home to after a long day. It was the smell of your burnt cooking and the pizza you’d ordered in place. It was Jack’s toys left in the exact place where someone could trip and it was Missy using all the hot water in the morning so that Marcus’ showers were practically arctic. It was everyday things that reminded you of the people around you; the people that made it home, and how lucky you were to have them.

That was home. And you’d found yours. 

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky​ @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles​ @bitchin-beskar​ @comphersjost

[wizkiddx]

...surprise part 3

{part1} {part 2}

I got there in the end!!!! sorry I felt like this dragged quite a lot but just quite happy to get it done ahah. Any feedback / advice would be greatly appreciated :)

TW: this is pretty heavy angst, miscarriages / thoughts of self harm / death pls don't read if this could strike a cord x 

Summary: Y/n has absolutely not a clue how to tell Tom and that only strains the both incredibly. 

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The drive home was deathly silent. Tom’s Audi seamlessly drove down the near-empty roads on a sleepy Sunday evening. The whole time Y/n sat with one leg curled up by her chest as she absently stared out of the passenger window. Honestly, though, she was not taking anything of the view in, all processing power in her brain was in overdrive. Souly focused on how the fuck she was going to tell Tom what she had done. She knew Tom kept glancing over at her, with the panicked hint to his eyes- no matter how comforting he was trying to appear. His grip on the steering wheel was every tightening, he felt as though right now that was the only control he had. Still with no idea what was going on - but this time his mum knew too. And his mum when she came to get him from the living was not calm either.

Something he always admired about his mum was how cool she was in a crisis. Even if Paddy likened her to the ’rage monster’ at times when she was pissed because he’d left the freezer door open, or something equally as stupid, when it came down to it, when there was a really serious issue… she was composed. Calm and collected. So when she came in and called Tom, taking him away from his brothers, he could tell something was wrong by the look in her eye. She was upset, that was clear to him, but there was something more. It wasn’t straight up panic (not like if Y/n had passed out or something) but it was… it was a quiet urgency.

It meant it was bad.

Without the need to ever consider it, Tom knew this wasn’t anything to do with Y/n being unfaithful. It hadn’t even crossed his mind. And that meant, something must've happened personally to Y/n - which maybe scared him even more. If it was a betrayal of him, that would principally hurt Tom himself - which would kill him, but he would deal with it. It was the fear of the unknown and the complete powerlessness in this situation that had Tom wishing the drive away so he’d finally understand.

The drive felt painstakingly long for Tom… yet far too short for Y/n to come up with a plan.

When the pair finally pulled into the driveway, they both didn’t even exchange glances before heading out the car and slamming the doors shut. The crunch of their shoes on the gravel path to the front door was deafeningly loud as Tom fished the keys out of his pocket - this time with a sense of dread that contrasted so strongly the excitement he’d felt less than 24 hours ago doing the exact same thing.

Tom held the door open for her, as she fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve; eyes still glued to the floor. He flicked on the light to illuminate the hall as she slipped off her shoes. He mirrored her action and then for the first time since his parents' house looked her in the eye. Just that action had him near spilling his guts about how worried he was about her, before Y/n beat him to it.

“I’m…I’m gonna take a shower.”

And it had him floored. How could she just ignore the bloody massive and luminous elephant in the room? He couldn’t even respond, his brain was so confused as to what the fuck was going on. So she just nodded smally and headed straight upstairs. Leaving him in a stupor by the doorway.

Meanwhile, Y/n was just about holding it together until she got behind the locked door of their ensuite. Then it broke. She broke.

She pulled the clothes that drowned her off frantically, scratching and grabbing until the garments ripped off her body and were thrown across the room in haste. In the mirror, the reflection of the person that stood there somewhat had her transfixed. Tilting her head to the side, Y/n took careful steps up toward it - her eyes transfixed on her exposed abdomen. She was hollow. So very empty and it had her hypnotised. How barely weeks ago she was growing a real human inside there - creating something that should’ve gone onto laugh and smile and grow and learn. And love.

Now she was empty.

The poor thing though had been so deprived by their own mother; so unwanted and hated. They had been starved of all love by the person who was supposed to love them the most. The person who was supposed to be half their world for the first few years at least.

It was her fault.

Y/n hated herself, heck she wanted to punish herself for what she’d done. And yet, there was something so pure about her stomach, about where that angel had been. She wanted to punch herself, to kick and hurt, to make her feel pain. Except for this little life force, or the remnants of them - had her respecting it. Instead, she gently rubbed her stomach, which was flat rather than full like it should’ve been, and yet it felt like a relief. At a snail's pace, she trailed the tips of her finger across her belly just drawing (what she thought were) random patterns - however to anyone else they would have noticed the silhouette of a small human.

She took her time int the shower, having the water close to blisteringly hot but not quite there - using it as an attempt to purge her body of the thoughts, of the guilt. Eventually, though she couldn’t drag out the bathroom routine any longer, she had to go and face him. In reality, Y/n was well aware of how unfair this was on Tom - he had been terrified on the way back here, she knew that. But the thought of admitting to him this truly abhorrent thing she’d done, selfishly she didn’t want to tell him tonight. Just one more night sharing a bed with him, one morning of seeing his puffy eyes and bed hair, one last time hearing his gruff morning voice. Before he found out the real her and before he left.

Thankfully, when she finally drew the courage to unlock the door and leave her sanctuary, their bedroom was empty and she took that opportunity. As fast as she possibly could, Y/n changed into an old nightshirt before huddling under the covers. Tom had been so careful with her feelings today, he might just leave her be. Delay the conversation till tomorrow. It was the dream.

And dreams don’t come true.

Tom walked in, she could hear the soft pad of his feet on the cream carpet as she tried to act fast asleep - regulating her breathing and relaxing every muscle she could. When in fact that the whole process was the opposite of relaxing, she was on such high alert, waiting for a sign of him leaving her alone for the evening. Quite expectedly though, it didn’t quite go down that way. She heard him sigh, felt him sit on his side of the bed as her body rippled with the dip on the bed, felt his eyes piercing her.

“Y/n…” the tone of his voice had her wincing internally, he was hurting. “Y/n please… just talk to me?” She was too scared to move. “ I know your awake Y/n we both know who’s the actor here” Y/n knew Tom was trying to lighten the mood, trying to make her feel a bit more comfortable but then he switched back to an underlying hint of desperation. “Please talk to me.” She didn’t have a choice, he wasn't going to let up - Y/n could tell. So she rolled over and opened her eyes facing him.

“I’m tired, Tom. Can we do this tomorrow?” His face completely morphed and she knew she fucked up. He wasn’t upset or worried or scared any more.

“I’m sorry but that is not fair.”

“Please just-“

“NO. ah” He sighed, as if disciplining himself for the instinctive angry tone. “Look- I-I’ve been going at your pace. I’ve been treading on eggshells all day. I didn’t want to push you but I’m bloody terrified! I mean you told my mum! And she’s worried so that means I’m even more stressed and-…. Just please Y/n. You know I’d never judge you I’m just worried because I care.”

And just like that, she didn’t have a choice. She was really hurting the man she loved.

As a result, Y/n pushed herself up into a sitting position, still hugging the duvet around her in a protective blanket as she looked into his glassy eyes. It tore her heart out.

“I’m really sorry” she pursed her lips blowing out an exhale, trying to collect all her thoughts, feelings and emotions together. “I’ve been trying to all day but-.. it’s just I’m finding this really hard to express in words.”

“I don’t mind if it takes all night, just I-I want to understand.” He was just too kind and she didn’t deserve it. So picking at the duvet while pulling her legs closer in protection she nodded.

“Okay, so-so I just take you through it chronologically? And-and then I can go to Y/f/n’s place so.”

“Why would you got to hers?” He asked, his eyebrows drawn tightly together in confusion. He knew you hadn’t been unfaithful - his mum most definitely wouldn’t have reacted in the way she did had Y/n betrayed Tom.

“Just… just listen first.” She didn’t want to answer that question, to speak it into existence. Him kicking her out, in a rage of fury and anger at how evil she could be. She thought he’d just reply and accept it, not feel the need to calm her.

“I could never ever hate you Y/n please, it’s a bit insulting to me that you think I would.”

His words had her a little shocked - she had definitely not expected that reaction. His offence.

“Umm okay just… just don’t promise till you hear.” He gave her a stern look, not enough to make her back down or change her mind from what she thought was inevitable. “So. So it was when you were away. You’d just gone to Atlanta I think and-and I woke up one morning and was sick and it was weird I don’t know… um so I took the day off but I was okay until the next morning and-and I was sick again. It was weird so I took the next day off because you know Elliot I work with? He’s-he's got some broken immune system or something so we really can’t go in if we are ill. But I was fine until the next morning again and-and then it kind of hit me. I hadn’t had a period in ages and-and yeah.”

“Your pregnant?” Tom asked, trying to wrap his head around the current situation and what she was saying.

“Was…” Her voice wavered and she paused a second “ I-I was. I was shocked you know? We…we weren’t ready.” Y/n shifted uncomfortably, pushing herself closer to the headboard. “You said you didn’t want kids now and I mean … we- we are barely adults ourself right? It-it was so stupid but I couldn’t tell you could I?… Phone you up and say by the way I’m pregnant with a kid you don’t want!...” She dared to look at him, only for a second, seeing the way he just stared at her as though transfixed. She couldn’t keep looking at him.

“So I was waiting till you would get back … er next week, well when you were supposed to be back anyway.” She scoffed lightly at that, how the whole entire situation had been completely flipped on its head. “I would have had the scan then. And-and I went and it so stupid because they were a blob but-shit. They were so beautiful.” She hadn’t even noticed, suddenly absorbed in what she was saying but Tom leant over to grab one of her hands because it was trembling so vigorously. It wasn’t that he wanted to comfort her, he needed to. Because really? When it mattered, he hadn’t and that was already eating away at him.

“And I stupidly…. So fucking stupidly… I thought what if? I got excited and in my head… I don’t fucking know I just thought that I-it, it might work. I really - really thought it could work.” She couldn’t feel it but Tom wormed his arm around her shoulder, squeezing her into his side. “But by that point, I’d already filled them with so much hate. I wanted them out for so long and…and then I just- well I got what I thought I wanted.”

For the first time since she started her speech, Y/n wasn’t absorbed in retelling the story. Noticing her position with Toms arms protectively wrapped around her, she dared to look up into his eyes. And they weren’t right. It was wrong. Because here he was still looking at her with these incredibly soft warm brown eyes, his thumb rubbing up and down on the back of her shoulder blade.

“Love, I’m so so sorry.”

She was bemused. What the hell was he doing? Was this just a double bluff, acting all soft before he was about to rip her heart out - even if it was what she deserved, that was exceptionally cruel?

“No Tom your not listening. I-I couldn’t keep your baby alive! I-I wished them away… I wanted them gone!” Now she was plainly hysterical, shouting and yelling at Tom as her hands shook.

It broke Tom’s heart. He knew this was his fault - at least a little. Clearly, she should never have been in a position to have to deal with this herself, that was obvious. And it made him guilty… but what hit harder? She had very clearly implied she was worried about his reaction, he should never have let her worry. Because Tom knew he loved Y/n unconditionally, at this point that should be a given - for all he cared there was nothing, within the limits of reason, she could do that would make him seriously reconsider his opinion of her. Even then, if his opinion were ever forced to change so dramatically... he still knew he wouldn’t be able to stop loving her. Loving isn't an option, it is not a choice. You helplessly surrender yourself to it. And yet she was apparently less sure of this fact.

“I’m so sorry you had to deal with this by yourself.” And he meant it. He truly meant it. However, Y/n was not having it at all - in her state, in her frame of mind, this was him just torturing her; acting it out only to break her heart. His words and her position wrapped protectively in his arms dawned on her. It had her leaping up from the bed, tears streaming down her face as she gestured wildly.

“Tom that’s not fair! Don’t you get it? I KILLED YOUR BABY! They were alive and then I wasn’t enough for them! IT’S MY FAULT!” To put it simply, she looked insane. Screaming, with tears streaming down her face, arms flailing about as she yelled at Tom, who was still sitting on the bed.

He’d never seen her like this- with so much anger. What was even more disturbing was the fact that it was targeted so inwardly at herself.

“This isn’t your-“

“BE ANGRY TOM. For fuck sake… I-“ She choked out a sob “I murdered your kid! RAGE AT ME SHOUT AT ME it’s-it’s what I deserve.” It was insane but the look in her eye was one that seemed to Tom as though she needed him to hate her. As if in some fucked up narrative that was how the story should end.

He was not having one bit of it, tearing his eyes away from her maniacally shaking frail frame and instead to the corner of the ceiling. There was no precedent, no guidebook on how to deal with this, no past experiences to rely on. Unlike if Y/n had had a shit day, Tom knew then to subtly keep her within reach, to silently be there so she could literally and figuratively lean on him when she was ready; unlike when she was angry at ignorant politicians, he knew not to argue but prompt her to explain more, give a more reasoned argument so anger became thought through intellect; unlike when her grandma had died, when she just needed his contact, she needed his thumb rubbing against her hip, needed to sleep listening to the rhythmical thumping of his heart. None of these were applicable - his touch seemed to make her worse; his words seemed to anger her more; his mere presence didn’t seem to be doing an awful lot of good.

And yet, he couldn’t leave her even if it seemed to be the most logical option. Because she was wild, not herself and not logical and he, for the first time, was terrified of the danger she could be to herself.

Y/n stared at him, wide-eyed, waiting for him to react. She saw his Adam's apple bob up and down - readying his voice to scream at her. She saw his brown eyes collect a sheen of tears of rage - ready to bore holes into her skull as he degraded her to what she was worth. Which was very little. Then, as if in slow motion, his sharp jawline tilted back level and his eyes met her. He was frozen as if a statue, ready to rage at her.

“I love you both. So much and equally.”

Tom was pretty sure he could imagine Y/n’s runaway train in her head slam on the breaks. Her eyebrow twitched a little, as she stood completely still trying to analyse his words. Because to her, it didn’t make sense. So he took this moment of (at least surface level) calm to smoothly and slowly stand up, actions much like mirroring how someone approaches a spooked cat on the streets. Movements slow and preplanned, trying not to set off the fight or flight response on the women in front of him.

“That little baby you made… I didn’t know he ever existed till minutes ago but…but I know for a fact I love them.” He was trying to both figure out and decode his own emotions while explaining them in a way Y/n would accept and understand.

“I love them because… they are made by the love of my life. And that’s incredible and indescribable and just… just part of you, an extension of everything you and me together are… They would never have been perfect right?” Tom softly asked, though realistically knowing he wouldn’t get a response from a still motionless Y/n - besides a single tear, which appeared to have a mind of its own, escaping over her bottom lash lid. Tom watched it roll down her cheek as he composed his next words. “No they wouldn’t, no ones perfect… neither me nor you. But they would’ve been safe and have been loved. They were loved, you-you loved them right, even if you didn’t think you did or when you were terrified?” This time Y/n nodded minutely and Tom mirrored this, taking a small step a little closer to her. “And I did love them while they were in your stomach because they were part of you and I always always love you…. So they were so full of love okay? There's no rhyme or reason to why what happened happened but it’s… it’s definitely not because they were starved of love okay?” Y/n still didn’t have appeared to have released a single breath since Tom stood up, so he made a calculated and risked assessed movement to reach his hand out to touch her upper arm. In reaction, she sucked in a sharp shaky breath and then expelled it just as quickly - just like Tom knew she would. He physically felt a pull in his chest seeing the torment in her glassy eyes, now barely a rulers length from her.

“This, it’s an awful… awful situation. It’s sad and heartbreaking but I really need you to know that it changes nothing about how I feel about you. I need you to really understand how much I love-and always will-love you, and how I love them too.” Another tear escaped the same eye and Tom reached up with his other hand so his thumb could brush it away before the glassy orb met her pronounced jawline. To be honest he was quite grateful for the moment as he felt his voice getting a bit sticky in the back of his throat. She still wasn’t ready to speak yet and he was okay with that.

“We’ll never forget them and we will always love them, but I want to do that with you, as we get older together. They tie us closer and I refuse to disrespect them and force ourselves apart….a-assuming you don’t want to either?” Still cupping her cheek with his left hand Tom felt as well as saw her nod, this time more emphatically, her eyes darting between focusing on his left and then right eye - as though she was just checking they were saying the same things as his mouth.

“I’m sorry I-“ Finally feeling the connection between her brain and voice box, Y/n stated to jiltedly speak but was interrupted as Tom tentatively feathered his lips on hers. “You can be sorry for scaring the crap out of me today, you can be sorry for shouting and you can be sorry for not telling me at all… I don’t think you should, but if you’re staying sorry that’s all you can be sorry for.” He was barely speaking, more like just moving his lips against hers, yet they knew and understood each other completely Y/n got everything. So she sighed and repeated.

“I am sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for you not having the faith to know I’d be happy, that was my fault. I’m sorry for not being here and not noticing when you were struggling on the phone. I’m sorry I crept up on you last night. But I don’t think there’s anything else for either of us to apologise for.”

“Okay” Y/n then pressed her lips firmly and almost desperately against his, feeling his warmth wrap around her, as he literally wrapped his arm around her waist, from where it had been on her upper arm. And really she was very incredibly desperate since it was very very incredibly clear now with him pressed against her that he might’ve been all she needed this whole time. Tom went with it for a couple of moments, but then broke them both apart - it sounds odd but he sort of felt like he was taking advantage of her.

“Darling you’re grieving. We can tackle this together …. But your grieving so we need to look after you first. And, and we’ll remember them and face this. But we gotta look out for each other too and…”

“I’m ill aren’t I?” He was oh-so relieved that she could see it too.

“I’m not a doctor but I think so… think we need to get you eating properly.”Y/n nodded and Tom kissed her forehead, pulling her completely against his chest - only exacerbating and exaggerating his awareness of how boney she felt. It hadn’t gone unnoticed how she’d spent the whole of Sam’s dinner pushing the meat round on her fork - rearranging it numerous times- whilst picking at a few carrots. “We can do whatever you feel will help you this evening but you need to tell me what you want to eat.”

*

You agreed but you still felt incredibly nauseous, so managed to put off the whole snacking thing in lieu of cuddling up on the sofa with Tom. You were still incredibly confused, feeling slightly detached from reality if you were completely honest. And you knew Tom was a good actor, his career kind of speaks for himself yet, all the same, the sheer truth in his eyes, voice, heart. It had you feeling safe. He no longer felt a flight risk and although you still couldn’t understand why he was forgiving you so easily, you believed he was. In the softest voice, he kept just saying ‘your grieving’ when you tried to challenge his logic- admittedly proving difficult in your scattered and hazy mind.

So you found yourself lying almost completely on top of his right side, your head tucked underneath his chin, a fluffy blanket weighing down on your back to keep you nice and toasty. Silently Tom had trailed his fingertips tentatively, under the hem of your t-shirt, round over the top of your hip to his stomach. Initially, it had felt like the worst and most alien feeling in the world- but he told you to relax and you listened; he told you to take deep breaths and you listened; he told you he loved you and you listened.

It must’ve been incredibly boring for him, I mean the TV wasn’t on neither was the radio and you knew his phone was in a pocket you were currently lying on. He didn’t complain though, he just let you lie there. Just sort of being with him.

*

At some point Tom realised she’d drifted off, after a long time fighting exhaustion, as though she were worried about what Tom would do once she finally gave in to sleep. It wasn’t surprising though, considering her energy intake from food for today was limited to a couple of roasted carrot slices, Tom knew her falling asleep on his chest was inevitable. The time it took had also given him enough time to fully digest and process the whole day as well as for deciding what he needed to do. So once she appeared fully out of Tom dared to worm his hand between their bodies and, with a few muted grunts of effort, phish his phone out his back pocket.

‘Hi, I know this asking a lot but would you mind getting Sam to make that pasta bake Y/n likes and dropping it round? Just she’s asleep but I don’t want to leave her alone but could do with getting something in her?’

‘Sams already on it and it doesn’t take long. I’ll be at yours in about an hour, shall I just let myself in?’

Tom was so grateful for his family, and for how they’d taken Y/n in to. Although she’d never admit it, her tougher than average upbringing always had her feeling a bit isolated- she never had ‘her’ people. The people who completely accepted her for who she was and never judged her. But as soon as he’d introduced her to them, it was as if she'd always been there. He endlessly appreciated the talks Nikki and you had, the way his Dad would come over when she was home alone to help with the simple stuff like knowing what lightbulb to buy for the lamp that had blinked out.

She had a place in his family.

Quite impressively, Sam had managed to bake the dish and then Nikki had managed to drive round before barely three-quarters of an hour had passed. Y/n was still completely out, so when he heard his mum unlock the door with her spare key, he felt able to wiggle out from under her without disturbing at all. He met Nikki in the kitchen, leaning against the door frame as he watched his mother fly about the kitchen - preheating the oven on a low temp to keep it warm while pulling plates and cutlery out the drawers so it was easier for Y/n and Tom when you woke up.

“Thanks for all this” Tom announced his presence with a soft sigh as he padded further into the kitchen. Nikki instinctively threw her arms round her eldest’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly.

“You guys okay?” Tom replied with a rather uncertain hum, before recounting the evening to his mum in a low voice - as though Y/n could be disturbed from the other side of the house. Nikki was in two frame of minds at this point, clearly heartbroken for the pair; but also incredibly proud of her son because it appeared he’d reacted and said exactly the right things.

“And you?… it must’ve been a shock?” To be quite honest, Tom hadn't thought about his own emotions yet, he’d put himself on the back foot for the time being.

“I mean it’s just a bit surreal… I don’t know I didn’t really have anything to do with it but - I just know that it's made me so certain that one day we will... you know?” Nikki hugged her son again with a little nod.

“Well I won’t outstay my welcome but I do want you to give this to Y/n too.”’ With those words, she fished a square box out of her handbag - it was about the size of two matchboxes and Tom raised his brows in curiosity. “She’ll understand when she sees it.”

And with a brisk parting gesture, Nikki left, Tom tucking the box into his side pocket before getting the pasta ready.

////////

Waking you with a gentle rub on your upper arm, you mewled a groan and pushed your head hard into the sofa below you in an attempt to alleviate the tension that instantly rippled through your skull. With hazy eyes, you blinked heavily, slowly focusing on the pale yet soft skin of the boy crouched opposite you.

“Hey darling, nice nap?” Nodding gradually, you still tried to completely recollect and piece together everything that had happened today “… you need some grub before we head upstairs yeh?” Again you nodded in compliance because at this point, even having been asleep for the last however long, you really didn’t have the energy for any conflict or disagreement. With a little prompt and poke from Tom, you reluctantly sat up, grasping the plate he offered to you while still rubbing one of your eyes. Busying himself with running back to the kitchen and grabbing his own plate and drink, you had time to look at the food and notice what was served to you. Tom plopped himself next to you and turned his head with a small smile, meeting a bemused and slightly suspicious look from you.

“You didn’t cook this…?” Really it wasn’t a question. You knew for a fact Tom was not and would never be a good chef. No judgement though, since neither were you, meaning the pair of you heavily relied on the ingenious invention of uber eats most evenings. Tom chuckled at your perceptiveness and admitted defeat without even trying to feign it.

“Nah mum dropped it round. Though I think Sam cooked it so a joint effort.”

“-didnt have to-“ You hated feeling like a burden. You hated people worrying because you just felt bad. Not worth the attention and effort. And Tom hated you feeling like that - naturally then, he had the need to shut you down instantly.

“No, you’re right. But they did.”

The air was filled with the quiet clinks of ceramic against the silver or the cutlery as you forced mouthful after mouthful down your throat. He was trying to be subtle, and yet you could feel Tom’s concerned glance checking you were eating. Truthully, you really didn’t feel like eating at all (even if it was Sam’s gorgeous tomato and sausage pasta bake - an odd combination but it worked). However, what more crucial in that moment was not disappointing your incredibly sweet boyfriend.

After having consumed as much as you physically could - which Tom deemed suitable with a small nod- he took your plates away and came back to sit beside you. More and more silence.

“Are-are we okay?” Whispering quietly you felt Tom’s body seize up into a rigid state, his face whipping round to look at you. He chose to reply with actions first reaching up so that his hands cupped your cheeks, he turned your head and then slowly leaned into to press his lips softly against yours. Once retracted, he pressed his forehead onto yours.

“Of course. I bloody love you and we’re going to get through this together.” His eyes were almost intimidating, with the seriousness he placed in his gaze - just to make sure you knew he meant it.

What you had done to deserve this boy you’d never know. But you were so incredibly grateful for him.

It gave you the confidence to take the first move this time, pressing your lips against his, holding for a moment before arching away - a small yet real smile on your face.

“Oh… nearly forgot” He muttered, leaning forward and grabbing a black leather box that you’d failed to notice had been placed on the coffee table. For the second time this evening, you were caught off guard and bemused as to how he’d sourced this item within the time frame. “It’s from mum… she wouldn’t tell me what it is but said you’d understand.”

His words had you biting your lip, in a weird way eager to see, purely because you knew Nikki understood you. And understood what you were going through. With one last look to Tom, you reached out and grabbed the box, thumb running over the sleek leather exterior. Once your thumb reached the bottom you flicked the lid up, unveiling a simple silver chained bracelet. It had five dainty silver charms hanging off it, they looked a bit like leaves but were kind of too small to tell. Moreover, it looked a little worn and preloved but it didn’t stop your eyes from watering when you saw at the bottom another charm, not yet attached that looked newer and pristine.

5 charms already attached and 1 new one.

“Oh” Tom muttered, also clearly very much intrigued, hovering off you left shoulder to see properly. ”That’s mums bracelet. She never really takes it off… that’s nice I guess?” He was obviously confused and it had you chuckling wetly, at how oblivious he could be. You did love your dear idiot.

5 charms for her 5 pregnancies… and now one for yours. One to wear forever, to love, to keep close to your heart.

They were tears of happiness, you were certain of, however, Tom was not at all sure why your flood gates opened again and was worried.

“You-you don’t have to take- I mean if you don’t like it don’t worry-“

“I love it” You breathed, looking up at him with glassy eyes before hastily picking up the extra charm and with shaky fingers clasping it onto the chain next to it. Tom perked up, if still bemused, wrapping his arm around your shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t know how you convinced her to take it off, I’ve been trying to buy her a new bracelet for years but she’s always stuck with this old thing.”

“Because it’s beautiful!” You yelped in argument, making him laugh at how suddenly you’d switched into a happy and overexcited mood. Though don’t get me wrong, he was loving it.

“You Holland women I will never understand.” He whispered into your ear whilst you looked back at the chain, fixing it round your wrist. His comment made you freeze up, as you felt his grip tightening on your waist as he realised exactly what he might have just let slip out. “No I er- I don’t mean… but-but one day maybe if-if you wanted.”

“I love you” You sighed, kissing him once again to save him the embarrassment of watching his cheeks flush and ears pink up.

“I’m serious though… one day because… because you’re my family and when it happens our family will grow too.”

He was right. And you would, one day,

But you would never forget the two little lives remembered on this bracelet.

tagging people that might be interested (sorry if u don't care ahah): @wayfaring----stranger @vanillanestor @333dolans @thevelvetseries @whitewolf51 

[whatiwillsay]

submission: we need to talk about ttb (spade-riddles)

Hey Cam. Seeing that ask defending TTB’s doxxing has sort of pushed me to finally share some of my story on Tumblr, I guess. I haven’t had the opportunity to talk about this to anyone fully, so this will probably be long, but I hope you don’t mind me venting.

I’m one of the people that got emailed by TTB. I don’t feel comfortable posting this off anon, but I was in a Discord server with you and @bisluthq and some other people back in Dec/Jan. I don’t know if you remember me, but my name on there was one word and began with an L and ended with an S.

I want to share the full story, but I also don’t feel comfortable with sharing certain details publicly because I’m still very wary of getting outed further by her if she sees this, so I’m gonna be vague about some things

Request to her followers — If you see this, please don’t send this to her. Like I’m genuinely asking you not to because I don’t trust her not to cross any more lines. My dad is a major homophobe with serious anger issues who has literally been arrested for violence before, and she doesn’t really think carefully or maybe even care about how any actions she takes could lead to people being harmed, so I’m not eager to see how she might react.

Anyway, I first got an email back in December, and I was really freaked out by it at first. I spoke to one of my mutuals about it, and although we both agreed it was super weird and invasive and creepy, we ended up trying to see the funny side of it. So, I kinda just brushed it off and moved on. I was mainly just really confused about why I had been targeted because at the time, I thought it was only me who’d gotten an email like that. I didn’t understand why she’d specifically targeted me instead of other people who she clearly disliked a lot more.

About a week later, I saw someone on Tumblr mentioning a strange email, and I realised other people must have gotten them too. I spoke to Nat about what happened to me and ended up in the Discord

At the time, I felt like I’d gotten off really easy comparatively to others because I initially didn’t realise that she’d contacted anyone else. And so I tried to act chill about it because I didn’t want to make things about me, but honestly, I was extremely anxious. I felt on edge for over a week. I would keep checking her blog again and again because I was super worried that she would post our personal details publicly. I scrolled through my entire blog from start to finish and deleted a lot of posts that were either personal or that I just didn’t want anyone I knew in real life to read.

This part I have to be vague about because it would basically give away who I am, but it was only a while later when I thought I was in the clear that someone I knew in real life texted me and mentioned seeing a weird email about me. The email had been sent a while back, and they’d been shown it by the original recipient/s. Multiple people had been shown it, but luckily (kinda), only two of those people were actually people I saw on a regular basis

I’m mostly closeted, but I’m kind of technically out to a few of my immediate family members. But it’s very much a DADT situation because they’re not accepting, and they like to just pretend I’m straight. And so I basically have to act closeted even when I’m around them, and I can’t even ALLUDE to being gay.

But with my dad, it’s different. He’s very homophobic. I’m only gonna mention this next part so that people understand what kind of dangerous situation that TTB could have put me in. (And the other people that she doxxed too because she didn’t know how safe their individual situations were). It’s all really personal, and I wouldn’t ordinarily feel comfortable sharing any of this at all, even anonymously, but I think it needs to be said because her actions were extremely fucking irresponsible.

Right, so when I first “came out” to my dad, it was actually an accident, and he reacted… extremely badly. This was back in like… 2018 or 2019, I can’t remember the exact year

(TW // physical abuse, homophobia)

He was extremely angry, literally shaking. He yelled at me, he described in graphic detail how he was going to “break every bone in my body”, “strangle the life out of me”, “drown me”, etc. He kept telling me that I’m disgusting and going to Hell, you get the idea. He was having a lot of fun with making strangling motions and stabbing motions with his hands, and he kept slamming his hand onto the table. That went on for about 15 minutes, and then he stood up and threw a chair from the dining table at me. That was fun lol. And he punched me in the head pretty hard which kinda knocked me back. I felt dizzy, I had to sit down on the floor. At that point, my mum who had been crying and asking him to stop physically intervened, and he ended up storming out of the house instead. My mum’s a genuinely good person btw. She’s a little homophobic, but she cares about me a lot, and I’m very grateful for her. She hates him too, but she’s kinda stuck with him… It wasn’t her fault

He literally hates gay people. He complains about us on the regular. One time, he threw the remote at the TV and cracked the screen just because there was a gay male couple kissing onscreen. Another time, he threw a rock at a gay man on the street. There was also a time where he forced a few of my siblings (who didn’t want to do it) to throw peeled oranges out of the window at people celebrating pride while he drove past them and yelled insults at them. He found that really funny. Anyway, I’m sure you guys get the idea of what kind of person he is

He hasn’t laid a hand on anybody in several months though, so I do think he’s trying to be better at least. Like he’s still verbally abusive and controlling and awful, but I appreciate that he’s at least making an effort to calm down with the hitting and kicking and stuff

Anyway, with my dad, it’s less DADT and more that I think he’s got it in his head that he managed to scare me into “seeing the error of my ways” and that I’ve “stopped choosing to be gay” and that I’m now straight. So, if it had been HIM who had gotten that email, it would’ve been like… extremely bad. Like I’m getting anxious just thinking about it. And this is why I’m so angry at TTB. It was extremely, extremely irresponsible of her to not consider these kinds of possibilities before she sent out her stupid emails. She’s supposed to be an ally, but it didn’t even cross her mind that these emails would lead to people being outed and possibly even harmed?? It’s not okay at all. I’m just very grateful that she didn’t send one to him because I don’t even know what kind of situation I would be in right now.

Anyway, enough about my fucking awful dad… I feel uncomfortable that I even typed all of that out, but I wanted people to understand how dangerous her actions could have been. Like I mean, my dad’s got PTSD and extreme anger issues from his teenage years, so I do try not to judge him TOO harshly, but there’s no excuse for being a huge bigot or occasionally violent. The idea of him being the one who got that email is still so scary to me. Like my heart is racing just thinking about it

One of the people that DID read the email was the male friend I mentioned earlier though. He was shown it by someone else for a particular reason, and he was a very important person to me. Like he was a good guy, we were close, he helped me out with certain personal issues I have and is one of only two people that I know in real life that I felt comfortable confiding in about them. We’d always meet up once a week, sometimes twice, and we’d just talk about stuff and make an effort to help each other out with things. Like he was very important to me.

It turns out that he’d looked through my blog before I’d got around to scrubbing it, and he asked me if I was gay in person the next time we met up. I couldn’t lie because like… he’d have known I was lying right to his face. So, I told him I was, and you should have seen his face. It made me feel so awful about myself. He looked really stunned and shocked and kinda uncomfortable. Like it got so awkward, and I started rambling and making things worse. He was avoiding eye contact, and my voice was shaking.

I ended up making up an excuse to leave about 5 mins later and had an actual anxiety attack. Again, this is embarrassing and something I’d never usually talk about online, but I just want to get it all off my chest so that I can move past it all.

So, I was like on the verge of tears (I don’t cry easily), I couldn’t breathe properly, I was pacing around the building, and I just wanted to escape, so I headed straight for the doors. There was a queue of about 100 people lined up and waiting to leave, and I couldn’t think straight or breathe and just needed to be outside, so I tried to go out through the other exit which is for staff only. The security guard stopped me and basically publicly humiliated me in front of all of those people. He loudly shamed me and said I “didn’t have any decency” for attempted to jump the queue, lectured me in this really condescending tone, and then sent me right to the back of that huge line. Meanwhile, I was literally in the midst of a bad anxiety attack.

And then I eventually got outside and had to call my mum to come and pick me up instead of just making my own way home like I usually do. She’s amazing though tbh because she actually came to get me and didn’t even question why. I had to skip all of my plans for the rest of the day and instead just hid upstairs in my bedroom with the lights off until the next day. I refused to tell any of my family members what had happened even though they kept asking. I just felt so, so awful, and my anxiety was through the roof

To be honest, before that happened, my mindset was like: “I mean, if I get outed, it obviously wouldn’t be good, but I think I’d be able to deal with it fine”. But then, when it actually happened, and I saw the way my close friend reacted, I had like a whole emotional breakdown lol. It’s like, you think you’d be fairly chill in a situation, but when it actually happens, your reaction can be really unpredictable. I was so embarrassed by everything about that entire incident. I didn’t even want to show my face the next day.

It’s been almost two months since that happened, and in that entire time, my friend has contacted me once. We literally used to meet up once or twice a week (and during lockdown, we’d do video calls or phone calls instead), but since then, we’ve barely even spoken. Things are just so awkward now. I know this sounds stupid, but I feel like TTB’s taken one of my best friends away from me. I don’t think he’s a homophobe or anything, he has openly gay friends and is fairly accepting, but I think it’s just the way that he found out that has just made things so weird between us now. I feel like if I’d had the chance to come out to him myself in my own way, he wouldn’t have reacted like that. But I’m gonna text him next week and see if we can maybe try to fix our friendship, but I doubt it at this point

The other people who were shown the email, I mostly just avoid. I don’t really care about them knowing that much because I wasn’t close to them, but it’s just really embarrassing knowing that they probably scrolled through my Tumblr blog before I scrubbed it

And about Tumblr… This used to be the only place that I could fully be myself. It was like a “safe space” for me which feels ironic now. But I haven’t been active on my blog since December. I still lurk occasionally, but I just don’t feel comfortable here anymore. I did consider deleting my current blog and starting afresh with a new one, but I don’t think it’d make much of a difference… Like she’s kind of ruined Tumblr for me. I do still enjoy reading people’s blogs every now and then, but I don’t feel relaxed here anymore, I just feel on edge.

It’s mainly the fact that SHE’S still here. She still has a platform, she still has a bunch of followers. It’s been so hard seeing her face next to no consequences whatsoever for the horrible things that she’s done to so many different people. And it upsets me that she hasn’t even acknowledged that what she did was wrong. Plus, it makes me feel even worse that the Hard Kay blogs and some other people are still supporting her and pretending that this whole thing just didn’t happen. Like do they just not care? Or is it that she’s twisted things and made them believe that the situation was different to what it actually was?

And tbh, this whole situation has even set me back in my own sort of personal self-acceptance journey. I had such bad internalised homophobia when I was younger, and it took me so many years to get to a place where I had mostly accepted myself. But now I just feel ashamed again, and I’ve gone back to my old habit of trying to force myself to be attracted to men. Like I downloaded Tinder the other day and set my preference to men and was swiping through profiles. It’s kinda silly actually. I did snap out of it and delete the app the next day though. But I don’t know, I feel like this whole thing has just kinda fucked with me a bit. I am trying to work this stuff out and get back to normal though. I think I’ll be good again in maybe a month or so, hopefully.

And… yeah. I just really resent her, and this situation upsets me. Because the reason she did this was so petty and ridiculous, and I guess she didn’t even realise how much it would impact people? Like I do know that my situation wasn’t as bad as some of the other people’s situations, and I feel really bad for them, and I hope they’re all doing okay. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for them. But it still has impacted me a lot more than I actually thought it would. I thought I’d get over it within a couple of weeks. But it’s been like two months, and I’m still not completely over it

I know it might not sound like a huge thing, but being outed really does affect you, even if it’s only to a few people. Because to me, I feel like I’ve had my sense of like, security and comfort taken away, and it’s kinda distressing. Sorry if I sound dramatic with any of this, I just really needed to say all of this stuff to other people besides myself lol

Like her actions have literally led to me being outed to a few people. A close friendship that I had has basically been ruined. I don’t feel comfortable or secure on Tumblr anymore, even though it used to be an important outlet for me. I’ve had a resurgence of anxiety about my sexuality. Etc.

And again, my dad is extremely homophobic and literally made death threats to me and physically attacked me back when I accidentally came out to him in 2018 or 2019. And if he had gotten that email, I don’t even know what would have happened. I don’t think he would have like… SERIOUSLY physically harmed me, but there would definitely have been a repeat of the first incident. More throwing chairs at me and hitting and screaming and death threats. I don’t really want to think about it.

It just bothers me that she didn’t even consider that? Like did it not even cross her mind? And my dad is bad, but I’m sure there are people in the fandom who have even worse parents, and she could have got one of those people instead. It’s just so… I don’t know, it’s just so frustrating to me.

Anyway, I just hate her for what she did… Like maybe I shouldn’t, but I really do resent her so much, and I don’t think I could forgive her even if she apologised to us all (which I don’t think she even would because she doesn’t seem to have any decency whatsoever). The least she could do is at least express some kind of remorse, but she just genuinely doesn’t care, and that’s super messed up. All over some stupid Tumblr blog that is much less important than she thinks it is.

But anyway… I apologise for the whole rant, and if anybody read all the way down to here, I appreciate it. I do actually feel a bit better now that I’ve got this all typed out. And I’m sorry for the oversharing lol, I usually don’t do this, but I just felt like I really needed to tell people and get it off my chest so that I can try to get over it — L

submisssion⬆️⬆️⬆️

ok L i am trying to remain calm here because this isn’t about me.  but i am very emotional right now.  i am so so so infinitely sorry that you had to go through this harrowing and terrifying experience.  ttb (now blogging under spade-riddles) is absolutely disgusting, lower than dirt, that she would put your life, safety, and well-being at risk over a fucking kaylor blog.

please please please im me or get in touch somehow because i want to offer you support.  have you been financially impacted by this?  we can raise money.  do you need therapy?  we can help you find the support you need.  this community is unequivocally here for you.  whatever you need, if it’s in my power to help you get it, i will.  you have my solemn promise on that.

i am so deeply and desperately sorry that you have gone through this.  i was shaking while reading your story.

i am in touch with other people and we are in discussion about the best way to let tumblr know what happened.  this will be a safe space for you (and all of us) again if it’s the last thing i do.  this community is 100% here for you in any way we can help, sending you all the support and love we have.

[wedreamedlove]

Xu Mo vs. Mo Yi [Character Study]

I can never get over the aesthetic of these two pictures placed side by side LOL. But, anyway, the point of this post is to nip any undue comparisons in the bud and claims of copying organize my thoughts and compare these two characters to highlight their similarities, differences, and further explore each character through these contrasts.

Q) If you like Xu Mo, would you like Mo Yi?

Honestly, I think this depends on what you like most about Xu Mo. I already knew beforehand that I gravitate towards characters who think 5 steps ahead, are predominantly logical, and scholars/gentlemen, so it’s not surprising I bias both Xu Mo and Mo Yi.

However, as I got to know Mo Yi further (Themis is around 6 months old now), I find that he’s distinctively different from Xu Mo on three crucial points that’ll determine whether people from either camp will like the other character.

1) Stance on Others

In a post for Xu Mo, “Into Your World”, I argued that Xu Mo is an alienated genius who had troubles getting along with others, until he mastered the social game as an adult. However, you can still see glimpses of this as he tries to understand MC’s world and shares his own.

To be fair, Mo Yi’s past is still under wraps but I feel confident in saying that, while he was probably highly intelligent compared to his peers [SR Sculpted Heart], his isolation doesn’t seem to come from his innate nature but rather his social position (there’s heavy implications that he’s like some sort of noble or something) [SR Snowy Pine Fairytale].

IMO, these backgrounds really shaped the way these two men interact with the world.

Xu Mo has a detached and indifferent view towards other people. They simply exist and don’t bring anything positive or negative to him. His ambition to ensure the survival of humanity reflects this too because it’s pure utilitarianism; everyone (apart from MC) can be sacrificed equally for the greater good. If anything, he probably finds other people to be interesting subjects to study, no matter what kind of person they are. IIRC the only time he expressed dislike to people, or a group of people, was when he told Hades he enjoyed killing thieves LOL.

Meanwhile, Mo Yi has an elitist streak to the point where he and his MC actually clashed opinions and debated each other [SR Warm Fingertips]. It’s incredibly ironic because he’s a psychiatrist who treats his patients without judgment, but at the same time he looks down on so many things and people (PUAs, people who betray love, hypocrites who only seek power and fame) [Ch2; Personal Story Ch1-3; SSR Moonlit Ball].

One of the things I noticed early on is that Xu Mo draws from the Eastern scholar archetype, “Xu Mo Character Study”, while Mo Yi actually draws more from the Western gentleman archetype.

So, just to summarize this section, Xu Mo is detached from the world naturally and likes to observe people and try to blend in. Mo Yi deliberately draws a line between him and others and, at times, has the casual cruelty of someone born as nobility (arrogance is carved into his bones, even if he tends to keep it low-key because he generally has a “gentle and polite” attitude).

2) Stance on Love

Xu Mo didn’t understand love, or really even emotions. Love is grown between him and his MC (there’s multiple analogies throughout the game about how their love is like a seed). I think [Ch25] pretty much sums it up for Xu Mo, where he goes through that emotional rollercoaster and muses about how, at the end of human evolution, emotions should be discarded. He also admits that MC taught him the “fear” of a normal person, because now he has someone he cannot give up no matter what, which goes against his previous utilitarian beliefs.

Compared to this, Mo Yi fell in love at first sight. Yes, you read that right. The “scientist and logical” archetype fell in love at first sight LOL. Not only does he acknowledge it right off the bat, but he fully embraces it too and believes that real love makes people better versions of themselves [Personal Story]. Mo Yi is a through and through psychiatrist in that he never underestimates how primal emotions (and love) can be.

Heck, not only is this central to his personal story, but we also have hints that one of Mo Yi’s parents fell in love at first sight with the other person (and he inherited their predisposition for that). Unfortunately, their love had a tragic end and Mo Yi seems to have a huge grudge against his father for whatever happened to his mother (again, Mihoyo is keeping this a mystery LOL), but Mo Yi explicitly confirms that even if his love leads to a tragic end he will still walk down this road and attempt to change it [SR Cool Summer].

IMO one other difference between them re: love is this exchange that lives rent free in my head which I saw in a Xu Mo/Reader/Mo Yi fanfiction LOL. Bear with me here.

Mo Yi: Wearing a mask for a long time will tire you.

Xu Mo: It’s enough just to wear one in front of the necessary person.

Xu Mo and his MC make great efforts to understand each other’s worlds, but this understanding comes from the doors he chooses to open to her. He reveals himself as much as possible, but I think he’s an inherently private person (and there’s all that Ares stuff) so there are times where he hides things so that he doesn’t worry his MC. I think this is enough to count as a “mask”. Sometimes he pretends he’s okay when he’s not.

On the other hand, while I think Mo Yi shares the sentiment in not wanting his MC to worry unduly, he tries to reveal himself as much as possible. There’s an amazingly relatable conflict in him here where he wants her to know every side of him, but he’s also terrified of how she’ll react if he shows her his ugliest sides and imperfect sides (he has some sort of phobia or fear about imperfection, but Mihoyo has been keeping mum on the exact details of this so far) [Personal Story; SR Sculpted Heart].

It’s pretty ironic that Mo Yi wants to be perfect, but he realizes that the more perfect he is the more of a sense of distance there’ll be between him and his MC because of the subconscious pressure someone “perfect” brings LOL [SSR Border of Light and Darkness].

3) Stance on Growth

If you haven’t realized that one of Xu Mo’s greatest themes is the phrase “Take your time in growing”, then what have you been reading? Jkjk, but seriously this gets repeated in multiple places, although my brain always goes back to [Blossom Date] for this.

Even if he and his MC start off with fundamental differences (she believes all people have inherent worth and can’t be involuntarily sacrificed), he wants to personally watch the journey of her maturation. He also subtly guides and teaches her. Unfortunately, due to circumstances of the main story, he doesn’t get his wish and she grows up a lot out of his eyes, but their relationship still revolves around him wanting her to have as much time as possible to grow.

He’s, for a lack of better word, extremely gentle about this (setting aside as much of the Ares and story parts as we can, because LovePro’s story is tragedy on tragedy LOL). I think [Autumn Blaze Date] shows a good analogy for this, because he holds the bicycle steady for MC until she can get going on her own, and he also catches her the first time.

Meanwhile, Mo Yi... ha ha ha. I just came out of chapter 3 for his [Personal Story] and let’s just say his philosophy is tough love. It’s ironic because, in many of his other dates, he wrestles with an internal conflict to protect his MC but also to let her experience all sorts of things to both test and temper her.

This is going to touch on the previous topic about love for a moment, but a part of Mo Yi’s love at first sight experience is also “testing” the other person through all sorts of situations and, after seeing all their different sides, he can determine whether his love at first sight is one that’ll last for the rest of his life or if it’s just a fleeting moment of beauty and emotion.

He also extremely respects his MC’s sense of justice and pursuit of the truth in the world, no matter what she encounters, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this is what drew him to her in the first place. But MC’s occupation and beliefs will make her confront a lot of dark and dangerous things and so, whenever possible, Mo Yi lets her confront these in “controlled” situations to train her. If I had to make an analogy, IMO, he’d let his MC ride the bicycle and pick her up only after she falls, or when she’s like 0.1cm away from the ground LOL.

Mo Yi is (perhaps rightfully) called out on this by another character, who believes Mo Yi is too arrogant in believing everything is under his control and he can prevent MC from getting hurt whenever he lets her get into dangerous situations, and I’m interested to see if Mihoyo will let him experience failures with his philosophy so he can grow more, like the things Xu Mo went through re: his personal beliefs [Ch24].

Overall

I don’t know how well I explained myself, especially for people who don’t know anything about Mo Yi, and each section goes back and forth between the two characters LOL so here’s another section that attempts to describe their overall atmosphere.

If, like I said in my Headcanon Notes, Xu Mo makes me immediately think of all the words for soft, gentle, light, still, water, etc etc., then the words I constantly think about for Mo Yi is messily human. He’s like a bundle of contradictions, but coherent because it’s being intentionally done.

Mo Yi doesn’t discriminate against his patients, yet he can be elitist and looks down on others. He wants to let MC have dangerous experiences, but also wants to protect her. He wants to be perfect, but he also wants to reveal himself entirely to his MC because that’s real love.

In contrast, Xu Mo has a very clean and orderly personality LOL. You can draw clear cause and effect lines from his personality to his actions.

So, anyway, these are two interesting characters who start off with similar archetypes as scientific logical men of scholar/gentleman dispositions, but yet they’re also on opposite ends for a lot of things such as their approach to emotions and the world.

Oh wait, lastly, because I don’t have a good place to put this—but I think it’s funny—is that both characters are pretty possessive and greedy, but while Xu Mo does things in a sneaky, cunning and fox-like way Mo Yi gets ridiculously open about his jealousy and it’s hilariously cute but also almost childish? I often forget Mo Yi is older than Xu Mo by a year, because Xu Mo honestly feels a bit more mature than him LOL. If we count them actually aging by when their game came out though, then Mo Yi is 28 and Xu Mo is 29 now.

[boxofbadaddiction]

Thinking about...

How Ron started working for George at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

My theory, or headcanon (however you'd like to look at it), is that Molly proposed the idea...and George absolutely hated that suggestion.

But not because it's Ron.

He hated it because never in his life would George have imagined himself doing what he does without his Twin, and the thought of 'replacing him' causes bile to rise in his throat.

It would take many days of denial, small arguments and George finally reaching his breaking point to consider the idea that: perhaps Ron wouldn't be such a bad addition to the team...

I imagine it's sometime after the War and George has finally brought himself to reopen the store. Maybe it's only been back in business a couple weeks or for a few months now, but he's struggling a little bit. Because he doesn't want to admit he needs another worker around to take some of the load off his shoulders. And a little more than that: he just doesn't want to do it with anyone other than Fred.

Meanwhile, Ron is struggling to find work or get placement in Auror training. Because let's face it: even though he is Harry Potter's right hand man and helped win a War; his grades were...unideal.

I see Ron venting to Molly one day in the kitchen, perhaps after receiving another rejection letter, and she's running a loving hand in comforting circles over his shoulders while he's slumped over a hot chocolate. She's telling him to hang in there and that these things take time, offering that perhaps he should look into a part-time role with his Father within the Ministry. Or reminding him that Percy offered him an internship in his office.

But Ron hates both those ideas.

At this point George walks through the door looking exhausted. Greets the pair casually as he shrugs off his jacket and throws it over the back of a chair. He places a quick kiss to Molly's cheek and ruffles Ronniekin's hair as he moves to make himself a hot drink to wind down after a busy day.

"Hello Dear, busy day?" Molly smiles somewhat sadly, taking in her son's tired figure.

"Extremely." George huffs as he sits down across from the pair with slumped posture. "What's wrong with you, Ronnie?"

"Another rejection letter." Ron replies sadly as he annoyedly flicks the cause of his dejection to the centre of the table and drops himself against the backrest of his chair, taking up a similar slouched position to his older brother.

That's when Molly's struck by the idea. As she looks between her two boys and wishes she had a solution for them...the answer so simply presents itself. But she doesn't say anything.

Not yet.

She doesn't want to get Ron's hopes up if that's something he'd be interested in, and she knows he would be given how much he loves the Twins Shop. But more than that, she doesn't want to just spring the thought onto George because she knows how touchy the topic is going to be.

And it was.

A few days after this thought comes to her she gets her opportunity to run the idea past George. The two of them are alone doing a mindless task together, like washing the dishes. George scrubbing as Molly dries.

They've worked in comfortable silence thus far, but that's because Molly's too busy running a million different ways she can bring this up to George, through her mind, and which is the least likely way to upset him. George meanwhile is just enjoying the time with his Mother and the familiarity the task at hand brings. A strange sort of nostalgia washing over him, one which he'd never consider to be as therapeutic as it was.

But there's something nagging at the back of George's mind. And it has everything to do with the fact his Mother has been dutifully drying the same glass for 5 minutes now.

"Mum..." his voice snaps Molly out of her daze, drawing a surprised hum of acknowledgement from her throat. "I'd say that glass is dry by now." George joked with a crooked smile. "Oh, yes, I suppose you're right."

Molly's slightly flustered and places the cup down. But her expression remains rather vacant, mildly discontent. This finally prompts George to ask what's on her mind. Molly decides to simply go for it. There's no easy way to bring this up around George and she's really just stalling to forgo an uncomfortable conversation.

"George, I've been thinking..."

"Not good."

"I'm serious right now."

"So am I. You thinking never means anything good for me and-...for me."

"It's about Ron and finding him a suitable job, until he's accepted into training..."

And that's how it begins. She cushions the conversation considerably before asking the question she's been stewing over for days. She talks about how disheartened Ron has been in his misfortune, how desperately he wants to be apart of the work force. She talks about how tired George has been the last few months trying to run the shop by himself and how she just wants to be able to help the two of them get on their feet.

When she finally does ask the question: "What if, Ron came and worked for you?" It doesn't go down well.

She watches how swiftly his body language changes. From his casual 'I'm listening' demeanour to instantly putting his walls up. She watches as the words cause him to freeze. Every muscle in his body turning ridged and defensive.

His response is near immediate: 'No'. And he returns to the task at hand, however, he's no longer so comfortable within the grown silence.

He holds zero care in the way he handles the dishes as he cleans them, though it's notable how hard he's trying to not take any of his frustration out on them.

The conversation doesn't stay civil for very long.

Molly falls immediately into a sort of plead as she questions why George won't even take the time to consider the idea. She points out every reason why it is the best possible solution to both his and Rons current situations.

George shuts down not really answering any of Mollys questions as she rambles. The words seemingly falling from her mouth faster than she can process them; working herself into a right fluster.

George warns her quite a few times to drop the subject, but she continues, and he finally snaps. Tossing whatever dish is in his hands down into the water and yelling for her to stop talking. To drop the conversation because it's not going to happen before storming off elsewhere to cool down.

They spent a couple days without speaking after that.

More weeks pass and Weasleys Wizard Wheezes only gets busier. George feels like he's drowning in paperwork and just can't seem to get ahead. He goes to work an hour early and comes home hours late. He's tired and just about had enough. He can't even begin to imagine how he and Fred ever found so much joy in the work as they had.

"It's not work if you love to do it." Is what Fred always used to say when people would ask how he could possibly be so happy while on the clock.

George couldn't do this much longer. Not without his brother.

After one particularly difficult day George arrives home after all other occupants of the Burrow had gone to bed...or so he thought.

Walking in through the back door to all the houses lights out, save for a single lamp in the sitting room which Arthur and Molly leave on for him, he collapses into one of the Armchairs, too tired to attempt the walk up stairs right now.

His palms dig into the sockets of his eyes, harshly rubbing at each lid, to try rid the sandy feeling in them brought on from lack of sleep, then his fingers draw down on his cheeks; pulling at the skin in frustration.

He doesn't know it but Ron is, at this point, looking at him from the staircase landing. He'd meant to come down for a cup of water but instead found himself faced with his Brother.

Or rather, the shell of his brother.

Ron's never seen him look so...hollow and lifeless. It's like a horrible flashback to those months following the loss of Fred and it makes his stomach turn.

Ron comes over and sits on the sofa opposite George, a look of sympathy and concern on his face. George tries to joke and make light of his current situation but the humour and light doesn't come close to reaching his eyes and the smile he paints on looks painful.

After a little while of trying to get George to open up, and receiving quite the snap of attitude Ron concedes. He very well would have left for bed if the hanging silence hadn't made George feel enough guilt to attempt a change in conversation.

Soon though, after the initial awkwardness subsided, they get lost in talk.

It had started as a question of how Ron's job search were going but somehow ended with the pair laughing over silly childhood memories. Something George hadn't been able to do in a while.

Something changed between both brothers that night. They'd bonded in a new way and were much closer than they likely ever had been before. Ron had even managed to spark some product inspiration in George, and over the next couple days as he tries to perfect the concept they spend more time together.

From then on, George can feel a shift in the way he views Ron and in the possibility of him working at WWW. The idea of hiring him doesn't bring that bile feeling to his throat as it does with any other name or applicant who is suggested to him.

So, when George believes he's finally perfected the new product and takes it home to show Ron, that's the day he asks Oh, Dear Ronniekin's to work for him at the shop.

Which he of course agrees to.

[roserozu22]

Rogercop

Author’s note: It’s me with a new update and you didn’t have to wait long. A massive thank you to my beta Nina of fairy tail!

My Social Media accounts:

Twitter: RoseRozu1

Tumblr: Roserozu22

Discord: RoseRozu#2428

Morning had sprung and Nathalie was getting Gabriel ready for a very important event -  careers day at Collège Françoise Dupont. 

 

“Sir, are you sure this is a good idea?” Nathalie asked worriedly. 

 

“Yes, this is a good opportunity for me to see this Nathaniel boy’s parents,” Gabriel smirked. 

 

Suddenly, the door opened and there stood Adrien fiddling with his necklace nervously. “Ready, papa?” 

 

Gabriel looked at his youngest child and smiled reassuringly at him. “You didn’t force me to come with you, and to be fair, I haven’t seen much of your teachers, only your principal. So no need to be nervous mon petit.” 

 

Adrien smiled at Gabriel and then took hold of his father’s hands and Felix’s once he entered the foyer. They got into the car to travel to the school. 

=^._.^= ∫

When the Agreste family arrived at the school (a little late, due to some idiots on the road), they met one Mr. Tom Dupain. 

 

“My day begins at 4 a.m. every morning because the bakery opens at 7. You would think that the life of a baker is pretty routine, making the same pastries, rolls, cakes... but actually, it's different every day. One day someone might order a cake in the shape of the Eiffel Tower, and another day you might-” Tom explained to Gabriel and Felix’s boredom and Adrien’s interest.

“Marinette will come around and pass out some croissants baked fresh this morning,” Tom said as he pointed at his daughter. 

 

“Thank you, Mr Dupain. Now, let's meet Alya's mom, who is head chef at the Grand Paris hotel, owned by our mayor, Mr Bourgeois.” Miss Bustier. 

 

On Marinette’s rounds, she smiled happily at Adrien. She was excited as she knew that his model career would end later than most, giving him more time to model. However, she smiled sadly at Felix as he looked disinterested. As Marinette was making the rounds, Chloé opened a case with a bracelet inside.

 

Sabrina looked at the bracelet and immediately grabbed it, “It's beautiful!”

 

Chloé then promptly slapped Sabrina’s hand. “Don't touch it!” 

 

Whilst this was happening, Gabriel whispered in Felix’s ear, “Remind me why I sent you two to this school?”

 

“Because you wanted me to learn the ‘commoner’ life, and also Adrien wanted to go to school just like his big brother,” Felix whispered back.

 

Gabriel hummed in thought. 

 

“Put it away, Chloé! It could get in the wrong hands!” Mr  Bourgeois attempted to scold his daughter

 

“I wonder how many croissants your dad would have to sell to buy you one of these? What am I saying? He'd have to sell the whole store!” Chloé taunted Marinette as she noticed her passing out the croissants.

 

“Well, if you're so rich, obviously you don't need free croissants!” Marinette said as she left the table but not without smirking as she could hear a poor comeback from Chloé. 

 

Meanwhile, Plagg was having a slight conundrum himself. “Is that Camembert?” Plagg asked himself as flew from Felix’s bag to Chloé's. “Huh? Oh, that's not Camembert... but it is very shiny. I like shiny, hmm!”

 

In the world outside of kwamis… “Unfortunately, I have no dishes to share. But maybe Mr Bourgeois will invite you all to the hotel and treat you to lunch!” Alya’s mum said while looking at her boss, with a glare that could rival Gabriel’s

 

The said boss nodded while sweating nervously at his employee’s glare and sighed in relief when the glare melted away. While the students were applauding, a policeman named Roger started laughing.

Unfortunately, Plagg caused Marinette to slip (as he landed on his head after continuing playing with the bracelet) 

 

“Marinette, are you okay?” Adrien asked as he left his chair while helping the girl up, not knowing that Gabriel was staring at her intently. 

 

Before Marinette could answer, however, Gabriel swiftly put Adrien back in his chair and stood in front of said chair protectively. 

 

“Next on the list is Sabrina's father, a policeman. Please welcome Officer Roger!” Miss Bustier said quickly to diffuse the attention and stop Gabriel from glaring at the students and herself.

 

The students started applauding, although with more confusion than anything else. With a quick glare from his brother and father, Adrien didn’t even bother clapping. 

 

“I've been a police officer for 15 years, and I firmly believe that every citizen is innocent until proven guilty.” As soon Officer Roger said this, the drama queen of the class exclaimed. “My bracelet! It's gone! I had it a second ago.” She then looks at Marinette “You! You stole it!”

 

“What? What are you talking about?!” Marinette asked confusedly.

 

“You purposely tripped over my bag so you could steal my bracelet!” Chloé then looks at Roger “You're a policeman! Arrest her!”

 

“My daughter is not a thief!” Tom defended Marinette and glared at the other girl.

 

Gabriel could only look at the students and parents and without warning, got a massive headache and thought of removing Adrien (and Felix) from the stupidity of the whole thing. 

 

Roger then blew his whistle without warning which caused Gabriel’s headache to worsen. “Hold on a minute, Miss Bourgeois, we don't accuse without proof! Now, everyone, calm down, please. Maybe you simply misplaced your bracelet.”

 

“You're calling me a liar?! Daddy!” Chloé said in surprise and anger.

 

“Roger, I demand you search for this girl’s bracelet immediately!”

 

“Ha!”

 

“Please, everybody!” Miss Bustier pleaded although she was not heard at all. 

 

“Need I remind you that as mayor of this city, I am your superior!” Mr Bourgeois said unkindly towards the policeman.

 

Before Roger could say anymore, Gabriel decided to speak up.

 

“I’ve had enough of this. My children don’t need to see this debacle. They came to school for their education, not some soap opera that is poorly made!” Gabriel then noticed that Felix’s friend was recording the whole thing. “This boy hasn’t stopped recording since I’ve entered the classroom, maybe there is something on there." Gabriel then gently moved Adrien from his seat and said. “I’m going back home with Adrien and until this issue is resolved he will no longer be attending school."  Gabriel suddenly looked at Felix. “If you like you can go home with me or stay for the whole day.” 

 

Felix looked at the drama gleefully and then looked at his father and replied. “I’ll stay here and see the drama unfold.” Gabriel nodded and left the classroom with a very reluctant Adrien, but not without giving his secretary’s number to Nathaniel’s parents. 

=^._.^= ∫

As soon as Adrien and Gabriel arrived at the mansion, Adrien was instantly sent to his room (as according to Gabriel he had had too much excitement and needed rest) and went down to his lair and transformed into his evil alter-ego Hawkmoth.

=^._.^= ∫

At the exact moment, Mr Bourgeois and Tom were seen shouting at each other while the students were looking at the two adults in interest (mostly Felix).

 

Nathaniel then looked at the adults and said, “Let’s do what my Mr Agreste said and look through Nino’s video. Maybe we can find something because I for one would like to see my significant other outside of the mansion or photo shoots.” 

 

The adults looked at the upcoming artist in shock (while Felix smiled at the artist with pride until he felt something hit his ankle and swiftly noticed that it was the missing bracelet on top of his kwami’s head and rapidly left the room quietly) not noticing that a new drama was going down. 

 

=^._.^= ∫

Ms Mendeleiev threw a piece of litter into the bin but missed so the litter landed on the floor which caused Rogercop to grab the litter. He then flew to where Ms Mendeleiev was.

 

“You're under arrest!” Rogercop shouted at the poor science teacher. 

 

“What? What for?” Ms Mendeleiev asked in confusion and horror. 

 

“You threw litter on a public sidewalk, jaywalked and crossed the red light,” Rogercop said robotically. The police whistle was still around his neck. His skin was quite pale, and a hollow, light blue triangle pointing downwards was at the centre of his chest. His helmet sported a light blue line above a light blue shield in front of his eyes. His left shoulder and right shoulder wore blinking red and blue police lights, respectively.

 

“Well, I suppose I did. But you can't arrest me! Who are you anyway? You don't look like a policeman!”

Rogercop then threw cuffs at the science teacher “I sentence you to trash duty.” He then blew his whistle which controlled the handcuffs and made Ms Mendeleiev robotically throw the litter in the trash can.

 

“Next mission: Seeking justice on Mayor Bourgeois.”

=^._.^= ∫

Meanwhile back at the school, Felix was seen lecturing Plagg (who was still wearing the bracelet). “Never do that again! Do you know the troubles you caused!” 

 

“I thought it was Camembert,” Plagg said. “And besides I think the bracelet suits my rock-hard abs.”

 

“Well, clearly it isn’t Camembert” Felix groaned and swiftly thought of something else, “and Plagg you do not have abs.” Felix then stopped as he heard footsteps and looked down and saw it was Rogercop. 

 

“Great, great, just great, thanks to you Plagg, we have now to fight against an akumatized policeman. You’ve made another one of your dumb decisions.”

 

“Sorry, Felix,” Plagg said, remorsefully. 

 

“I know, now let’s try and get this bracelet off you, and fix everything.” 

 

Plagg nodded while Felix began looking through his locker for anything that could help. Meanwhile, Rogercop had caused one of the parents to run laps around the gymnasium. 

=^._.^= ∫

Simultaneously, back at the mansion, Adrien was seen lying down on his bed with a look of boredom on his face. He was texting Nathaniel who was giving him updates regarding the situation of the missing bracelet. 

 

=^._.^= ∫

“See, Chloé? I tripped on the bag, but Sabrina held the bracelet, we are all suspects!” Marinette said (while trying and failing to be diplomatic).

 

“But, what about Mr Agreste, isn’t he like in most of the video?” One of the students asked.

 

“To be fair, I wanted to film Adrien and Felix, but I think Mr Agreste knew what I was doing or that he wanted Adrien to not see. You can never know with that dude.” Nino said in Mr Agreste's defence.

 

“And let’s remember Mr Agreste is a fashion designer. If he wants to he can design any jewellery that he or the twins need or want,” Alya said. 

 

And once again, Marinette opened her big mouth and caused the situation to be five times worse than it was until Rogercop entered the classroom uninvited. He asked the students, parents and teacher where the mayor was. They all denied that they knew where he was until a voice spoke up. Recognising the voice, everyone groaned. 

 

“Mr Principal, “I demand that you find who stole my daughter's bracelet ASAP! Or your job is on the line, sir…!”

 

Marinette then quietly left the room and jokingly said to Tikki “Who knew that our mayor could shout like that.”

 

Tikki then glared at her holder and sternly said. “No time for jokes, we’re going to make things right. Now transform!”

 

Marinette smiled nervously at Tikki and shouted “Tikki, spots on!”

 

At the same time in the locker room, Felix had managed to get Plagg out of the bracelet with some help from pepper and Camembert cheese. Knowing he had no time to waste, he quickly transformed into Chat Noir.

=^._.^= ∫

It wasn’t until late at night that everything went back to normal with a slight hiccup from the usual lucky charm item, Chat Noir’s antics and Rogercop firing his handcuffs all over the place. 

=^._.^= ∫

The next day, the twins were seen together and with happy smiles on their faces as Adrien was allowed to go back to school after Gabriel received a call from the mayor telling him about where the bracelet was all along. All’s well that ends well as Roger got promoted to lieutenant and Nathaniel’s parents were coming over for dinner over the weekend. 

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Lost Part 7

Harry Potter Marauders Era 

Link to Part 6

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M- smut

_____

“Time to be a good girl…”

You repeated the thought again before stepping into your bedroom. The room was cool and quiet as you waited to see if you could hear the television. Your parents would be so lost in their Christmas specials that they wouldn’t realize their youngest daughter was being ravaged by her boyfriend (whom they thought was a perfect angel).

“Reggie?”

You whispered his name as you went to flip on the light. A hand immediately caught yours as you were turned and pushed against the wall.

“Leave it off, for now.”

Regulus’ voice was calm and cold as he took both of your hands in his and held them over your head.

“You’ve kept me waiting.”

“Yeah, for maybe 10 minutes.”

You replied, sounding a little sassier than planned. Regulus chuckled in the dark before shoving his body against yours.

“I should shut that smart mouth up.”

You bit your lip. He wanted to play his games and tonight you were more than excited about it.

“You said that you had a surprise for me?”

Regulus tilted your face to his. You could see his face in the moonlight. He gave you a little sneer before leaning down. Thinking that you were going to get a kiss, you puckered your lips waiting to feel his mouth on yours. When you didn’t get the sensation that you wanted, your eyes snapped open.

“Only good girls get surprises. You’re being a bit too snarky.”

Regulus replied.

“I was good all night.”

You protested. Regulus finally leaned down to kiss you. You kissed him, perhaps a little too eagerly.

“So why was my brother watching us all night?”

Regulus asked. He had let go of your hands and backed away from you at this point. Walking across the room, he sat down in the armchair in the corner. Regulus put his arms behind his head and stretched his legs out as if he owned the whole damn place.

“I think that he’s concerned about us. He actually asked if we ran off and got married.”

Regulus patted his lap.

“Come here, love.”

You didn’t wait to be told twice before rushing across the room and taking your place on his lap. Regulus was silent for a few moments as you lavished attention on his cheeks and neck.

“What did you tell him?”

“No, of course. I think he is just worried because of your family…”

“I would consider him a fool if he didn’t worry.”

Regulus replied. His left hand gently reached up your leg and stopped at the hem of your dress.

“I remember something about black lace knickers.”

He commented. You quickly jumped off of Regulus’ lap and hastily unzipped your dress. The garment hit the floor leaving you only in the lace thong that you had picked out when shopping with Lily the day before. To your relief, Lily hadn’t asked any questions. Had she noticed, she would probably be “checking up on you” at that very moment.

“They’re new...I bought these yesterday.”

You commented, knowing that you were probably offering information that Regulus didn’t care about. He had flipped the small reading lamp on and was looking you over like a hawk. Those grey eyes studied each and every inch of your body. Tonight, the two of you had more time to do whatever you wanted and he was going to enjoy every moment of it.

“Let me see the back.”

Regulus ordered. You turned, feeling his eyes on your ass.

“I like them. Back on my lap, sweetheart.”

You quickly sat back down as Regulus manhandled you so that your back was against his chest. He reached out and slowly rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. You swallowed back a ball of tension the moment that the dark mark on his arm came into view.

“Be sure to bring these back to school.”

Regulus commented as his left hand began to slide up your body. You gasped as he greedily cupped your breast and tugged at your nipple.

“Hush now. We don’t want mummy and daddy knowing what we are doing in here, do we?”

Regulus whispered in your ear. You frantically shook your head as Regulus nuzzled his face against your neck.

“That’s a good girl. Where do you want me to touch you first?”

You quickly grabbed Regulus’ hand and placed it over your knicker covered mound. He slowly started circling your clit with his middle finger. You pressed your lips together to stop a moan from coming out.

“Keep quiet. You can’t let mum and dad hear.”

You though, trying to keep your moan to a minimum. Regulus dropped his mouth back to your ear as he slid his hand into your knickers.

“Love, you’re so wet. Too bad you can’t moan too loud. I love hearing you cry my name.”

“Reggie, you’re killing me.”

You whimpered. Regulus laughed evilly.

“Poor baby.”

You clenched your eyes closed as his long fingers teased at your entrance. Turning your head, you shoved your lips against his as Regulus pushed two fingers inside. The realization that this was one of the more erotic things that you had ever done hit you like a brick. You were on your lover's lap while he finger fucked you with your parents and sister right down the hall.

Regulus quickly took over control in the hungry french kisses. He knew that if he didn’t keep his mouth on yours, you would be crying his name in no time.

“I’m close.”

You whispered. Regulus gave you a mirthful grin before yanking his hand out of your knickers. Your eyes snapped open as you thought about protesting but stopped yourself.

“That was mean.”

Regulus gave you that sarcastic little sneer that he was so good at.

“Why don’t you go lay down on the bed and I’ll show you what I brought.”

You jumped off of Regulus’ lap and raced to your bed.. Laying down, you looked at Regulus with those “I have been very good” eyes that usually got you what you wanted. Regulus liked to think that he had complete control of the situation when it came to making love like this but you knew that you were the one with control.

Regulus, meanwhile, stood up and slowly began to unbutton his shirt. He tossed it carelessly to the armchair that he had been sitting in.

“Lose the pants too.”

You demanded earning a smile from Regulus.

“Soon.”

Regulus quickly took his place over you on the bed. Placing a knee on either side of your body, he reached to his back pocket and pulled out his school tie. Regulus couldn’t help but smile the moment that the realization clicked in his mind.

“That’s crafty.”

You commented as Regulus took both of your hands and his and raised them above your head. He wrapped the tie around your wrists and headboard.

“This was the surprise?”

You asked. Regulus nodded.

“Yes, try to get out of that.”

You attempted to move your hands but were unable to. Regulus appeared to be thrilled with his handiwork before leaning back. This was just like at school. You wouldn’t be going anywhere that Regulus didn’t want you to.

Meanwhile, you moved your hands again before smiling up at him. It had been a long time since the two of you had done something like this and you were more than thrilled for this to be happening.

“You know that I like this...and the fact you brought your school tie…”

You said fighting the pangs of desire going through your body. Regulus smirked as he stroked his fingers over your breasts and stomach.

“I figured that you would enjoy that detail.”

Regulus slowly moved his position off of you to pull the lace knickers up. Sliding a hand back over your mound, he stroked you for a few moments before releasing the lace material and letting it playfully snap against your body. You squealed at the impact as Regulus shoved his hand over your mouth.

“Love, you’re going to get us in trouble. Hush, now.”

You nodded and placed your hand over Regulus’ taking your time to stroke over each of his fingers. Regulus didn’t move for a moment.

“Good girl.”

He praised before taking his hand away. His grey eyes fell down to your knickers.

“Maybe we should take these off? Ass up, sweetheart.”

Regulus suggested before tugging the fabric over your hips and down your legs. You whimpered realizing that you were totally naked while Regulus still had his dress pants on. Trying to move your hands, the frustration of not being able to touch your lover was beginning to set in. Regulus chuckled, his voice dropping an octave.

“You’re not touching me...might as well get over it. As for me...well, I can do what I want.”

You swallowed back a sigh as Regulus leaned down for a kiss. The kiss was sweetly innocent. His hands, however, was the devious party. Regulus cupped your breasts as he shoved the plump flesh together.

Leaning down, Regulus took your left nipple into his mouth. He nipped at the tender flesh as his right hand continued to tease the right nipple before letting his hand slide down your body. The moment that his hand came into contact with your core, you could have come.

“Don’t think about it.”

Regulus muttered as he kissed the nipple that he had been paying so much attention to. Grey eyes rolled up to yours as he got off of the bed. You bit your lip as Regulus unbuckled his belt and pushed his trousers down his slender hips.

“Would you like a nice blowjob?”

You asked, licking your lips. Regulus smiled and shook his head.

“This is all about you, sugar. Now, I would rather taste those pretty lips.”

Regulus took his place on top of you and came back for another kiss. You sighed as he nibbled on your bottom lip. Right as he was about to start teasing your tongue with his there was a knock at the locked door. Regulus was glaring over his shoulder as your mother’s voice came from the other side.

“Sweetheart, are you still awake?”

Regulus looked down at you with a raised eyebrow. His hair had started to fall into his eyes as he mouthed “answer her.”

“I’m just finishing up a homework assignment and getting changed, mum.”

You choked out as Regulus started rubbing his cock against your clit. It took all that you had to not start moaning as Regulus grinned like the little devil that he was. Your cheeks were blood red as you realized the situation that you were in. Your mother stood on the other side of the door while you were tied to your bed with your boyfriend about to fuck you. Regulus was obviously enjoying himself with the whole thing too.

“Reggie, please.”

You whispered, pleading for him to behave for just a moment. He shook his head before pushing just the tip inside of you. Teasing your entrance, he watched with a devilish little grin as you tried to focus on not moaning while your mother was on the other side of the door.

“Okay, sweetheart. You’re father and I are going to bed. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

You managed to get out. Regulus waited until he heard her footsteps on the stairs before looking back at you smugly.

“Regulus Arcturus Black, you could have gotten us in trouble.”

Regulus quickly shoved the rest of the way in.

“Mummy needs to go away. It's my turn to have you.”

He commented.

“Dirty boy.”

You replied with a smile. The smile alone told Regulus that you weren’t mad. He set a slow steady rhythm. It wasn’t fast enough to make you want to come but enough to set a maddening sensation in your tummy.

“You like it though.”

Regulus groaned. He reached up and undid the tie that held your hands above your head.

“Turn on your stomach.”

Regulus commanded as he pulled out to let you do as you were told. You had barely got situated with your ass when Regulus shoved back in. Leaning down he pressed a kiss to your spine.

“Hold on to the headboard, love.”

You quickly did as you were told. As soon as your hands wrapped around the bars, Regulus increased his speed. You were thankful for your headboard at this point.

“Damn it, I want to make noise.”

Regulus growled. You frantically nodded.

“Me too.”

“I want to make you scream.”

Regulus grunted. You shoved your face into your pillow and screamed as loud as you could.

“Well, that works...could be better though…”

Twenty minutes later, you lay snuggled against Regulus’ chest. His long fingers stroked through your hair as he waited for your breathing to return to normal.

“Maybe the next time we meet up to have sex, if we aren’t back at school, we can sneak off to a hotel or something.”

You suggested. Regulus smiled.

“We could always go to one of my family's estates? We aren’t using all of them at the same time. Besides...we could play house and see what it’s going to be like eventually.”

You smiled against his chest.

“That would be nice.”

Over the next week, Regulus would sneak out to come to see you as much as he could. This morning in particular, the two of you sat at a small cafe in London. You sat snuggled against Regulus’ side as the two of you sat quietly whispering to each other.

“So you really meant it? We are going to be open about being boyfriend and girlfriend at school? What if it gets back to your parents?”

You questioned as Regulus took a sip of the tea in front of him. Putting the cup down, he turned his attention back to you. He was thankful that the little cafe was drafty. This provided all of the more excuse for you to be as close to him as possible.

“Don’t worry about my family. If anyone says anything either Evan or myself will take care of whoever it is.”

You were surprised. Evan Rosier was okay with Regulus dating you...a muggle-born? What was this world coming to? Better yet, what did Regulus threaten Evan with to make his best friend okay with this?

“Reggie, how is Evan okay with us as a couple?”

Regulus shrugged.

“I think he was sick of me being a miserable bastard. Plus the whole Slytherins adoring Hufflpuffs seems to actually be a thing. Evan may be a difficult and disagreeable dick at times but he actually cares about my happiness...you make me happy so Evan is looking the other way. If he suddenly decides our being together is a problem...well, it won’t end great for him.”

You snuggled your face against his shoulder as the door to the cafe opened and closed.

“Regulus?”

Both Regulus and yourself looked up to see none other than Orion Black looking down at you...

_______

@amelie-black

@realgaytrash

@truly-insatiable

@nikki-sixx-is-daddy

@swinginsoulbailiffrascal

@velveteencurls

@kitkatkl

@bisou-doux

@brokencasbutt67-writer

@authoressskr

@hankypranky

@fandom-trash-worth-it

@summer-novak

@li0nh34rt

@tas898

@marichromatic

@maggioli-m

@stuckinsaudi1

@knight-of-gleefulness

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts

@shaylybaby2032

@emiwrites3reads

@untoldshortsofthefandoms

@sprnaturallover

@shitfaceddaniel

@spiderxalmighty

@wontlookaway

@mycuddlycorner

[secretgamergirl]

A Little Horrifying Primer on Transphobes

Some time ago, I put together a Little Fact Checking Primer on Trans People, as a basic resource for disabusing people of some of the many completely ridiculous yet absurdly widespread beliefs about trans people that simply have no basis whatsoever in reality. And wouldn’t you know it, every single lie exposed in that primer is not only still widely believed, but is presently being used as a basis to sign some absolutely horrific human rights abuses into law. So it’s high time I follow that up, in this case focused more on who keeps actively spreading these lies and why. I’m going to try and keep things as light as I can here, but we’re going to be looking at the most monstrous side of human nature, so apologies in advance if this is a dark read.

First, let me just note that there are two things I don’t plan to do in this piece. I’m not going to waste time debunking the arguments of the people I’m highlighting (much of this is already covered in my earlier primer, others have done the work in cases where I haven’t, and frankly these people’s claims should be self-evidently utter nonsense to begin with). I am also going to be very selective in what I link to, or even share related images of, as I would frankly not like to fill a post on a blog I generally try to keep safe for all audiences with media directly dealing with, for instance, child sexual assault, and much of the relevant information also involves stochastic terrorism against innocent people, and I would prefer not to throw more fuel onto such fires.

Transphobes lie constantly, about everything.

To some degree this is obvious. We’re talking about people who scaremonger about the possibilities of trans women dominating competitive sports and assaulting people in restrooms, despite the status quo already reflecting the conditions they insist would make these inevitibilities for decades and centuries respectively, and their grim visions never once having come to pass, and also constantly insisting that the woman in the photo below is actually a man, going further to say this is evident to anyone giving her the merest glance.

It goes beyond that though. There’s at least a little plausible deniablity in claims like this, or that “science is on their side” if they were simply uninformed about the world they live in, never actually looking into what laws exist, what science actually says, and never actually meeting a trans person or even seeing a picture of one of us. I’m talking really bold lies here. Like wholecloth fabricating a story that a convicted murder was trans, including anecdotes about wigs dresses and a planned name change, in a major newspaper. Or to cite an old favorite of mine, the time a pack of bigots walked up to a crowd of people peacefully picketing a transphobic legal proposal, started roughing them up and taking closeup photos of members of the crowd to stalk online when they got home, got sufficiently riled up for one to straight up assault an innocent person half her size, filmed the whole thing, uploaded it to youtube, and used stills of that assault as acomanying photos when they went home to write articles about the assailant being a “grandmother” attacked by rowdy trans women. And yes, they did monkey’s paw my wish to see that specific image on newspapers. Interesting side note, when it came to real public light that J.K. Rowling endorsed this sort of hatred, it was because she accidentally pasted some profanity laden rambling about how the imagined moral character of the other party in that incident, years after the fact, into a post praising a child’s fan art of her work.

To be a little less niche, transphobes can’t get enough of spreading the lie that the young fellow in this photo is a girl. Specifically a trans girl, providing proof that all their scaremongering about the dastardly threat of trans girls in competitive sports has finally come to pass.

To be fully clear, that’s a man (or a boy if you want to split hairs about him being 17 in that photo). Mack Beggs. A rather insidious choice for this sort of story, considering the actual context for that photo. See, Beggs attended high school in Texas, during a (still ongoing as I write this) period wherein that particular state had caved to this exact sort of propaganda, and in order to head off a wholly imagined wave of trans girls competing on girls’ sports teams, and enacted a law mandating that in all such competitions must compete under whatever gender is stated on their birth certificates. And as it happens, the first, and to my knowledge ONLY time this has come up was with Beggs here, who again, is a man, as no one with a grip on reality could argue against, has “female” on his birth certificate. Which is another way of saying he is a trans man. The guys in the same boat as trans women who we talk about a whole hell of a lot less because their existence is extremely inconvenient to the majority of transphobic propaganda. Case in point. And this is all information it is really impossible to come across if you’re coming across this photo in any sort of respectable source. Take this story, which is as unambiguous about this as you can get. And yet, in the very comments section of that story, there they are. Carrying on like this story about a trans guy, forced by a transphobic law to compete as a girl, which he absolutely did not want, and received horrific threats over, using phrases like “female to male” and bringing up that he was assigned female at birth and is on testosterone-based HRT, is about a trans woman cheating the system. Or to quote word for word, “Now also transgender female want to be male also compete in female sport. biological born“ That’s not “being confused,” that’s standing next to you in a white desert and complaining about being adrift in a black ocean, bald-faced, not even trying to be convincing just make a power play, lying through one’s teeth.

I could spend this whole article on just this point. Lying about who they are, various people’s falsified credentials, whole websites full of “anonymous parents of children who think they’re trans” turning out to be one single woman documenting the abuse of her very much trans son, or of course the people behind the whole “bathroom bill” panic candidly admitting it was all based on utter fiction. I do have other points to cover though.

Transphobes are firmly entrenched in the media.

It is extremely difficult to find oneself in a position of having to explain to people that a particular group of people is effectively in control of press outlets, as that is rather classically a claim conspiracy theorists absolutely love to toss around at various marginalized groups (including trans people hilariously enough, but of course the most common and lingering version of this is the antisemitic variant). I really can’t get around it here though. Specifically in the U.K., you honestly can say that transphobes control the media. I already touched on this with the assault case I mentioned above and the fabricated story about the murderer, but this is a pretty well-documented situation. I mean, even The Guardian calls out The Guardian on this, and that’s the outlet that gets the most attention because it’s the one with the most otherwise respected name, but every paper in the country has been running transphobic propaganda pieces on a weekly if not daily basis for years now, and while they do get reprimanded by watchdog groups and have mass walk-outs over the worst of it, it’s not like there’s some governing body with the authority to step in about it. Meanwhile the BBC is constantly inviting diehard zealots like Graham Linehan to news programs where he compares being trans to being a nazi, and hosting debates where someone just sits down and repeatedly chants the word “penis” at a trans woman.

Things are better in the rest of the world, but we still have right-wing creeps like Jesse Singal both writing horrific propaganda pieces (we’ll get back to that one) and blackballing trans writers out of covering trans issues ourselves (and personally stalking the hell out of those of us who try). We’ve got our Joe Rogans and Tucker Carlsons out there (no way in hell I’m linking videos here, have a real information link and a still).

The line between diehard transphobes and straight-up nazis basically does not exist.

What even is there to say here? You can easily poke around havens for nazi activity for yourself and compare the particular unique vocabulary used there to the primary bastion of anti-trans hate speech on the internet (the “feminism” section of what was originally a site for parenting tips before violent fascists took the forums over) or just peruse the follows of the thousands of people I’ve blocked on social media and see if you can sort out a clear division in the networks of channers with frog avatars and the accounts with names like GoodieXXrealwoman, or you can read up on Gab and Spinster, the two twitter alternatives that are just different portals to the same server, set up by the same guy. Maybe do some research into “the LGB Alliance,” or WoLF but any way you slice it the only real difference to be found is the general purpose nazis take a little time off now and then to watch borderline pedophilic anime and the really dedicated transphobes think to use language that sounds vaguely well-educated and left-leaning. I mean, this came from the “feminist” side of the fence:

And not to belabor the point here, but the ones claiming to be a bunch of “feminist mums” sure do let the mask slip any time they’re confronted with the fact that “women” includes black women, and oh just have a whole thread about all the weird conspiratory theories these people have about how trans people’s whole existence is some sort of Jewish plot for world domination. I swear a few months ago they were all passing around a story about some bank having an above average number of trans employees and they were all just “and we all know who controls the banks, right?” about it.

Transphobes endorse an awful lot of people who are openly pro-pedophila.

This is the part where I am really loath to link the many many specific examples I have on hand. Or to talk about this at all for reasons of good taste. Or, for that matter, to talk about this in a tumblr post when there’s an ongoing problem of people with backgrounds strongly tied to this site making baseless accusations of pedophilia against every queer person they can find, so let me be very clear just what I’m talking about while avoiding anything too graphic.

That’s James Cantor. Transphobes love him for being one of the closest things they have to a scientist on their side. And I am featuring him in a screenshot here showing that he is followed by current queen of the transphobes J.K. Rowling, while speaking to both another big name in transphobic circles, Debra Soh, and based on their names, what I’m guessing is at least one straight-up nazi. And in case you think “the P” he’s talking about adding to LGBT (or “GLBT” as weird anti-queer bigots who also have issues with women often write it) might stand for “poly” or “pan” he’s all too happy to clarify that.

This is the entire thrust of Cantor’s work and life. He is the world’s biggest pedophile rights advocate. He wants it declassified as a mental disorder, all stigma on it removed, and tirelessly pushes forward the idea that the majority of.. people who feel compelled to sexually assault children are good people who present no potential harm to anyone and should in fact be lauded.

I am not generally one to claim that someone with a PhD is spewing out questionable garbage with regard to their field, but the reason I am aware of Cantor at all is that other transphobes keep trying to hold up a particular post on his blog as "a study” (which it is not) that offers “proof” (in the form of a blurry jpeg of basically some random numbers) of some ridiculous quackery about how trans kids will “grow out of it” if exposed to conversion therapy (another way of saying torture), which Cantor himself seems to be pushing, so I am somewhat skeptical of his academic chops. And I am, of course, REALLY suspicious that all these other bigots gravitate to him purely because they’re that desperate to find anyone with a PhD in anything that backs them up against literally every scientist in a relative field, to the point that they merely forgive his particular advocacy they are plainly all aware of, particularly when such a common fig leaf used by transphobes is “keeping children safe from sexual deviants.”

And of course, Cantor is most often invoked when coming to the defense of Kenneth Zucker. This Kenneth Zucker.

Those are separate papers. Zucker isn’t controversial though for organizing panels to discuss how attractive people agree small children are (at least not exclusively). Mostly, he’s known for running a conversion therapy center which subjected gay and trans children to various sorts of torture in an effort to “fix” them, which at least for those trans "patients” I have spoken with involved a fair amount of having them strip completely naked and talking a lot about their genitals.

Zucker is something of a controversial figure with the transphobic scene, as they are extremely on board with his sexual torture of queer children, but he does actual work (for some value of the term) involving trans people and thus is not able to commit as fully as they would prefer to making life horrible for trans people, due to a professional obligation to acknowledge reality now and then. As an aside, the similarly positioned Ray Blanchard, while not to my knowledge particularly interested in the attractiveness of children, lives in a similar purgatory of trying to reconcile his career, bigotry, and sexual hangups, yielding compromises like this:

Of course, that’s just looking at the straws transphobes grasp at when looking for scientific credibility. Real leaders of the movement include Germaine Greer, author of The Beautiful Boy, which is about what you are afraid it might be, and features a very young child in a cover feature he did not consent to posing for. Or Julie Bindel, who among other things is rather infamous for writing whole articles on subjects like whether a teenage girl she came across maybe has a huge penis you can totally see if you really squint at her skirt. Again, I will not share a link to go along with that one.

Transphobes terrorize and attempt to defund charities and other unambiguously good organizations.

Graham Linehan, previously best known for cowriting some sitcoms and possibly spending a year angling to get into my pants so awkwardly I didn’t pick up on it is now best known for trying to pull the plug on a children’s charity, in a story that somehow also involves Donkey Kong. Well, and the interview about nazis. And possibly the other interview about “defending me from nazis” until it got into his head that I might not be as young and hot as he imagined. Rather not link to a far right extremist youtube channel though.

There’s also a current effort to replace Stonewall (an organization named after the location where a pair of trans women kicked off a riot which is generally agreed to be the start of the LGBT+ rights movement) as the UK’s primary LGBT+ rights organization with the “LGB Alliance.” The hate group mentioned above, with the skull face and the rifle. Closest I can find to an article on that effort on short notice that isn’t propaganda.

Transphobes paper areas in truly disgusting propaganda.

I don’t want to directly link to grown adults skulking around children’s playgrounds and bathrooms plastering surfaces with mass printed stickers of crudely drawn penises, but would encourage you to read this very long post, being sure to load all the images, to really understand how deeply strange this behavior gets.

Finally, I cannot stress this enough, this really extreme behavior I’m citing, and the specific people involved in the examples I’m giving, these aren’t random cranks on the fringe of things. The people going on televised panel discussions, writing up news stories, and testifying before lawmakers in efforts to pass horrifically discriminatory if not literally life-endangering laws (there is a major ongoing effort to legally end all medical care for trans people, and I don’t just mean care directly relating to being trans) are literally the same people involved in the sexualization of children, nazi collaborations, and roving gangs assaulting people in the street. At a bare minimum I urge people, when booking guests and handing out writing contracts, to do background checks and see if they’re platforming actual terrorists. If we could actually bring legal consequences to bear against the worst of this, that would be great too. As things stand though, the whole world is just consistently citing a bunch of racist, woman-hating, serial liars with no real credentials, and questionable attitudes towards the sexual abuse of children, as “trusted experts” and refusing to seat actual trans people or people who have legitimately committed lifetimes to academic and practical work with trans people any seats at the table.

[hollanderfangirl]

Let me go |Harry Holland|

Pairing: Harry Holland x Therapist! Reader

A/N: so I'm not a therapist and I've never been to therapy, well if you don't consider the sessions with my psychology teacher. All of what I've written comes from what I've learnt in psychology class, reading books and listening to other people's experiences.

Warnings: talk about death, panic attack and it's just really sad

Word count: 3.3k, this is my longest fic yet :)

(Sorry for the shitty moodboard I just had to post this fic or I would have lost my mind)

Harry Holland walked through the halls of the clinic, not really sure why he was here. Well he knew why he had come to see a therapist but he wondered how he put himself in this situation. He had been locking himself inside a glass cave built out of hopelessness for months, his friends and family were greatly concerned about him but he refused to take any help. He had always been stubborn, he never asked for anybody's help. He hated the look of pity on people's faces. He hated people showing him sympathy. He was more than this. He didn't need anybody. He can pull himself together, he just needed time.

But it wasn't helping. Burying your feelings in has never helped anybody. Putting on a smile everyday in front of people and crying himself to sleep, Harry found it more and more difficult. His mum had sensed it and told him to go and see a doctor. He had resisted it at first. 

"Please do it for me, Harry. I cannot see you like this, at least for my satisfaction," Nikki had said. "Just go for a trial session and if you like it then you can continue," but of course he wasn't going to continue. 

Now as he stood in front of the receptionist, he was reconsidering his decision. 

"Yes, do you have an appointment, sir?" 

"Huh?" he seemed lost. "Yeah..yeah" 

"Just wait here, I'll inform Dr Y/l/n" 

"Your know what, cancel the appointment. I- I don't need help" 

"Oh but this is just a trial, Mr Holland" 

"Yeah but I don't-" the receptionist was already at the door, muttering something to the woman inside. 

You step outside to see a curly headed man, he looked pleasant but his eyes looked sad. Those were the eyes of a person who had seen immense grief, someone who had been miserable for a long long time. 

"I'm sorry but I don't need therapy… I didn't realise this before, I -I shouldn't have come here" 

"Oh Mr Holland, this is just a trial right? Let's just have some coffee. This isn't therapy yet" you smile at him. 

"No I really-" 

"Okay then, give me half an hour. If you still feel the same way, then you can leave. Half an hour is all I want from you, Mr Holland" 

"Alright" 

You lead him into your chamber, closing the door behind you. He sits down on a couch across from you, your desk separating you both. The first step of therapy- resistance. People always resist therapy at first, they feel like they don't need the help or maybe seeking help makes them weak. They don't feel like opening up to a complete stranger. How can they? How can they open up their most vulnerable state to a person who they barely know? But slowly and steadily, a rapport is made. A therapist has to be very careful and empathetic. They have to be trusting. Someone who people can turn to. Someone who they can relate to. Someone who understands them. Someone who would just listen. 

"So, your mother sent you here. Right, Mr Holland?" 

"Just- just call me Harry" 

"Okay then Harry, tell me" 

"What do you want me to tell you?" 

"Everything. Start from the beginning" 

"Well I- do you… do you really think I would-" he hesitates. "Who do you think you are? Why do you think I should pay you to listen to my goddamn life story here?" 

"You're not here to tell me your life story," you say politely. "I'm here to help you and I can do that only if you would let me" 

"Well guess what? You cannot help me, I knew I was wasting my time," he gets up and starts to walk away. 

"I asked for half an hour of your time, Harry" 

"Well I don't fucking care" 

"Harry, please listen to me. All I ask is half an hour" 

Little did he know, this half an hour was going to change his life. 

Something about your tone made him stay. He sat back down on the couch, turning away from you. 

"Okay, so if you're not going to talk, I will," you sigh. "So, you have suffered a great loss, someone you loved dearly?" 

"Yes," he still didn't look you in the eye. 

"Who was it?" 

"My…my friend. Girlfriend" 

"And when did this happen?" 

"A year ago" 

"How have you been holding up?" 

He thought of giving another vague answer. How the fuck do you think I'm holding up? I'm fucking dying every single day. 

"Uh- it's been a little better, I guess. It's not as bad as it used to be" 

"Well that's a start. And do you still think about her?" 

Every goddamn minute, lady. What do you want from me? "Yeah sometimes" 

"And how have you been sleeping?" 

I can't sleep. I haven't slept properly for months. If I sleep I see her coming back to me. "Alright I guess" 

This wasn't going anywhere. You thought of recommending him another doctor but something about him charmed you. He was a man who should have been living a great life but his grief was tearing him apart. You had to help him. You felt a strong connection to him, you felt determined. No, I have to help him. I just have to.

"Harry, do you feel like you're responsible for your girlfriend's death?" it was a straightforward question, you had been trying to get something out of him but he wasn't ready to. 

He looked at you dead in the eye, yet could not get any words out. You could sense the anger building up inside him but it wasn't projected at you, he was angry with himself. 

"I….. " he took a few deep breaths, clenching his hands into fists. "Yes" 

"Why is that so?" 

"Fucking hell! Are you for real? She died, okay? And I wasn't there… I wasn't there.. " he was tearing up. "I should have been the one to die! Not her! Not anybody! Everyone just leaves me in the end!" he was full on shouting, letting out everything he had been holding inside himself for a whole year. He had tears in his eyes.

You handed him a box of tissues and he was gasping for breath. When he had calmed down, you both sat in silence for a few minutes. 

"You know, Harry, my friend died the day we had a fight. She was my best friend. I knew her ever since we were three. It was a silly argument. We should not have fought about it. But we did and I told her I wished she would just go away… and then she did" it was painful for you to remember this, but time does heal everything. 

"I'm sorry," his voice was low. "And I'm sorry for all those things I said" 

"No it's alright, that's what you're here for. And besides, it's nothing compared to your loss, Harry" 

"No. It- it's not a competition. Suffering is not a competition. It must've been really hard for you, Dr y/l/n," this was the first time he had addressed you. 

"Call me y/n," you smile at him. "And yeah that's very true. We often blame ourselves, you know, it's very common. We cannot be angry at them so we get angry with ourselves. Even though we know deep in our hearts that there was nothing we could have done" 

There was a long silence. 

"She went out for a drive, that bastard drunk driver," he spoke up. "And I was just resting. She asked me so many times to join her but I wanted to sleep" 

You nod at him and he continued. "That's…the reason I'm not able to sleep. Every night I close my eyes, I think I'll wake up to that phone call" 

"Well yes I don't blame you, our brains sometimes don't process things that come as a shock. And then it just keeps on haunting us forever. Do you believe in life after death, Harry?" 

"Well I don't know what to believe" 

"Have you- felt her? After she was gone?" 

"You'll think I'm crazy" 

"I'm a therapist, it'll take you much more than that to convince me you're crazy" 

"I sometimes talk to her. Like what would she think about this particular situation. Or just that I miss her so much. I don't get any responses but I just try to think like her?" 

"Yeah, that's quite normal actually. People think they need to 'get over' someone's death. But that's not true. You can never really get over something like death" 

"And what does getting over even mean? Like you just forget them? Moving on with your life just means that you think they were never a part of it" 

"Well you're both right and wrong. Yes we must remember our loved ones who are not with us anymore but at the same time, we have to let them go" 

"How? It's too painful" 

"I know. But do you believe in the concept of souls, Harry?" 

"Yeah I mean," he shrugs. 

"The soul is considered to be immortal. And groups of souls tend to travel together. Even if you don't know it, some way, somehow, they're always with us" 

He says nothing but his eyes looked softer now. 

"And just think about it, think of her seeing you like this. Do you think she could have handled you being so miserable?" 

"She would have been heartbroken" 

"Exactly. So do it for her, for yourself. For both of you to feel peace again" 

"Yeah" 

You look at your watch. Half an hour was up. 

"So, Harry. Your half an hour is up. Is there anything else?" 

"Yes, um we can talk about it in our next session?" 

You smile at him. "Of course" 

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

After that one half an hour session, Harry was a changed man. He was still mourning, he was still miserable but he had hope. For the first time in a long time, he thought he could actually go on with his life, he could finally feel peace.

The week went by smoothly. Harry tried to make himself busy, by surrounding himself with people and always working. He was still getting nightmares but he was determined to sleep. He was sleeping light, afraid of what deep sleep might show him.

Meanwhile your life was exactly the same, you went on with your day treating people, talking, helping them. You loved your job, you loved the sense of satisfaction you got after patients they told you they were finally better. Every person was a challenge, and you knew there was a gem hidden inside every one of them. All of them had immense potential but life hadn't been kind to them. You felt disturbed and it broke your heart to see people hurting. And you would do anything to make it better for them. To help them.

You couldn’t keep Harry out of your mind. You were thinking about him all day long, awaiting your next session with him. What if he cancels? What can I do if he does? Why am I thinking about him? He had this air around him, a magnetic pull, which was pulling your closer and closer towards him. And why is he so damn attractive? No I should not think about him that way. It was the first and foremost rule of your profession. Never get emotionally attached with your clients. It was a professional relationship and must remain that way.

When he came into your office the following week, you could sense the change in him. You felt proud that a single session made such a difference. There was no arrogance in him, he didn’t seem angry anymore. He was calm and better.

“So, Harry. How was your week?”

“It was good, I’ve been shooting my new short film and it’s coming out to be okay so far”

“Alright and how have you been sleeping?”

“Not that good to be honest. I still get dreams, uh bad dreams”

“What do you see in these dreams?”

“I see the accident scene….again and again, it’s the same dream. Sometimes I see her, she talks to me and all that”

“Hmm and have you talked to your family? Your friends?”

“Yeah I talked to my mum…and my brother”

“What did they say?”

“They said they are here for me and will always love me”

“Yes and I don’t doubt that, Harry. You have a lot of people in your life who love and support you. Embrace that”

The session went by smoothly, he opened up to you about his life, everything about the girl he loved so much. About his family, his career. You found yourself staring at him, taking glances at his hands which he constantly moved while he talked. You noticed he was shaking his leg the whole time. Stop staring, y/n.

Wow she’s so beautiful. And thoughtful. And funny and understanding. What am I doing? She’s my therapist….but…why couldn’t I have met her before? Why didn’t I meet her when I was normal? Would things have been different? But then again, I would have never met her if I was normal.

Things seemed to get better, as the weeks progressed, Harry was becoming more and more like his old self again. But there was a feeling of regret, he thought this was wrong as if he were forgetting her. But you were there to guide him, to tell him that this is what life is. It never stops. No matter what happens, you will heal. Someday, sometime. And each day we progress towards it.

And then it happened. The call came at 1 am in the morning. You were sleeping and you were tired, you had been working all day and just needed some rest. You wouldn't have picked the call up but something told you it was important. That you should pick it up.

“Hello?” you yawn.

You just hear muffled breathing for a few seconds.

“Hello? Who is it?”

“It…it’s me…Harry”

“Harry, what’s wrong?” you thought what could have happened at this time of the night.

“I just- can you-” he sounded like he was choking.

“Harry what’s wrong, you’re scaring me”

“I… can’t… breathe,” you hear him sobbing. ”I had… that… dream, I feel like I’m…going to…die”

“Harry, listen to me. You will be okay. Yeah? Just take deep breaths and sit tight. I’m coming to you”

You search through his file to look for his address. When you find it, you rush through the front door and drive to his house. You were on the phone with him the whole drive.

“Just keep breathing, Harry. Deep breaths, okay?”

To your surprise, the front door was unlocked. It looked like he had gone out into the street in the middle of the night. You search through rooms to find him, and you see him curled into a ball at the corner of a king size bed. You touch his shoulder and he flinches.

“Hey, hey it’s just me. It’s alright”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” he was crying, with the tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes looked small and they looked red from the lack of sleep and of tears.

“It’s alright, Harry. Just come here, it’ll be alright,” you pull him towards yourself him and he buries his face into your chest and you held him, stroking his hair and telling him it will be alright.

“That’s it. Let it out, Harry. It’s okay to cry”

You both stayed like that for another 15 minutes. He couldn’t stop crying and you knew he needed that. He had been holding everything in for so long and it just came out like an explosion tonight. You wiped his tears and made him meditate for a few minutes.

He fell asleep and you stayed up all night, looking at him. He looked so innocent while he slept, and cute too, you thought hiding a blush, even though nobody was there to look at you.

That night, Harry finally felt at peace. He was finally able to sleep. He had no nightmares, just a peaceful dream. He saw his girlfriend, running away from him in a white dress with her hair flowing in the wind.

Please don’t leave me, darling. I love you.

I know you do Harry, but you must let me go. I will always be with you. I will always love you. It is time you start caring about yourself, you must let me go. It is time.

No! don’t leave me!

And he woke up. Something about this dream told him that she was right. It was time. He was finally ready to let her go. For both of their sakes.

He went down to find you sleeping on the couch. He was hesitant at his thoughts but deep down he knew he was falling for you. Am I just using her to cope with my loss? Or do I really love her?

You opened your eyes, looking at Harry sitting on the ground, pushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?”

“Better. Really really better. I- I don’t know how to thank you, y/n and I’m so sorry”

“Hey it’s alright, and I’m glad I could help,” you smile. “I should go now, I have to get to work”

“Let me make breakfast and let me drive you to your house”

“Oh no it’s okay I can-”

“I owe this much to you, y/n. Let me”

“Okay”

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

It wasn’t until another week when Harry had his next session. You had been thinking about him all the time, you were confused, it wasn’t supposed to go this way. But he….who am I kidding I’m in love with him.

When he walked through the door on a Thursday morning next week, he looked healthy and happier than ever. You felt a sense of happiness yourself, therapy is always beneficial to both the patient and the therapist. Every person is a deep universe, their thoughts, experiences, pain, joy, everything. Empathising with clients is a great learning experience, it becomes a part your personality. It becomes a part of you.

“Hey y/n”

“Hi Harry”

“So my week as been as it’s always and I’ve been feeling a lot better ever since that day…and that dream” he had told you about the dream he had the night you watched him sleep. He seemed to completely change after that, he let go of the intense emotions he had been carrying around.

“That’s very good and you’ve made a lot of progress since our first meeting”

“Yeah…I have”

The session went on as usual, he talked about everything that happened, he started fighting with his brothers again, which he hadn’t done in a long time and even though they were pissed off at him, they were happy to have him back.

“Um Harry,” you say at the end of the session. “I think-” you try to choose your words correctly. “I think it’s about time you start seeing another therapist, yeah?”

You see his face drop. “wh-why? I’m doing so much better, is..is it because of that night? I’m so sorry y/n”

“No it’s not that. You and I both know what’s happening between us, it’s wrong for a therapist to get emotionally attached with her patient. I’m sorry, Harry”

“So you’re saying that you’re becoming emotionally attached with me?”

“I..I’m-“

“It’s alright. I understand y/n”

“Yes, thank you. This has been great”

“So… now that you’re not my therapist, can I meet you for coffee this evening?”

“Harry-“

“Half an hour, Dr y/l/n. Just give me half an hour of your time, if you still feel the same way, I’ll never bother you again”

“Uh-" you hesitate. You knew you should have said no. You were going to say no. Yet the words which came out of your mouth were “Okay then, it’s a date”

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

Taglist:

@mischiefmanaged011 @notsosmexy @perspectiveparker @justanothermarvelmaniac @amorhollands @thisetaernallove @halfblood-princess-505 @spidey-reids-2003 @peterspideysstuff @musicalkeys @theliterarymess @ilarbu @hollands-weasley @tombob2005 @tommysparker @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @parkerpeter24 @more-like-reyna @hollandbroz-n-haz @aqiise

[futurewriter2000]

More than Family - pt. 2

XX

You had entered the odd, magical entrance and found yourself walking down the hall. You heard him saying something behind you but you just ignored him, walking into the large living room and marvelling at the sharp taste of his family. 

“This looks- wow.” you turned around beaming at him as he only gave you a stern look. 

“You’re only here until Tonks comes back with a new wand for me.” he crossed his arms and went to sit down on the arm chair. “And here is how this is going to go-”

“Tonks?” you turned around, cutting him off and walking around the room. “Is she your wife or something?” you smiled, knowing he must not be married because the whole house screamed ‘loner’ at you. 

“No- no! She’s my cousin.”

“Oh, so she must be my cousin too.” you turned around to him, finding his eyes go wide then relax as you jumped to the black leather sofa and plopped yourself down. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“You won’t be- she’s not your-” he couldn’t even start nor finish his thoughts. “Look.” he sighed, shaking his head. “Some people will be coming soon and you will have to be gone by then.”

You felt your throat go sore as you heard him say that. Your fingers grabbed the edge of the couch and squeezed it. “Oh...” you let out subconsciously, trying to force yourself to smile. 

“So... you don’t even want to make sure?” you stood up, walking away and forcing a smile that was difficult to produce. “That you have a child in this world, a daughter that put her ass on the line to find you?” your tone started to lower itself as anger kept bubbling too fast for you to process. 

“Look, kid-”

“No, it’s fine.” you cut him off again, starting to laugh but feeling yourself cry at the same time. You hadn’t even noticed your eyes started to water until he couldn’t look at you. “Well, if you’re going to get rid of me like a piece of trash than I might as well tell you how I feel- it’s not like you’re gonna poof me away anyway.” you pursed your lips together, waiting for him to react but he only looked up at you with guilt. “No. You don’t deserve to know how I feel! You only deserve to be told that you are a coward! An arrogant coward who wouldn’t even give me a chance!” you grabbed the rucksack from the sofa and slung it over your shoulder. “A coward. I hope you are not my father. Because having a father like you would bring me to shame.” you snarled at him, feeling tears fall down your cheeks and storming off. 

You were running down the hall, sobs escaping your mouth as you couldn’t help yourself but feel pathetic and naive to come here- to even try- to-

“OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR!” you shouted as you realised the door wouldn’t budge. “I SWEAR I WILL KNOCK IT DOWN!” you continued as you shook the doorknob, glaring back at the empty hall then back at the door. “YOU GAVE ME NO CHOICE!” you shouted, starting to back away and falling over something small. 

“Mudblood, stain and shame-” you heard someone mutter in front of you and as you opened your eyes to see who it was your eyes went wide and you screamed- screamed as loud as you could. The creatures large ears bent over and he covered them with its hands, screaming as well. 

And with that much screaming, someone else started to scream from the stairs; this time a woman’s voice, cursing as her voice boomed through the whole house.

“EVERYBODY SHUT THE HELL UP!” Sirius shouted as he stormed to the hall, picking you up with one arm and throwing you on his feet. 

You jumped away from the small creature as it jumped away from you. You hid behind Sirius and pushed him forward to it. “What the hell is that?!”

“I told you to stay away from here, you filthy elf!” he kicked Kreacher into another room, letting him curse at him and calling him a all sorts of names. Sirius then turned to you and pushed you back to the living room, ordering you to stay there. 

But you didn’t listen. You followed him to the staircase and talking to the portrait, trying to cover it up but couldn’t due to the lack of his wand. The woman kept cursing at him and he cursed back at her, both shouting at each other. 

Yet as much as the moving portrait and your encounter with the creature with large eyes freaked you out, you found that woman extremely familiar. You walked even forward, coming into her sight. 

As she had seen you, she immediately shut her mouth and stared at you with wide, blazing eyes. “You!” she growled loudly, like a hungry, furious wolf. 

Sirius stared at the two of you, shocked by the sudden situation that accured. 

“You shouldn’t be here! You filthy stain on our family tree-” she continued but before she could finish, Sirius had covered her up and made her shut up. 

He took time to process, staring at you with empty eyes as you did the same, trying to put pieces together. 

You knew that woman. The question was; from where? 

Before you even realised, he was pulling you by the arm and into the living room, his eye twitching a bit. You sat down, he paced in front of you. 

If it wouldn’t for your thoughts trying to remember that woman, you could practically hear his own thoughts screaming. “She-” he pointed at you, then turned back to pacing. “How does she-?”

Words kept popping into his head, ideas, thoughts, all of them; from bad to worse.

“She knows you.” he finally sat down on the armchair in front of you, leaning over his knees and placing his hands under his chin. “How does she know you?” he finally looked up at you, eyes blazing just as her’s. 

“I-” you looked down, trying to think. “I can’t remember right but-” you looked up at him, confused and still a bit terrified by everything that you were experiencing. “When I was a kid, she and this man came over and I remember her because she was really mean to me.” you kept looking down, finally remembering. “And I don’t know but she continued to look at me with those same resentful eyes. The man though- he was looking at me more softly but he didn’t say a thing-” you said as you looked up at Sirius. “He had your eyes.” 

He didn’t budge but you could see something flash in his eyes. “What did they do?”

“I don’t know. I just remember my mum telling them to make it go away.”

“Make what go away?” 

“I don’t know- I was seven! I was just a kid!”

“Seven?” Sirius asked, this time more surprised. His eyes softened from that tortuous glare. You could see his brain overthinking, his eyes changing emotions like a light switch. The he turned back to you and asked. “What else can you remember?”

“I was just sitting there. Mum and that woman were talking but the man was just staring at me and then the woman ordered him to take me away and he did. He took me to another room and he kept telling me about his two children.” you tried to remember what he had said. “He told me something about his youngest being purely academic meanwhile the oldest was always too much to handle.”

Sirius felt something heavy on his heart but he swallowed it. “What else did he say?”

“He asked if I like tomatoes?” you furrowed your eyebrows, smiling to yourself. 

“And what did you say?” he asked impatiently, his leg starting to jump.

“I said that tomatoes give me a stomach ache.” you smiled, not even seeing Sirius jaw fall to the floor. “He was nice to me. He had much of a softer look than his wife. Kept giving me this odd look-”

“Odd how?”

“Like-” you looked up at him. “- like he’s saying goodbye but not really wanting to.” 

Sirius kept staring at you and you knew you had to ask. “Was he your dad? And your mum?” 

Sirius looked away, gritting his teeth with anger though his eyes told you a completely different story. “My father was never as soft as you described him.” 

“Sometimes I saw him watching me- when I left school.” you said and Sirius looked at me. “He never approached me but he was there. I saw him and then all of a sudden he was gone.” you lowered your head. “I knew he died but I don’t know... he bought me presents each year for my birthday and I just knew it was from him.”

“How?”

“Just how the wrap paper smelled- like men’s cologne- apple but smoky in a way. “ you smiled. “He was the only one who bought me gifts for my birthday.” you said as you touched the chain around your neck, not pulling the necklace out but just touching it gently. 

Sirius noticed. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing at your necklace. 

You looked down and pulled it out; a necklace with a ring on. “It was his last gift to me. He wrote a tiny note, saying to keep it safe.” you smiled. “He even put a smiley face on it.” you laughed. 

Sirius didn’t. He couldn’t laugh, not when that ring was burning into his soul. 

Your ring was his ring- the ring he left the night he ran away. 

[ladyhallen]

The Sentient House and Alice

Three weeks before the elections, Alice woke up with the nagging need to move to her grandmother’s house.

It was a nice house, but simply too large for one family to have. Just simply, impossible large. Alice had once tried to catalogue all the rooms in the house but just lost count. It was as if the house itself didn’t like to be measured.

Alice got used to inanimate objects having opinions of their own. It wasn’t so bad and at least if you treated them right, they wouldn’t object to being used. It was a side effect of having taken too strongly from her grandmother.

She had a feeling that nagging need to move into the house was another quirk of her blood. Her mother never could explain it properly, other than knowing more than people.

So, with just that urge, Alice packed up her bags for a weeks clothing, all her documentation that labelled her as having something extra and moved out of her tiny apartment.

Her landlord, a man with cat-yellow eyes, sighed.

“Must be something important, if you have to do it without any prior notice,” he murmured. He was one of the few people who knew about her. Being part of the Other community, people often knew everyone else. Mainly for self-defense.

“I don’t know if it’s a calling,” Alice said. “But…there’s a need? I don’t know. A need to hide.”

The landlords eyes were wide. “Alright. I’ll spread the word.”

Alice wished he wouldn’t. While there would be some people who would appreciate the warning, there would also be others who didn’t like false alarms.

“Alice, you’ve never actually given me false alarms before,” he reminded her. “Now, stop being modest and get moving.”

Alice nodded, feeling a little bit better. “Just remember, I’m not a Seer,” she repeated, feeling the need to reiterate things.

“Yeah, you just know.”

Alice gave up.

..

The house was situated in the middle of the city. It was a large, sprawling land bracketed by fruit trees and large, rustling grass. Even if it was in the middle of the city, the trees were tall enough and thick enough to block sound and make it seem isolated.

In the middle of it all was the house.

Wreathed in spells, the windows blurred as though it was moving. It made measuring things difficult. If Alice didn’t already know that the house was sentient, she would have believed it after spending a night inside. The bathroom tended to rearrange itself according to how she liked it.

“I’m here, I’m home,” she called, opening the door that didn’t even pretend to be locked. It swung invitingly open, like it had just been closed and not closed for a good twenty years. “Stop calling, I’m here.”

The chandelier flickered and turned on.

“What’s the problem?”

The lights turned on, one by one until Alice could clearly see what was lit and what wasn’t. The house was leading her to the library and she followed, leaving her bag on the sofa by the fireplace.

It was clearly agitated and it showed. By the time Alice reached the library on the second floor, the lights blazed.

On the bookstand by the door, a book was open and being flicked to and fro by the wind. She took the hint and bent close.

“Of all the creatures that witches spent battling,” she read aloud. “Demons are the worst. Banished to the Otherworld by the Coven of Witches in the year 1905 after the disaster that was the Spanish Influenza. They are characterized by their yellow eyes and the scent of sulfur that follows them. They also have an aversion to cats.”

Alice breathed deep, trying not to panic.

“But,” she whispered. “The UCO just declared demons to be a myth. If the Coven of Witches did this and then scattered afterwards, that leaves a mark on the World. Why would the UCO declare demons to be a myth?”

Alice had no answer and the house rattled around her in agitation.

..

Since the house was clearly averse to letting her leave the house – as evidenced by the doorknob that wouldn’t twist open and the trees that suddenly blocked her way outside the gates – Alice made herself at home.

She picked a bedroom, almost jumped out of her skin when she found the drawers to be full of clothes her size and even felt her eyebrows climbing when she saw the pantry overflowing with food.

Evidently, it had prepared itself for her arrival.

“Thank you, that’s very thoughtful,” she said.

The windows preened.

Half-forgotten lessons with her grandmother resurfaced and Alice ended up baking cookies. The scent wafted up to the third floor and the house actually felt lived in. She knew the house appreciated it by the bubble bath it drew up when she headed for bed.

..

On Alice’s third day, when she was arguing with the house on whether she could go outside and get some other supplies, the doorbell rang.

She paused in the act of wiping the glasses and glared at the nearest mirror. “This discussion is not yet finished,” she declared.

Opening the door, she found herself face to face with a petite woman, glossy wings protruding from her back and an energetic smile.

“Hi!” the half-fairy greeted. Alice knew she was half since her skin wasn’t green. “I saw your ad in the internet and wondered if you were still hiring? I’m a good cook and can work around substitutes in case of allergies and Other problems.” Alice blinked at her. The woman didn’t even pause. “I can also bake and clean and sew. So anything is really fine. I just need a place to stay. The cats are all saying their fur is standing up and – “

“Wait, wait, just stop,” Alice said, trying not to shout. Fairies didn’t like sudden loud noises. “Why are you here?”

The woman looked bewildered. “You posted an ad in the internet asking about housekeeping.”

Alice sighed and pulled the woman inside. Once they were seated inside the kitchen, Alice glared at the mirror. “You posted that ad, didn’t you? I thought I told you not to do things like these without asking?”

In response, all the drawers in the kitchen, which had been obligingly opened once Alice took out the polishing rag, drew shut.

The half-fairy goggled. “The drawers just moved.” She stated carefully.

Alice sighed again. “It has a mind of its own. Most things do, when they spend enough time around me. And the house was likely the one who posted the advert too. Most probably, it convinced my laptop to do it. People,” she said loudly. “We have consent issues. Didn’t we have this discussion when I was fifteen?”

The woman laughed, a gay and infectious sound. “You must have some sorcerer blood! They’re the only ones I know that can do that, even by accident. So can I work here?”

Alice nodded. “Why do you want to work for food and lodging anyway?”

“But that’s just it,” she said seriously. “Anyone who has a drop of Other in them are hiding. Apparently, someone with Seer blood said to be careful or something.”

Alice had the feeling she could blame her old landlord for that. But…

“Wait, where did you find my advert?” she asked, feeling dread.

The woman obligingly rolled out a printed sheet and Alice felt blood drain from her face. “Is that Facebook? And the UCO page? And that…”

“The official chat room for the Other community,” she supplied. “I was really lucky to get here first. I think there’s going to be a lot more people coming here.”

Alice dropped her forehead to the table and she couldn’t even hurt herself since the table softened to avoid hurting her.

“Oh my god. What are you planning, you crazy house?” she muttered.

…

The half-fairy woman’s name was Susan and Alice set her to cooking or baking.

It was amazing to have conversation that actually talked back.

“This was your grandmother’s house?” Susan asked. “Wow, it’s amazing the UCO hasn’t seized this yet.”

Alice shrugged, trying to peel the apples. It was slow going since she didn’t particularly like holding anything sharp. “I think they tried?” she said. “I remember a year when Mum was going gray about grandmum. She and dad had a spectacular row about it.”

“It’s really well taken care of,” Susan said. “Especially the garden. I really like your trees. There’s something…different about them.”

Since Alice had seen them move and walk around, they definitely weren’t ordinary trees.

…

Alice’s next applicant was an elf, pointy ears and all.

She stared at the man when he volunteered to be the gardener.

“Pick a room,” she said. “There’s a lot.”

“My name is Samuel,” he said, a melodic trill in his voice. “Thank you for sheltering me.”

Alice blinked dazedly at him and then marched determinedly up her room to continue arguing with the laptop about taking down the adverts. She didn’t need more people.

…

Even with the advert being taken down, people still arrived in staggering, slow numbers.

After Samuel came three more elves. They all took care of the gardens. A werewolf and his mate, a half-lizard. They started a vegetable garden – which struck Alice as ironic since werewolves and lizards didn’t like vegetables and were as carnivorous as possible.

Then came the pixies who roosted in the Roof Gardens and only came down to steal some desserts. They did amazing cleaning and swept the house of any dust at night when everyone slept.

Two gnomes arrive, bringing with them one earth nymph and two tree nymphs. Alice, at this point sits down with Susan and tries not to pull out her hair.

“How am I supposed to feed an earth nymph and the gnomes?” Alice hissed at the fairy. “Aren’t gnomes vegetarian?”

Susan giggled. “It’s a good thing Erik and James have just harvested their first crops then. It’s like fate. You gather such amazing people, Alice.”

It definitely wasn’t Alice’s doing. She merely stared at all the people arriving and kept worrying.

Meanwhile, the elections draw closer.

….

The first time Alice sees a cat when she’s doing laundry, she dismissed it as unimportant. Its green eyes stare at her, and then seemingly finds her suitable.

The next time she sees a cat; there are four of them sunning themselves on a patch of sunlight in the library.

“Okay, this is definitely not normal,” she said with a frown.

The cats ignore her.

..

Two pairs of vampire mates arrive and seek sanctuary. Alice tried not to cringe when Erik eyes them up.

“Please don’t fight,” she pleaded. “The house will definitely get angry.”

At that statement, the pixies that were watching the proceedings by the roof beams, gasp.

The vampires paused and Erik goes still.

“I’m not fighting them,” Erik announced. “But I’m not going to make any promises if they mess with my vegetables.”

The vampires nod at him regally.

“What can you do?” Alice asked before someone else exploded. Vampires tend to make people irritated. “We can sort your books. And do repairs. We also brought with us some animals. We know you like fresh milk and we can get blood from the cows as well so it balances evenly for us.”

Alice tried not to laugh out loud. Vampires volunteering for animal husbandry. Vampires volunteering to be repair men.

….

Marcia, one of the most well-known in the Other community, shows up and it nails the coffin to how weird her life is.

Because Marcia, White Mage extraordinaire, just volunteered to be her librarian.

“I can also help raise defensive spells,” Marcia adds at Alice’s flummoxed silence, mistaking it for hesitation.

“That’s fine,” Susan interjects for her. “But...”

The words, why are you here remains unsaid, but the White Mage hears it anyway.

“I did a divination spell once the warning reached me,” Marcia says, like its normal for someone to manage a divination spell and have it work. Gosh, it’s blowing Alice’s mind. “And my results said that the best place to be in right now is the house of a Witch.”

Her houseguests look at Alice in interest. The words take a while to penetrate.

“But!” Alice says with surprise. “I’m not a witch! I mean…I don’t think I am? I can’t work with plants for shit and my empathy is out of whack. I don’t have a green thumb!”

Marcia finally looks confused, which makes Alice feel better. There are finally two of them suffering here.

“I do agree that an affinity with plants is a sign of a witch, but you are so obviously magical and good with witchcraft that it’s affecting everything around you, even non-living things,” the White Mage says. “The cats agree with me,” she adds, pointing out the three cats twining by her feet.

Alice, for the first time in a while, finally knows what she is. And she doesn’t appreciate it in the slightest.

…

On the day of the election, the camera pans to the president candidate and Alice almost jumps a foot in the air when his eyes turn yellow. Not dragon-gold or cat-yellow but demon-yellow.

An instinctive revulsion rises up in her and Alice finally understands why she had known to hide.

Because demons had finally come back from their banishing and Alice was one of the few Witches left in the world.

...

wrote this a few years ago, just posted this now.