#my son will now learn french curses

[bbaycon]

Souma’s 5* tour live finished yesterday or something on engstar

Brougth that guy home with tear and blood, so have a random af doodle of him

And the team that went trough around 40 live for him to come home

[lost-in-lamentation]

Hello!

This is my first ask and I feel a bit shy 🙈 but I have been looking for some time now to find someone who could write an idea I had for a few weeks now. I could write it myself but I don’t feel comfortable about doing it and also I really enjoy your writing.

I was thinking about it a lot today and your posts appeared as an answer to my prayers!

There is a French song called « The Devil doesn’t wear Prada anymore » (Le diable ne s’habille plus en Prada). In the song they talk about Lucifer so I was thinking about Lucifer and Diavolo and maybe some of the other characters listening to this song in a club or a bar or while MC is listening to it in their bedroom and I would love to see what you think their reactions would be.

I’d be happy to do the translation if that is something you’d be interested in.

-L-

a/n: definitely, a bit of a challenge to write because it’s been way too long since i stopped learning French. thank you lala3244 for the prompt and the translations <3

content: lucifer, diavolo, and satan all catch you listening to a french human world song.

can technically be either platonic or romantic, but satan is a flirt. fluff all the way through.

lucifer, diavolo, satan x gen!reader. (separate.)

lucifer.

being the kind of demon to listen to the same cursed records on loop, lucifer has never commented on the music that rings out of your room into the hallway. occasionally, he even pauses in the corridor, trying to catch the way your voice swings in tune with the words (and he denies the claims when his brothers accuse him of this). today was no different. when lucifer heard the music through the door, he stopped his journey back to the study, leaning towards your room to hear clearly. it wasn’t long before he realised the song was in a different language, but the demon wondered if it was his imagination that had him thinking you had sung out his name.

inside your room, you knocked on your desk along to the rhythm, half singing and half humming along with the song you had put on repeat.

“oui l'élève a dépassé son maître,

"oui l'enfer est bien plus gros sur terre,

"depuis qu'les hommes font pire que lucifer, depuis qu’les hommes font pire que lucifer,” you sang quietly, head bobbing up and down in time with the music. reaching over to your d.d.d., you tapped the screen awake, making sure the song would play again before turning it back off. too engrossed in the song, you failed to notice the door behind you cracking open.

“MC-” lucifer called out to you, but was quickly cut off by you yelling in surprise.

“WHA- oh my goodness, lucifer! can’t you at least knock?!” your hand slammed frantically on the desk in a crude attempt to turn down the volume of your music.

he eyed your screen curiously, clearing his throat to catch your attention. “perhaps consider keeping your music quieter so you can hear people come in.” the corners of his mouth twitched upward at your guilty expression. “i only came in because i thought i heard my name. would you enlighten me about the song?”

you released a dejected sigh. “it’s just talking about how… hell is supposedly bigger on earth, and that humans do worse than… you.”

lucifer’s shoulders shook with stifled laughter. he turned his head away, taking a moment to compose himself before turning back to you. “well, i can’t say that the song is wrong.”

═  ˎˊ˗

diavolo.

the music from the speakers blasted through the club and into your ears, making it practically impossible for you to hear diavolo correctly. the two of you had gone up to the human world for some research, and somehow managed to get everything done early with a night to spare. in celebration, you took diavolo to a popular club in the area, wanting to show him a few more human world activities before heading back to the devildom. the two of you sat across from each other in a booth, drinks in hand as you discussed (shouted over the music) about how your trip had gone.

“is it always this difficult to speak to each other in clubs?” diavolo looked towards the speakers, an eyebrow raised in concern. “i fear that volume of this level might ruin your hearing.”

you shrugged at the question, swirling your drink around with a straw. “it’s alright, as long as you’re not doing this everyday.” the current song faded out, beginning to lead into a familiar electronic riff. immediately, you waved your fingers at diavolo, gesturing to him to listen to the music. “we should play this song at one of your parties one day.”

diavolo leaned onto the table, frowning slightly. “i can’t seem to understand the lyrics.”

“that’s cause it’s in french,” you chuckled softly.

“what is it saying?”

you listened for another chorus, piecing together the translation in your head. “says that the devil doesn’t wear prada anymore. and also that he has no job anymore, since the humans took it away from him.”

the ruler of devildom stared at you, eyes flickering around the room in thought.

“it also says that humans do worse than lucifer,” you finished off as the song did, taking a swig of your drink.

diavolo only gave you a confused look. “i think the only one who ever does better than lucifer is barbatos,” he said seriously.

laughing at his stern expression, you set your glass down. “only you would say that,” you mused, moving to stand up from your seat. “let’s play it in front of lucifer next time and see what he says.”

“a splendid idea!” the demon said with his signature laugh, following you out of the club.

═  ˎˊ˗

satan.

satan thought he was hearing things. after all, your room had no reason to be playing music that loud, let alone music that was in an entirely different language. he racked his brain as he stood in your doorway, trying to recall if you had mentioned knowing a language such as french. you weren’t in your room and had left your d.d.d. playing out loud, and even though satan wanted to respect the boundaries that were set for you room, he couldn’t help himself. curiosity killed the cat, after all. why not take after it?

satan shuffled over to your desk, lighting your d.d.d. screen up to reveal the music you were playing. “le diable n- ne s’habille… plus en prada. the devil…? prada? what is prada?” he mumbled the questions to himself, unaware that you had made your way back.

“it’s a human world brand,” you answered matter-of-factly. satan immediately spun around to face you, guilt scribbled across his face. “you know french?”

sheepishly, he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. “that was going to be my question,” he muttered under his breath. “i’ve spent a lot of time learning different languages. i learned french a long time ago. how come you know it?”

you hummed softly, stepping around satan to reach for your d.d.d. and quiet the music down. “wouldn’t say i know it that well. took some classes in school, so i can pronounce french alright. can’t guarantee that i know what i’m saying though,” you replied.

satan plucked your phone out of your hand, turning it on to read the title of the song. “teach me then. how do you say the title correctly?”

a sly smile rested on your features. “as if i’ll teach you for free,” you purred at him, swiping your d.d.d. back. “what’s in it for me?”

satan’s eyes widened in surprise for a split second, but the demon was quick to control his expression. the blonde flashed you a smirk, taking a step closer to you and tilting your chin towards his face. “teach me the language of love, and…”

“and what?” you shivered at how gentle his touch was.

satan leaned in closer, his lips hovering just next to your ear. “and i’ll teach you a few things about love itself.”

a/n: polyglot satan >>>>

[kokofromwattpad]

WHAT DID YOU SAY?!

Featuring: The First Years Plot: You speak your(my)home language in front of them Cw: Reader speaks Afrikaans because it's the only language I can actually understand without a translator, Gn! reader, cursing, translations/explanations after every scenario A/N: Holy crap, the French translated version of La Seine is so *mmmmmmmmmmhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh* Also reader does say some South African slang as well.

Ace Trappola

You were busy in the library, stressing over a test that Crewel had set for the very next day, when Ace walked in, trying to find you so that you could help him with studying.

"Hey prefect! I was wondering if you would help me with studying with that test thats comin' up." he quires with his usual large smile plastered on his face.

You shoot your head up at him, your eyes staring at him with blood lust.

"Het jy regtig net my studie vir jou idiotiese gat onderbreek?!" you scream.

Ace stares stunned for a while, his arms hang stupidly by his sides.

" Nou het jy niks om te sê nie!" you yell angrily.

You gathered all of your books and your sling on bag and marched out of the library to retreat back into Ramshackle.

Much later at night, Ace messages you a fat apology, saying how he didn't know that you were stressed and wanted to make up to you. (He also says its cool that you know a different language)

Translation:

->Het jy regtig net my studie vir jou idiotiese gat onderbreek?! = Did you really just interrupt my studying for your idiot ass?!

->Nou het jy niks om te sê nie! = Now you have nothing to say!

DEUCE SPADE

Deuce was busy helping you out in Ramshackle with some cooking in the kitchen. You were on one end of the room, humming a song a song that Deuce was not paying attention too, until he hears a soft,

"Eendjies, eendjies, staan in 'n ry. Een, twee, drie, vier, stap hul' verby"

He turns his head curiously at you with a questioning face.

"Prefect, what are you singing?" he asks gently.

You stop your singing and turn to look at him. You did not realize that he had been listening to you.

"Oh it's an old lullaby my mother used to sing to me when I was little. I kinda just remembered it just now. Sorry for surprising you!" you explain.

The boy just smiles happily and continues on with the rest of day, but he just happier knowing that you relived a little bit more about yourself to him than you do to others.

Translation= Ducklings, ducklings, all in a row One, two, three, four, see how they go. {Fun fact: Most South African children learn this lullaby when they are in preschool/Grade RR}

JACK HOWL

The track and field team was going against RSA in a race today and you in the stands cheering him on.

As Jack is running, he suddenly hears form the crowd,

"SLAAN HULLE MY SEUN!"

It was you screaming your lungs out for him. Even though he had zero idea what you had just said, he still appreciates it continues to do his absolute best.

Translation: SLAAN HULLE MY SEUN! = BEAT/HIT THEM MY BOY (I personally like to assign my friends a family title, and because I said so, I assigned Jack as the son)

EPEL FELMEIR:

Epel was stomping down the hallway, anger painted beautifully on his face. He was absolutely pissed at Vil for booking a hair and makeup appointment for him even though he did not need it.

Once he saw you walk out of your final class for the day, he immediately runs up to you and starts to vent about the 'bullshit that Vil puts him in' and so on.

"Awww, shamepies" you teased.

Epel turns his head at you with a mix of anger and confused on. "What the hell did you just say?" he breathed out.

You stood surprised and then it hits you like a damn train. He doesn't understand your slang.

Quickly you explained that 'shames' means a lot of different things and it is not always bad.

Epel now uses it against Vil.

(Shames is usually not used to degrade or reprimand someone, rather it is usually used in a sarcastic or comforting way, like what reader did, they faked pity while teasing Epel for having to deal with Vil.)

SEBEK ZIGVOLT:

Sebek opened the door to Ramshackle to give you a message that was sent from Malleus. Something on the lines of meeting the prince in a different location for their nightly walk.

But when Sebek walked deeper into the dorm, he heard loud screaming coming from the lounge.

"Julle het regtig gedink dit is 'n goeie idee om soos 'n klomp apies op te tree!" you lectured.

The troublesome trio looked shamefully down at the floor, trying to ignore your harsh, blade like stare. Your hands were on your hips and thee were shattered pieces of a blue vase scattered all over the floor.

Sebek then decided that it would be better to wait in the foyer until you calmed down and decided the trio's punishment.

Translation: "Julle het regtig gedink dit is 'n goeie idee om soos 'n klomp apies op te tree!" = "You guys really thought it was a good idea to act like a bunch of monkeys!"

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

[crimeronan]

the fondest specific compliment i’ve gotten on my toh fic is that everyone swears in a way that’s very true to character. where it feels like they Definitely talk like this offscreen, like it flows naturally & isn’t jarring despite the G-rated source material

this delights me because i have spent SO MUCH time thinking about the owl house cast and how different people swear. limiting this post to POVs i’ve written but here’s a few headcanons

luz: almost never swears. if she does she’s either doing it for Maximum Emphasis or because it’s very funny in a very specific situation with very specific peers (hunter & willow. she can’t swear in front of amity or gus bc she feels like she’s tarnishing her Innocent Image). even when luz CAN say “fuck” in T-rated properties, she does in fact default to “jeez” and “crikey” and “wow” and “EAUGHHH NO OH NO EUGH NO” at all times. some people swear in their other main language around english speakers but luz is not one of these people. generally in situations where most reasonable individuals would yell “HEY ASSHOLE” or “DUDE??? WHAT THE FUCK????”...... she simply throws things and/or starts biting. That’s My Daughter

hunter: swears more than luz but still not Super Often. most common go-tos are ‘shit’ as a panicked exclamation & ‘bullshit’ as an unimpressed observation. he knows more curse words than anyone else in the show including eda because of How The Coven Scouts Are. several of the curse words are wholly made-up epithets shared by approximately ten trauma-bonded weirdo soldiers. that said, he.... legitimately does not know which muttered oaths are just weird idioms versus Actual Swears bc he’s never Needed to know. (formal speak with belos automatically removes all of these informal interjections in the first place, and no one else is gonna question how The Golden Guard talks, so.... no reason to learn.) if anyone tries to explain these nuances to him later in life he will get into an autistic shouting match about how that’s SO STUPID and UNNECESSARY and MAKES NO SENSE you DUMBSHIT MOTHERF-

eda: tries hard to tone down her language around The Chillens but swears... sssSSSO MUCH. sailor tongue ahoy the woman was raised by wolves (ie: her mom who even in her old age will still shout “YEAH RUN YOU PUNK-ASS BITCH” at randos on the street). eda says “fuck” aloud an average of once or twice in any given fic chapter but should say it more. if i ever write her alone with raine it will become 200 times per chapter because with raine she casually flips back to her high school self and all her creative teen lingos. yknow, back before she learned to be all Mature and Professional. a class act. as she rifles through heaps of garbage and develops hives at any sign of emotional intimacy

darius: theoretically swears a lot and has nothing AGAINST a very verbose “motherfucker son of a bitch dick-for-brains are you fucking SHITTING me you INCOMPETENT-” however he USUALLY uses boiling isles swears. not because he’s being censored by the writers but because a muttered “mother of titans i’m begging you to come down and cast these fucking imbeciles into the boiling sea before i lose my fuckdamned SHI-” is just. Yeah. That’s Him. darius is the guy who WOULD be saying ‘jesus h christ’ and ‘christ on a stick shift’ and ‘mother mary of god PLEASE either end this meeting early or STRIKE ME DEAD BEFORE MASS’ except. yknow, he’s got other religious figures to invoke. sidenote he’s been dying to shout “KIIIIISS MYYYY ASSSSSS” at 98% of his coworkers for 30 straight years. to the point that he sometimes dreams about it

bonus

camila: swears exclusively in french (a language in which she is not fluent) bc she doesnt want luz picking up bad language. she learned these expressions from an old friend from montreal which means that luz now has a weirdly broad knowledge of extremely rude quebecois slang without knowing any specific definitions. she just knows that these are words you recite to french-canadians if you want to start a bar fight.

[thedevilsruby]

Why Don't You Love Who I Am? (Scout & Spy fic)

Scout was still trying to absorb all of it.

Spy was his father.

Spy was the man who left him with his spiteful ma and his bullying brothers in that insane household.

Spy was the reason ma resented him since the rat bastard left them behind and never bothered to get in touch with again.

And now he was just learning that was his father.

"No, no, it's can't be right..." Scout mumbled, trying to deny it. But no matter how hard he tried, he knew it was the truth.

All this time, he had been working with his father. And he was the one who bullied and belittled him, left Scout for dead when he knew Scout was in trouble. He would rather save his own skin than save his flesh and blood.

There was a knock.

"Fuck off." Scout snarled, knowing who it was.

Spy opened the door, a hesitant look on his face. It looked foreign on the French man.

"Jeremy, I-"

"it's Scout to you." Scout snarled. "You lost the right to use my name the day you walked out."

"Jer-Scout, please, let us talk about zhis-" Spy pleaded.

"Oh, now you wanna talk!" Scout snapped. "What're you gonna do, call me a failure?"

"No!"

"Say how useless I am, tell me I'm not really a part of this team? Tell me how incredibly stupid I must be to think anyone would ever wanna love me?"

"Scout, I'm sor-"

"No! No, you don't get to apologize and think it'll make everything you said about me okay!" Scout felt his emotions building up, and tried to shove them down. "You left me and it not only hurt me, you hurt me and my brothers, which made them hurt me!"

Spy froze. What did Scout's mother and her sons do? "What...?"

Scout took a shuddering breath. "Ma always hated me since you left. She said I was just a reminder of you, the one who left her without any indication that you were coming back. Ya didn't even fucking call her!" Scout started pacing back and forth. "And her boys? Oh god, she treated her boys like they were perfect fucking angels! Even when they would make fun of me and treat me like total shit, just because we didn't have the same dads!"

Spy's jaw sagged slightly. He had no idea that's how they would treat him. He thought he left Scout in the safest hands. "Scout...I-I'm sorry. I really am. I thought she loved you."

"You thought wrong." Scout glared at Spy. "I got this job to get away from that, and here I am, getting bullied by my fucking father!" Scout's dam broke and he started crying, not caring in the least how weak he looked. He was just so done holding it in.

Spy placed a hand on Scout's shoulder. "Scout, please I-I never meant to...I didn't..." Spy, for once, couldn't find the words. "I'm so sorry, Scout."

"Why don't you love who I am?!" Scout yelled. "Am I really that bad?! Am I that hard to love?!"

"No, Scout, please, let us talk about-"

"SHUT UP!" Scout screamed, shoving Spy away. "IT'S YOUR FAULT! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! If you hadn't left me o-or just taken me with you, I...maybe I would be good enough! Maybe I could be lovable to someone! Maybe I could get the attention I've been wanting for years!" Scout wiped his eyes and cheeks, trying to calm himself. "Maybe someone could actually help me be better..."

Spy felt his own tears welling up. He had helped ruin his only child without knowing it. He had put Scout through hell no one deserved.

He pulled Scout into his arms, not caring if Scout fought him. "I have always loved you." He whispered. "Zhere was never one day where I didn't zhink about you. I left because I zhought you would be safer. I'm so sorry."

Scout tried to shove Spy away, to find his voice to curse and scream at Spy. But he couldn't. He couldn't shove his own father away. He simply clenched Spy's jacket in his fingers and sobbed into his chest.

Maybe the healing could begin now.

-

I have a headcanon that Spy didn't know Scout was his son, just another wannabe brat from Boston but now that he knows, he's going to make up for lost time.

I also have a headcanon that Scout's mom was abusive towards him since Spy left him and her a single mom yet again, but absolutely loved her other boys, who treated Scout like dirt since he was only their half brother, and they saw how Spy leaving gave their mom more grief than before and blamed Scout.

I hope you all enjoyed this!

[wintersmutkingdom]

Higuruma Hiromi x lectrice frustrée.

Higuruma Hiromi x angry you/femreader

I'm changing my approach for now ! Writing in French first and using google translate and hope for the best lmfao. I guess you can use my text to try and learn the language LOL.

18 +, MDNI

Tags : No drugs, but mention of the effects of drugs (lol), feeling like a snowflake under his presence. (you) Needing a listener, not a fucking talker. Cursing at him. Biting his lips. Your pleasure above all - that you take from him- robing sexes, pp in vagnaynay. Crempie. Clean up Creampie (it's a chance he morns for trying new things). Bareback.

Version française

Malgré qu'Hiromi parle avec des faits véridiques et vérifiables pour la majorité du temps, avoir une conversion avec lui sans recevoir des conseils non sollicités devient quelque chose de périlleux et irritant. Ce côté de lui non chalant et nourrissant intelectuellement par la multitudes de choses que tu apprends a bien evidement ses limites. Même avec sa belle gueule pour s'en sortir, aujourd'hui t'en avais marre. Ton besoin était son support physique ou ses mots empathiques.

Une conversation avec chat GPT était loin d'être ce que tu avais besoin, alors que ce que tu voulais étais un contact humain et sa chaleur qu'il sait uniquement te donner à toi, te rendant spécial et sourtout te permettant de te sentir comme la personne la plus spéciale à ces yeux, celle qu'il a choisi de daigner son attention, celle qui te permet de te sentir si adéquate et si privilégière. C'est seulement une simple phase tous ces ressenties qu'il te permet d'atteindre en ce moment. Cet effet de nouveauté qui te fais sécreté la noradrenaline doublé à ta dopamine avec un jet de sérotonine.

Hiromi, cet avocat du diable qui te fait littéralement l'effet d'une drogue sur ton corps en manque, en sevrage après quelques instants d'être à l'écart de lui, et ce désir d'en vouloir plus en atteignant uniquement cette satisfaction sporadique.

''Je me fou de tes arguments Hiromi, pourquoi tu me dis ça ? Dans quel but ? ''.

Décontenancé par tes propos et se rendant compte de son attitude de merde, tu vois la surprise dans ses yeux. La surprise des risques de perdre une belle soirée avec toi, alors que tu es si sublime dans ta robe épousant tous tes formes et courbes. Ces fabriques mettant en valeurs ta sensualité et ton élégence imbriqué dans tes façons de faire et d'agir. Tes yeux braqués sur ceux d'un cerf devant une voiture sur une route la nuit. Il se désiste de sa posture de Joe connaissant (Je-sais-tout). Et pour une raison qui t'échappe son regard s'assombris, amusé de te voir irritée pour une première fois.

Il se mord la lèvre, et ça t'enrage encore plus de voir le changement dans son attitude. ''Tu penses que tu fais quoi ?'' Et, trop tard, tu le vois avancer vers toi d'un pas séducteur. Il espère t'enjoliver aussi facilement ou quoi ?.

''J'aime quand tu te fâches, ton air si sérieux, ton regard percant, tous la tension dans ton corps. Je veux en sentir les conséquences''.

Woah, comment un homme peut sortir cette phrase et s'attendre à avoir une chance d'entrer en contact avec ton sexe ?! ''Esti, tu me niaises''. Et pourtant tu peux ressentir tes seins devenir percant au travers le tissus de soie qui te sépare de lui maintenant, et qui sont clairement remarquables. Une atmosphère électrisante s'installe, ce jeu -ou ce piège- tu tombes dedans en pleine face avec amusement et une pincée de déception à ton égard de te laisser embarquer dans sa puérilité.

Tu serres des dents, il remarque. Il met sa bouche et l'emboite dans la tienne comme le dernier morceau d'un casse-tête qu'on installe. Tu sens tes levres se détendre pour réciproquer ce baiser, mais pendant un bref instant avant de répliquer avec une férocité démesurée. Il perçoit ce signal pour te déchirer ton vêtement (dont tu viens de te procurer à un prix non négligeable).

''Tu mets de l'huile sur le feu, mon Tabarnak''. Tu agrippes ses vêtements, et tire sur sa cravatte qui se déserre de lui et qui le fait pencher vers l'avant d'un coup. Tu continues ta manoeuvre en arrachant les boutons de sa chemises d'un coup. Les boutons effectuant des ricochets sur le sol. Son regard suit leurs traces alors qu'ils s'éparpilent dans la pièces. Hiromi se redresse, une part estomaqué et d'autre part amusé par tes réactions. ''J'espère que tu ne fais que commencer [ton nom]''. Il t'empogne fermement, alors que tu commencais à croire que c'est toi qui allait le discipliner. Tiquée, tu le repousses et le pousse sur le mur. Tu lui mords la lèvre, lui volant un ''Aie'' bien souffrant. Tu lui fais dos, et laisse tes brettelles tombées, ce qui propulse ton vêtement sur le sol tout en glisant sur tes formes. Lui permettant une petite douceur après sa douleur méritée en baignant ses yeux sur ton corps somptueux.

Il s'approche de toi, défait sa ceinture et désippe ses pentalons. Tu t'installes assise sur le comptoir face à lui. ''Écarte tes jambes, ou je le fais pour toi''. ''Essaie pour voir mon maudit'', tu réponds du tac au tac sans perdre une seconde l'empognant par la cravate, essayant de le soumettre avec tes prunelles glaciales.

Il fait un demi sourire et penche vers tes lèvres, tu l'empogne fermement par la mâchoire et le tire plus sèchement vers toi. Tu sens son membre sur ton sexe chaud et mouillé. Tu prends fermement son membre à ta merci et bien fier. Tu commences à le chatouiller brièvement sur ta fleur. Puis, longtemps sur ton pollen. Tu t'amuses avec son membre, comme s'il n'était qu'un vulgère jouet sexuel sans plus. Tu oublies presque qu'un humain y est rattaché. Tu te touche les seins par ce fait même, rendant ton corps en extase, maximisant tes sensations avec satisfaction.

Ton souffles devient de plus en plus court et tu le cherches de plus en plus. Tu sens la tension montée avec chaque mouvement de bassin qu'Hiromi commence à faire pour mieux t'accompagner dans ta masturbation avec son engin. Tu le sens frotter sur ta petite perle, tu sens ses expirations chaudes et humides dans tes oreilles, ce qui te donne la chair de poule passant de ton coup à tes seins et sur ton bonbon sucré et fortement stimulé. Tu sens une pression se sublimer et se diffuser partout dans ton corps comme une vague caressant ton anatomie.

Sans lui daigner un regard, tu passes au chose sérieuse, tu veux te sentir rempli par lui. Tu approches tes hanches vers les siennes, entrant doucement son gland dans ton ouverture invitante. Tu sens ta porte se contracter sur son sexe fébril. Tu laisses sortir un doux gémissement d'anticipation pour la suite que tu t'imagines, laissant tomber ta tête vers l'arrière. Tu lui jettes un regard constant dans tes aises. Tu lui donnes 2 coups de chevilles sur ses fesses. Tes jambes sont recroquevillés sur le côté de son torse musclé. Tu serres fort de tes jambes pour ressentir ces reliefs sur ta peau et tu laisses un autre gémissement sortir de ta bouche. En effectuant ce mouvement, tu as sous-estimé la réaction de ton sexe se resserrer encore plus sur le sien. Tu sens que ce mouvement a aussi fait en sorte que tu as senti encore plus de sa longeur et de sa largeur en toi. Surprise par ton manque d'air, tu t'aggripes fortement sur ses épaules. Tu places tes ongles dans sa peau, lui soutirant un autre ''Aie'' bien mérité par sa langue sale.

Tu te resaissie en agrippant le creux de sa cravate vers ton cou. Tu respires son expiration humide, te permettant de sentir son haleine chaude et sa bonne hodeur te rendant encore plus excitée. Ce geste brusque lui fait un effet de vague en coup de bassin. Tu guides ses coups avec l'empognement que tu fais de sa cravate. ''Horimi, touche-moi''.

''Oui [ton nom]'', et touches ta bille avec son pouce, doucement de prime à bord et plus vigoureusement en prenant soin d'étendre ton miel juteux. Ses mouvements de va et vient ainsi que son touché ne te laisse pas bouche bée. Le son du jus de vos fruits interdits te fait ancrer davantage dans ta transe et fait presque jouir Hiromi s'extasiant à ta vue. Tu jouis sur son sexe sans crier gare, relachant ton liquide vénérée sur sa verge qui ne demandait que ça. Hiromi se relâche et tu sens son sperme te remplir, ça t'excite et tu te touches pour orgasmer encore avec ton engin déjà surstimulé. Ton dernier gémissement comme le cri d'une sirène.

Hiromi se retire rapidement, observant son sperme ressortir de ton entrée. Il se liche la lèvre pour retrouver ton expression exténuée. ''J'adore quand tu te fâches T/N''. Tu l'aggripes par les cheveux encore en train de retrouver ton souffle. Tu sens ton corps transpiré et sans parler tu lui descend la tête vis-à-vis ton sexe et tu le diriges dessus. ''Nettoies ma chatte souillée''. Il s'exécute sans réfléchir. Lichant tous les parties qui sont et auraient pu être tâchées de son encre. Tu observes son membre devenir dur et rigide. Tu le relève toujours avec ses cheveux en mains et lui nommes ''Oh bel énergumène, prêt à tout, même une deuxième expérience''.

...

ENGLISH VERSION.

Word CUNT : 1.2 k

Although Hiromi speaks with true and verifiable facts the majority of the time, having a conversation with him with receiving unsolicited advice becomes something perilous and irritating. This side of him that is non-challenging and intellectually nourishing by the multitude of things you learn obviously has its limits. Even with his pretty face to get by, today you were fed up. Your need was his physical support and his sweet words.

A conversation with chat GPT was far from what you needed, when what you wanted was physical touch and his warmth that he only knows how to give to you. Making you special and above all allowing you to feel like the most special person in his eyes, the one he chose to deign his attention, the one who makes you feel so adequate and so privileged. It's just a simple phase of all these feelings that he allows you to reach at this moment. This novelty effect that makes you secrete noradrenaline coupled with your dopamine with a burst of serotonin.

Hiromi, this devil's advocate who literally has the effect of a drug on your body in withdrawal, in withdrawal after a few moments of being away from him, and this desire to want more by only reaching this sporadic satisfaction.

''I don't care about your arguments Hiromi, why are you telling me that? What purpose ?''.

Taken aback by your words and realizing his shitty attitude, you see the surprise in his eyes. The surprise of the risks of losing a beautiful evening with you, when you are so sublime in your dress hugging all your shapes and curves. These factories highlighting your sensuality and your elegance intertwined in your ways of doing and acting. Your eyes locked on those of a deer in front of a car on a road at night. He abandons his know-it-all attitude. And for some reason his gaze darkens, amused to see you irritated for the first time.

He bites his lip, and it angers you even more to see the change in his attitude. ''What do you think you're doing ?'' And, too late, you see him walk towards you with a seductive step. He hopes to beautify you that easily or what?

''I like when you get angry, you look so serious, your piercing gaze, all the tension in your body. I want to feel the consequences of my shit talk.”

Woah, how can a man say that sentence and expect to have a chance with you?! ''Fucking shit, you're kidding me''. And yet you can feel your nipples piercing through the silk that separates you from him now, and which are clearly remarkable. An electrifying atmosphere sets in, this game - or this trap - you fall right in, with all your the face with amusement and a pinch of disappointment in yourself for letting yourself get caught up in its childishness.

You grit your teeth, he notices. He places his mouth and fits it into yours like the last piece of a puzzle being put together. You feel your lips relax to reciprocate the kiss, but for a brief moment only before responding with excessive ferocity. He perceives this signal to tear off your clothing (which you have just obtained at a significant price).

''You add fuel to the fire, fuckface''. You grab his clothes, and pull on his tie which loosens from him and makes him lean forward suddenly. You continue your maneuver by tearing off the buttons of his shirts in one go. The buttons ricochet on the ground. His gaze follows their tracks as they scatter around the room. Hiromi sits up, partly stunned and partly amused by your reactions. ''I hope you're just getting started Y/N''. He grabs you firmly, while you were starting to believe that it was you who was going to discipline him. Annoyed, you push him away and push him against the wall. You bite his lip, stealing a very painful 'Ouch' from him. You turn your back to him, and let your straps fall, which propels your garment on the ground while sliding on your forms. Allowing him a little sweetness after his well deserved pain by bathing his eyes on your sumptuous body.

He approaches you, undoes his belt and unzips his pants. You sit on the counter in front of him. "Spread your legs, or I'll do it for you." “Try me dipshit”, you respond straight away without missing a beat, grabbing him by the tie, trying to subdue him with your icy eyes.

He gives a half smile and leans towards your lips, you grab him firmly by the jaw and pull him more sharply towards you. You feel his member on your hot and wet sex. You take his penis firmly at your mercy and very proudly so. You start tickling it briefly on your opening and then for a long time on your clit.

You play with his member, as if he were just a mere sex toy and nothing more. You almost forget his existence and touch your breasts in the process, making your body ecstatic, maximizing your sensations and touching yourself with satisfaction.

Your breaths become shorter and shorter and you seek him more and more. You feel the tension building with each pelvic movements that Hiromi begins to make to better accompany you in your masturbation with his member. You feel him rubbing on your little pearl, you feel his hot and wet exhales in your ears, which suddenly gives you goosebumps, moving to your breasts and to your strongly stimulated clitoris. You feel a pressure sublimate and spread throughout your body like a wave caressing your anatomy.

Without deigning to look at him, you get down to business, you want to feel filled by him. You approach your hips towards his, gently entering his acorn into your vagina. You feel the insides of your labias contract on his feverish sex. You let out a soft moan of anticipation for what you're imagining next, letting your head fall back. You glance at him constantly in your comfort. You give him 2 ankle kicks on his buttocks. Your legs are curled up at the side of his muscular torso. You squeeze your legs hard to feel these bumps on his skin and you let another moan escape your mouth. By making this movement, you underestimated the reaction of your vagina tightening even more on his dick. You feel that this movement also made you feel even more of its length and width within you. Surprised by your lack of air, you grab onto his shoulders tightly. You dig your nails into his skin, drawing another well-deserved 'Ouch' from his dirty mouth.

You pull yourself together, gripping the crook of his tie to your neck. You inhale his wet exhales, allowing yourself to smell his warm breath and his good smell making you even hornier. This sudden gesture gives him a pelvic wave effect. You guide his blows, his hips rocking your pu$$y, with the grip you make of his tie. ''Horimi, touch me'' you demand.

''Yes Y/N'', and touches your marble with his thumb, gently at first and more vigorously, taking care to spread your juicy honey. His back and forth movements as well as his touch don't leave you speechless. The sound of your bodily fluids makes you further anchored in your trance and almost makes Hiromi cum in ecstasy at the sight of you. You cum on his cock without warning, releasing your revered liquid on his penis which was just what he was asking for. Hiromi relaxes and you feel his sperm filling you, it excites you and you touch yourself to orgasm again with your already overstimulated coochie. Your last moan like a mermaid song.

Hiromi quickly pulls out, watching his cum leak out of your entrance. He licks his lip to find your exhausted expression. ''I love it when you get angry Y/N''. You grab him by the hair still trying to catch your breath. You feel your body sweating and without speaking you lower his head towards your pussy and direct him towards it. ''Cleanse my dirty pu$$y''. He does so without thinking. Licking all the parts that are and could have been stained with his ink. You watch as his member becomes hard and rigid. You still pick him up with his hair in your hands and call him ''Oh you sick freak, ready for anything, even a second round''.

...

Hope Google translate enjoyed reading that lol.

[bl00dst41ned]

i listened to a few stuff released yesterday so here is what i found for you (it's different from what i usually post but hey, i'm just having fun)

first, we have "are you gone already" by nicki minaj from her new album "Pink Friday 2". the song, which is the intro of the album, samples "when the party is over" by billie. nicki opens up about the birth of her baby and the passing of her dad, two events that changed her (it got me a bit emotional ngl). i enjoyed it a lot and i hope you'll enjoy it too. (please listen to it, it's so gooodddddd)

second, "airplane tickets" by pharrell, swae lee and rauw alejandro. it is just a cool song to vibe to and it brings a hint of sun in days like now, which can be depressive and sad (writing this as it rains outside). obviously, swae's voice is through the roof. his vocals are so unmatched i can't. it was the first time i listened to rauw and i liked how sweet his voice was and how it felt like flying (might be because of the slight echo in his voice).

thirdly, "i'm sorry" by arlo parks and lous and the yakuza (it is a remix). the instrumental is already so good so adding the two girls voices is just perfect. i don't really know how to describe it (need to learn how to since i wanna make this into my job). just so cool to listen to.

finally, "aller sans retour" by zola and koba la d. knowing my people around tumblr, i don't think many people are into that much rap especially that type of rap. but if you like strong instrumentals, a somewhat "dark" atmosphere and modern street rap, you may like it (this description is so eww) (warnings: curse words and violent or sexual subjects ahead but it's in ✨french✨)

bonus: "to zion" by lauryn hill. this is not new (1999 lol), i know but it was a discovery for me this week. i just loved the meaning of the song and her vocals on the chorus, unbelievable. it is about her son, zion marley, born in 1997

hope you enjoyed the songs 🤎

[freeworldallahexecutivembaclass]

Sunday is always the best day of the week to check your watch , schedule , and calendar for the rest of the year while fixing your cufflinks in the back of my limousine as we cruise through the streets of Gotham New York City and I say thank you Mr . Nasir Jones and 50 Cent and then French Montana for providing me with a world class education , I got Joyce Meyer , Joel Osteen and Victoria Osteen on my book list and I am a world class political scientist economist and social scientist now a business student getting an IVY League education I own my own library and my own hospital with an even more brighter future ahead of me , thank you Prince Harry is a bother and a friend of mines I'm a King status now and I'm in the hospitality business after taking over the streets with my politics with Mayor Bill De Blasio and Former Governor Andrew Cuomo and patrolling the New York City streets as Gotham Batman Bruce Wayne and Savior of his people as Superman Clark Kent in front of City Hall to the streets and now I'm going for Madison and Park Avenue I'm in the hospitality business so it is all about how treat people first their is my list of accomplishments showing that I care now I'm going to commit to getting my education in big business in my city and hopefully get into other cities and countries in the world Im going international but first I commit to my education my library is my school my class and you should treat as such go there and get your mind right I'm civilized so my establishment are civilized I expect and give great great service because I believe in and love people they make life exciting all walks of people I love em they make me feel good , enjoy your sunday all these are in my plans now for the near future I plan to serve donut dough mixed drinks with reeases smores crushed crumbed cake thick mix with oatmeal milk with lid as a drink though and line of Im loyal to the Queen 👑 Hotels just dreaming out loud I'm young and confident and had a great career in like the political science and sociology fields that I made a star of myself and now I want go into business and I know it is hard work and it is easier said than done I'm just excited about it on this Sunday and I wanted share this with you and the direction I'm going in the future and with my future I'm commiting to a business education my business education set in play by Governor Andrew Cuomo he believed in me and help to redeem my character and self in the face and in front of the people thank you thank you so much he made a program of me helping to rebuild New York City in the science of legislature in law passing laws getting stuff done for the people , politics and what's goes on in this city thank you I'm honored and hope you have a great Sunday and afternoon .

You ever feel you tripped and fell into the wrong kind of people and their practices of evilness I wish I could talk to myself more than people that hate me I wish I was you I got voodoo a curse on me and a very demonic person or set of people is the voice in my head 24 / 7 Joyce Meyer speak on that in Battlefield of the mind the hood may need to return to God and really find out what being Christian , Muslim or 5 Percenter really mean it's the hood so it is aight not to do your part as a good person it just a theory until you put righteousness into theory until then you are undeveloped and evil and that make what you so called hate . Quick announcement Nicki took me on as a son of hers and I accept we don't look alike but she took me on and I said yeah she don't need anything from me but I'm learning the business and plan to open shops and hotels called I'm loyal to the Queen hotel with her and Cardi B and other stuff in business it is just a dream of mines you are going to love it when I finish learning it I will post it , it is going to be my plans and ideas and seeing who got the best pitch to them like I said they good it just something I want to learn and get it done and name it after my first women I'm going to go as far as I could in learning it and then drawing it and showing the world and hopefully she don't say no , wish me luck my behaviors is changing as far as doing things in an appropriate manner and sorry about the drama I may have caused anyone but everything is fixed and everybody is doing okay so let's enjoy the future together as New Yorkers and prosperity . Those ladies are free to live stress free over me they got their freedom from me they are free to go and is free to live their lives they are safe I will make it to the other side of financial success they ain't gotta worry about me and if they like me they will take my plans on , I'm a huge smash and success in the economy , politics and social science but I moved on and leave that to the professionals while I go enjoy my life and individuality , thank you it has been a blessing and great for me to help New York City and other places in the world and I wish the best for all communities in the world .

[ichigoromi]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 | 𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧

So who's the responsible one in this relationship?

Pairing (s): Gojo Satoru x pregnant fem reader! (she/her) x junior Gojo (son)

Genre: fluff

Warning (s): usage of strong language

a/n - kisses is a main priority for Gojo men

Enjoy!

Gojo Satoru

Satoru is literally a simp for his wife, a.k.a you.

You two have been married for five years, and after having one son three years ago, you are pregnant again.

When he found out you were pregnant, he wanted you to stop working, but you managed to convince him to let you work shorter shifts cause you're a doctor.

Today was your off day since you had an appointment in the morning to check up with your doctor to ensure everything is well.

And yeah, the baby is healthy, you're healthy, so all is well.

You decided to pick up your son, Keisuke, from his pre-school and pick up some light snacks before returning home.

Keisuke was highly excited to have you come and pick him up and, he would thank his teachers and greet your baby bump with a kiss.

He looks like Gojo, but he has more of your personality (thank god) and pretty much was like an angel.

You bought his favourite, french crepe and headed back home.

On your way back, as you were driving, there just seemed to be some rude drivers on the road and being a preggie lady, this was pissing you off.

Before you know it, you were cursing the shit out of the other rude drivers, and Keisuke was shocked to hear the colourful language that you were spouting.

But he kept his mouth shut because his papa told him to never anger a pregnant lady, and Satoru learned it the hard way.

The family staff helped Keisuke out of the child seat from the back and got his stuff out. Keisuke held your hand together and headed into the house together. He can't wait to get his hand on the crepe that his mother bought for him.

"Mama, can I eat the crepe now?" Keisuke tugs on your dress and gives you those puppy eyes, just like his father.

"Okay, but wash your hands first." He nodded his head and went to the bathroom to wash his hands first.

You sat down on the sofa and let out a sigh; being pregnant with twins was really tiring, and you were going to fall asleep soon.

"I've washed my hands! Can I have the crepe?" He excitedly asked, and you passed him the crepe. One thing that he is like his father is that he has a sweet tooth.

Because of that, you had to control both of their sweet intake, especially the young Keisuke's, since he is still growing.

When he took a bite of the crepe, filled with fresh cream and strawberries, he was in heaven.

While Keisuke was taking his time savouring the crepe, you gave in and decided to take a nap on the sofa.

"Mama?" He cautiously poked you, but you were pretty much knocked out. Seeing that you are sleeping, he quietly eats his crepe and hum a little tune to himself.

If it was Satoru, he probably is poking your cheeks till you get up in annoyance.

But Keisuke is not like his father. After he was done with his crepe, he went to one of the family maids to ask for help to take a bath.

Since you're a deep sleeper, you didn't even feel the maids putting a pillow under your head and covered you with a blanket.

After he is done with his bath, he makes his way back to the living room again.

He was debating whether to do some drawing or just nap with you.

He chose to nap with you, so he crawled into your embrace and settled there to take a nap with you.

---

Satoru returned home to find Keisuke drawing by the living room floor, and you knocked out on the sofa.

"Papa! You're back!" Keisuke got up from the floor and excitedly ran towards him.

He carried his son in his arms and pepper his face full of kisses.

"Shall we wake mama up?" The toddler shook his head.

"Noooo, what if mama gets angry? We shouldn't." He shook his head, and Satoru laughed and pinched his chubby cheeks.

"How about we go prepare dinner and then wake Mama up?" His son nodded his head, and they both headed towards the kitchen.

There's only one thing that Satoru can cook really well, and that is curry rice.

Keisuke was seated on the kitchen counter, and Satoru started preparing the ingredients for the curry rice.

"Papa, I learned some new words from mama, but I don't think I can use this with my friends..."

Now that caught the attention of Satoru, what did Keisuke learn from you that he can't use with his friends.

"Okay, tell me." He shook his head adamantly.

"How about you whispered it in my ear?" Keisuke hesitated a little while and nodded his head.

Satoru leaned down to Keisuke; he leaned in and whispered to his dad.

Boy, oh boy, it seems like he needs to have a little talk with you.

"Yeap, definitely don't use it at all. Good boy, I'll buy you some daifuku tomorrow." Satoru pats his head and continues to cook the curry.

Meanwhile, you were finally awake from your deep slumber.

You stretched your body and walked towards the kitchen, where you could hear your husband and son laughing.

"Hmm, curry rice for dinner? I'll make the salad then." You went and got ingredients for the salad.

Satoru stops you and kisses you fully on the lips, while Keisuke turns his head away and sticks out his tongue in disgust.

"Mhmm, stop it, Satoru. Now, continue to cook; I'm starving." You poked his forehead, and he pointed to his lips.

You kiss him again on the lips to get him to cook faster, and he quickly gets to work.

"Mama, I want kisses too." Keisuke juts his lips out to you, and you cup his chubby cheeks to give him a kiss too.

The Gojo men are all the same, a sucker for kisses.

---

After dinner and some light fruit refreshments, Satoru brought Keisuke to his room to read him to sleep.

You were waiting for Satoru to take a bath together.

"Satoru~, hurry up!" You whined while lazing on the king-size bed.

"Baby, I just put Keisuke to sleep. I'll go run the bath now. Wait for a while." He kissed your forehead and went to the bathroom to fill the bathtub.

"Satoru, I want persimmons. I'm craving for some now..."

He walks out of the bathroom and sees you pouting on the bed.

"I'll get them after the bath. Or do you want me to ring up one of the maids to get it?" You shook your head.

"I want you to get them for me. Thank you~!" You leaned up to kiss him on the lips, and he immediately softened.

"I guess if my wife wants, I think I shall get it. Come on, let's get in." He helped you remove your clothes and hold your hand tightly as you dipped your leg into the water to test the temperature and got in after Satoru.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his hands on your baby bump.

"Baby, you know, Keisuke told me he learned some new words. Words that only us would use when we're upset or annoyed." Oops.

"Oh well, the traffic was terrible, and there were some rude drivers that made me wanna punch them." You mumbled, trying to explain yourself.

"Honey, using motherfucker, stupid asshole and bastards, is a little too much, don't you think? Especially in front of Keisuke?" You pout as he chided you.

"Fine, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." He chuckles, seeing the pout on your face.

"Come on, let me kiss that pout away." You tilt your head up, and he leans down to kiss your lips.

"Oh yeah, remember my persimmons."

But Satoru continued to kiss down from the chin to your neck.

"Satoru! My persimmons!"

"Hmm, one second."

And he captures your lips again. This man and his need for kisses;)

GOJO SATORU! AHHHHHH!

I share a love-hate relationship with him, but most of the time, I like him! Hope you all enjoy this!

Thank you for reading!

Stay safe and healthy!

With love,

Rosalie🍓

[greyeyedmonster-18]

Dear Prongs,... Love Always, Padfoot.

Dear Prongs,

We really tried our best, but your kid has a potty mouth.

Dear Prongs,

We really tried our best, but your kid has a potty mouth. I mean, I guess the cool part about that is Harry’s talking now! And he talks a lot. Kid could talk to a wall, really. Like father like son

I’ve been reading those parenting books, the ones you had on your nightstand? I’ve been reading them and they told me kids would start parroting but it didn’t really sink in...

---

1983

Sundays in the Black-Lupin-Potter household were an unopposed favorite day of the week. Not that Sirius worked, other than dealing with bureaucratic nonsense of upholding the Black estate; not that the other six days of the week were terribly taxing for him personally, but Sundays always felt different. Especially as Harry got older, now three, and began to have opinions on breakfast food (well, opinions on everything really) and Sirius was nothing if but accommodating. 

Harry sat on the large kitchen counter, a large bowl of pancake batter in between his legs that he was stirring as Sirius prepared the bacon. Remus was at the kitchen table, still half asleep with a cup of coffee in his hands watching the scene with amusement.

“Choc’late chips too?” Harry asked as he continued to stir the batter with a large wooden spoon.

“I second that,” Remus added smiling, “Just pass me the bag after your done and I’ll be set.”

“Moony, no!” Harry laughed

“Yeah, Moony, no.” Sirius told him over his shoulder, reaching a hand over to mess up Harry’s hair

“Padfoot, no!!” Harry exclaimed shaking his head at Sirius’ hand which was now threatening to start a tickle war, pancake batter spilling slightly onto his legs, “Ah shit!”

Sirius’ wand clattered to the floor at the expletive, Remus choking on the sip of coffee he had taken at the most inopportune time, sputtering out something that sounding similar to what Harry had just said.

“It’s a mess!” Harry looked at Sirius, “Padfoot, clean, please.” 

“Oh, right, right. Shit,” Sirius swore in French, picking his wand up off the ground, remembering that there was a three year old there who had made a mess and also added a curse word to his vocabulary. 

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Remus told him, “Just because you’re a bilingual arse--”

“Shhhhhhh,” Sirius cut him off as he spelled away the mess on Harry, going back to the bacon that was approaching “very cooked”. He flicked his wand so the heat would go down, putting his hands over Harry’s ears quickly, “Did he learn that from you or me?” Harry started to wiggle beneath Sirius’ hands, giggling slightly.

“Fuck if I know, babe.”

“Remus.”

--

1987

It had been a debate, when Harry had gotten old enough to start attending primary school, whether or not to send him. Traditionally, magical children were tutored in the home, Sirius having grown up with a host of private tutors for every subject. Remus had grown up attending a muggle school despite his father being a wizard. Remus had inevitably won, and starting at the age of five, Harry had been going to a private primary school in London. 

“I’m not sending my kid to public school, Moony.”

“Please be more posh, love.”

It was a surprise to both of them when they were both called in mid-way through the year prior to parent-teacher meetings, on a random Wednesday, by Harry’s teacher Ms. Martin. Sirius and Remus sat in the tiny plastic school chairs, not designed for two grown men, his young and usually very perky teacher sitting in front of them at her desk.

“So, I wanted to speak with both of you today...” she began

“This sounds serious,” Remus said, folding his hands in his lap, “Is everything okay?”

“Well, you know I adore Harry. He is such a sweet boy, but...he has been exhibiting some troubling...language.”

“Really?” asked Sirius exchanging a glance with Remus who closed his eyes slowly, a hand going up to rest on his temples. 

“He..uh, told one of the other students, her names Summer, to take a ride on his “suck stick” this afternoon after he won a game of Go-Fish.”

Sirius bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing loudly, “Wow, that’s...uhm... so strange. I don’t even know what a suck-stick could be.”

“Perhaps a lollipop? Or...?” suggested Remus, exchanging another look with Sirius that clearly said this one is all you, keep it together you arsehole

“I haven’t heard the phrase before,” Ms. Martin continued slowly, “And I’m afraid it might be inappropriate or insulting.”

“We don’t speak like that in our home ever.” Sirius told her, nodding, pressing his lips together tightly to avoid smiling, “We will speak to him.”

--

1990

Remus, Sirius and Harry sat at the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place, a empty glass jar in the center, Remus’ long fingers tapping it gently.

“This, is the newest member of our family, Harry,” Remus said.

“...It’s a jar.”

“Not just any jar,” Remus continued, “A swear jar. We’ve noticed you’ve gotten particularly....liberal with your swears lately. It’s okay to express yourself when you’re frustrated but you are starting Hogwarts soon and I know professors don’t tolerate language of any sorts from students...” Remus looked at Sirius next to him, the dark-haired man gesturing for Remus to continued. 

A swear jar? The fuck is that going to do, Moons?

“So, every time you swear, you put a knut from your allowance into the jar.” 

“Everytime?” balked Harry, his eyes widening behind glasses, “That’s bullocks.”

--

1995

“Harry called me a choad-juggler.” Remus told him, invisible smoke coming out of his ears as he stood with his arms folded in the middle of their bedroom. Sirius had been putting away laundry while Remus was with Harry, the former trying to convince Harry to do his winter break assignments before the hols.

Sirius dropped the towel he was holding and snorted, “A what?”

“A choad-juggler.”

“That’s...terrible and not funny in the slightest,” Sirius responded trying to surpress his grin, contained laughter coming out as violent throat clears knowing his husband hated name-calling and back-talk from their teenager. “Very wrong...are you sure he didn’t say choad-chugger?”

“No.”

“Because that would make more logistical sense...though you are very deft with your hands so juggler may be more fitting. If either one of us is going to juggle it’s--,” Sirius reasoned standing up to cross to Remus whose jaw had fallen open, preparing to scold Sirius as well.

“I know you are not encouraging our child to talk to people like that.”

“It is creative.”

“Sirius.”

“I won’t tell him that!” Sirius grinned, wrapping his arms around Remus and shaking him slightly, “He’s a teenager, baby, he’s exploring the realms of language and testing boundaries--”

“They were tested. His brooms on the ground.”

“Fair enough,” grinned Sirius, “I’ll talk to him.”

“Will you?”

“Yes and I will also be getting his permission to use his intellectual property as insults for the politicians I don’t like. I think Lucius Malfoy is a choad-chugger, personally...”

“Sirius.” Remus shoved him lightly, Sirius laughing. Some of the smoke had evaporated from Remus’ ears, his husband now fighting back his own smile, “You’re just as bad.”

“I can’t help it, love. Teenagers are funny.” Sirius grinned, “Remember when we had the swear jar?”

“We still have it!”

“Do we? I stopped putting money in it.”

“So did I but in theory...” Remus sighed, his hands going up to cup Sirius’ face, “The son of James- “Never said worse than oh dear without apologizing for an hour”- is a certified sailor, I think.”

“Yeah.” Sirius nodded, “We...tried?”

“We tried.”

--

..until he dropped his first swear word at three while making pancakes. Get this, Moony thought a swear jar would work. I mean, it could’ve worked...if I had taken it more seriously but...you know me.

He also knows how to swear in three languages so...maybe that’s a bonus as well? I think that makes him officially trilingual, if anyone asks.

We tried our best, mate. I know if you were here you would’ve done a much better job at managing it, and I know Lily would’ve found it hysterical. So, hey, maybe we’re doing her the favor this time.

Tell your Mum sorry for me as well. She always scolded me when I swore.

All things considered though, I think he’s doing okay. I wish you were here to see him fly, Prongs. He’ll be out in the yard until dark, all day flying, not even thinking about it. Smart too. Top of the class in Defense (though I suppose we have Lils to thank for that). 

I wish you were here to see all of it.

If only because I think even you would have a hard time keeping a straight face when he tells Remus’ he’s a “shit-sipping-goblin”. 

And because I miss you every day.

Love always,

Padfoot.

[rphelperblog]

A Serpent and Dove Quote Rp meme

“I was no one's sacrifice. Not then. Not now. Not ever.”

“There are some things that can't be changed with words. Some things have to be seen. They have to be felt.”

Love makes fools of us all, darling.”

“Why the heck is everyone in this kingdom trying to murder my wife?”

“Our lives reflect our hearts.” 

“Death couldn't take him away from me. He was me. Our souls were bound.” 

“Maybe men can learn a thing or two from women.”

No . . . this love was something else. Something irrevocable. It was something of the soul.”

“Such a love was not something of just the heart and mind. It wasn't something to be felt and eventually forgotten, to be touched without it in return touching you.”

“You're to be my wife."

" I suppose that means you'll honor and protect me, then? If we're adhering to the dusty old roles of your patriarchy?"

"Excellent. At least this will be entertaining. I have many enemies.” 

My little heathen.”

“I-I've never seen anyone savor anything the way you do everything. You make me feel alive. Just being in your presence - it's addictive. “

and I swear if they don't kiss soon, I will literally die.” 

Where you go, I will go. Where you stay, I will stay.” 

“Wicked are the ways of women—and especially a witch. Their guile knows no bounds.”

“I never said it was your god. Your god hates women. We were an afterthought.” 

“Un malheur ne vient jamais seul. Misfortune never arrives alone. —French proverb” 

“Idiocy is oft mistaken for sentimentality.

“Death couldn’t take him away from me. He was me. Our souls were bound. Even if he didn’t want me, even if I cursed his name, we were one.” 

“Because you aren't as stupid as you look.”

“There was only one way such a story could end -a stake and a match.

“Ran into the wrong end of a knife.” 

“If there was a God, he or she had a stupid sense of humor.” 

"I assume it involves kicking puppies or stealing the souls of children.” 

“If this woman is to be my wife,you will not touch her again.”

“You're playing with fire here. Sooner or later, you will get burnt.”

"I am a God-fearing Christian woman now--” 

“Our respect had once been mutual. But that was before the envy.” 

“our lives—the way we live, the things we do-they reflect our hearts” 

“Witches and people alike. One and the same. All innocent. All guilty. All dead.” 

“Love is nothing but a disease. This desperation you have to be loved - it is a sickness . . . it consumes you, weakens you.”

“But you should know,that if a man touches me in any way without my permission, I’ll cut him open.”

“I want to thank you- for everything."

I don't deserve you. I made a real mess of your life when I came into it

“Aren’t we all a bit wicked?”

“Yes! I set a warehouse on fire once. One match, and the whole thing went up like a smokestack.”

“You set a building on fire?” 

“not that I ever planned to have a husband. I’d be damned before chaining myself to anyone in marriage.”

"I look divine in everything."

“You’re my wife now, whether we like it or not. No man will ever touch you that way again.” 

“But the flames come first with the Church. Questions second. It’s a dangerous time to be female.”

“If she was destined to burn in Hell, I would burn with her.” 

“Would my soul remember him? “

“I knew who you were. I knew what you believed... and I fell in love with you anyway.” 

“You drink like a man.” 

“Maybe men can learn a thing or two from women.” 

“They might've been hypocrites, but I was the biggest one of them all.”

"I wouldn't, if I were you . . . You'll have nightmares for weeks.”

“Petit à petit, l’oiseau fait son nid. Little by little, the bird makes its nest. —French proverb” 

“From the dawn of time, this has been men’s plight—to be tempted by women.” 

“I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but you need to look in the mirror. There's a special circle in Hell for liars and hypocrites, Your Eminence. Perhaps I'll see you there.” 

“I know you have a filthy mouth."

“Would you, oh brave and virtuous one stick your tongue down my throat and your hands up my skirt? My ass needs grabbing.”

“Her soul would take longer to cleanse than a normal person's.” 

“It’s not illegal, all right? Now move, or I swear to God, I will strip naked right here and dance the bourrée!”

“a wounded animal is a dangerous beast".” 

“There you are, it seemed to say. I didn’t think you’d come. - I promised to love and protect you.” 

“They might've all been hypocrites, but I was the biggest one of all".”

“What else was first love good for but bumbling hands and breathless discovery?” 

“That is love, to give away everything, to sacrifice everything, without the slightest desire to get anything in return.” 

“I won’t let her hurt you again. I’ll protect you. Everything will be all right.”

“I sincerely hope not. But I'd rather not talk about what happened. Not yet."

"And you're used to getting your way. I know you're vulgar and dishonest and manipulative-"

“two are better than one . . . For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falleth, for he hath not another to help him up. And if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him. A threefold cord is not quickly broken.”

“Watching her was strangely exhausting".” 

“You knew I was a snake when you picked me up".” 

“As they are now also your enemies, I must offer a piece of advice: 'tis dangerous to meddle in the affairs of witches. Forget your vengeance. Forget everything you've learned about this world of shadows and magic. You are wildly outmatched and woefully inadequate in the face of these women. Death is the kindest of their torments - a gift bestowed only to those who earned it.” 

“I knew I would remember him. I would feel his abscence even after death, would ache for him to be near me in a way he could never be again. This was my destiny-eternal torment.” 

[sourholland]

A Royal Convienence || Tom Holland

| Series Masterlist |

Part One

Summary → When an alliance is made between England and France, you are sent away to marry the crown prince and heir to the British throne. Except both you and Prince Thomas despise each other at all odds, subjected to the hand of the monarchy and unable to stand each other.

AN → I’m so excited for this, I honestly thought it’d be out a little sooner but whatever.

Pairing(s) → Prince!Tom x Princess!Reader

Warnings → None

Word Count → 1.8k

Word of the royal engagement had spread quickly, not only by mouth, but through the newspapers as well.

Prince Thomas of Wales and Princess Y/N of France would be married in the spring. Only six weeks awaiting the royal wedding where the crown prince would marry the firstborn princess of France. Rumors of His Majesty, King Dominic’s ill health thickened the air, leaving the country to wonder if the reason for the sudden alliance was perhaps in favor of the succession of the eldest prince.

“Your Royal Highness,” the man bowed his head as you stepped from the ship onto the dock.

You lifted your gloved hand to his outstretched fingers, helping you onto the grass. The clouds hung grayly in the sky, droplets of rain threatening to spill. The man guided you to the carriage not far from where you’d disembarked. He was clearly a member of the royal guard, dressed stiffly and talking very little. You couldn’t tell if this was due to your status or the requirements he was to adhere to.

The inside of the carriage was decorated richly, plush bench seats accompanied by satin curtains of gold. You were tempted to reach over and touch them, retracting your hand when the carriage jerked and began to move through the crowded streets of London.

You were exhausted, hardly sleeping on the journey from France. You’d been unable to keep down any food, seasick and lethargic the whole way. You hadn’t been able to freshen up, assuming that your hair which had been pulled back was a mess by now. You also hadn’t been afforded the luxury of taking your ladies with you, some of which had been with you since you were a girl. This was making things like lacing your own corset considerably more difficult.

The whole way to Buckingham Palace had gone by rather fast, the scenery passing you by reduced to blurs in your memory. It was a much different atmosphere than that of France, or at least what you’d been allowed to see of it. You spent most of your early life being taught how to rule a country, being the heir to the throne until you reached the age of fourteen. Your mother, the Queen Consort Marie, had finally produced a son, an heir, a male to take the throne once the king died.

This day, the day when your brother Prince Louis was born, had been one of the most dreadful days of your life. Everything you’d been working towards, learning about, being trained for, was stripped away from you. After that, you’d been reduced to what it seemed every woman was around you, aristocracy or not, an object of marriage.

Some years later, you would be called into the throne room and told by your father that you would be wed to the Crown Prince of England. You’d only met Prince Thomas once before, at the English Duke’s wedding when you were only twelve years old. He had been only fourteen, unbothered and unfazed by your presence. From what you recalled, your encounter with him had been less than pleasant.

You’d made several attempts to speak with the Prince throughout the night, taking your mother’s words of encouragement. He brushed you off every time, once telling you that he did not care for the French, nor your way of approaching the ‘next King of England.’

“Ma’am.”

You were brought away from your thoughts at the man’s words, your head rising from its place at the wall of the carriage. You glanced out the window, the large palace greeting you. You remembered nothing of coming through the gates, or even seeing the Buckingham Palace for the first time.

You stepped out, flattening your skirts with your palms and doing the best with your hair. You couldn’t imagine how improper you’d probably looked, your stomach churning at the thought of walking through the doors of the palace.

The walk from the carriage to the set of doors that led you into the large entryway was short. The walls were covered in rich fabrics, candles lighting each walkway. The guards accompanying you remained silent, the sound of your shoes against the fine carpet in your ears. You remembered your governess, the way she’d always remind you that a princess never slouched. The straightening of your back and extra spry in your step helped you to gain back a bit of confidence.

Through what felt like dozens of twists and turns, the tallest guard was pushing open two large doors. You stepped in wearily, recognizing it as the throne room. You suddenly became very aware of your appearance, the way you must be an absolute mess.

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N of France,” he announced to the room.

You walked before the throne and gave a deep curtsy to both King Dominic and Queen Nicola. You met each of their eyes nervously, you knew it was wrong to look for any bit of illness in the king, unable to help yourself from noticing his paleness and sunken in eyes.

“Your Majesties,” you addressed.

“Why, I haven’t seen you since you were a girl,” she remarked. “Of course, then you were to be the Queen of France. And now—well, there’s Prince Louis, correct?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” you answered with a twinge of bitterness. “My brother should take the throne some day.”

King Dominic’s eyes scanned over you promptly, looking for any imperfection, any flaw to point out. This wasn’t odd behavior of a king, yet it still seemed to make you stammer over your words.

“You’ve grown very beautifully, I’m glad of this,” she added. “We’ve had portraits sent over, however, I will say that you are a fine-looking girl.”

There was no sign of the Prince, nor his younger brothers. It was only the king and the queen that occupied the throne room. You felt almost relieved of this, not wishing to see any more people in your current state. You also dreaded your imminent fate, a vow of marriage to a man you hardly knew, let alone could stand.

The large doors opened once more, revealing the eldest Prince, behind him were the twins, and next was the youngest. Prince Thomas held a blank expression, his eyes not yet meeting your own as he walked with his brothers to bow at his parents feet.

“Thomas, I’m sure you remember Y/N,” his mother said, motioning towards you.

His gaze fell on you, his eyes dipping from the cream colored skirts that swayed at your feet, to the mess of hair falling into your face slightly. His hair was slicked back and styled, the embroidery on his tunic rich and in season. His eyes darkened, a look of disdain flashing for a moment.

“I do, mum, I quite clearly recall us being introduced at cousin George’s wedding a few years back,” he answered.

He forced a grin, looking to his mother for approval. She went on about wedding preparations, dining plans, and which wing of the castle your chamber would be. It didn’t take long for you to realize how much of a rambler Queen Nicola truly was. You could only blame it on her longing for a daughter, and the fact that this was the first wedding she’d be able to orchestrate for one of her sons.

“Tomorrow you’ll meet me to choose an engagement ring, then to tea where your Ladies in Waiting will be,” she spoke modestly. “It’s far too late to do anything this evening. Though, I’m sure a chaperone could be arranged if you and Tom wished to speak for a time privately.”

“That won’t be necessary, mum. It’s quite late, I’m sure the Princess would rather retire to her chamber for the night,” the Prince interrupted. Good, you thought. You had no desire to be anywhere near Thomas, not now, and definitely not for what was playing out to be the rest of your miserable life.

“Ma’am,” you started. “Do excuse me if I’m incorrect, however, I thought Prince Thomas should have been the one to choose an engagement ring?” You asked, a snort came from Tom, a dismissive look from the Queen following. He grimaced as his younger brother, Prince Sam, you assumed, had elbowed him in the ribs.

“Well—yes, you are correct. Traditionally, if you and Thomas had courted, and then he’d gone to your father for his blessing, he would have chosen an engagement ring once you agreed to have him. This is not a traditional engagement, though. You’ll look through some of our most precious jewels, I assure you, Y/N.”

You felt your face heat up at her words, drowning out the last of her speech and curtsying again as she and the king left the room. The three younger Princes followed suit, Tom stopped at the archway for a moment. A servant most likely waited behind those slightly ajar doors, ready to escort you to your chambers.

“Princess,” your title lingered on his lips.

“Prince Thomas, can I help you?”

“I wish you would not refer to me as Thomas, that god awful name is reserved for my mother,” he said shortly. “Tom will do fine.”

“Prince Tom, then. Is there a reason you’ve stayed back? We shouldn’t be alone in here,” you had only been in the palace a short time and the last thing you wanted was a scandal.

His expression was not endearing in the least, he looked burdened by you. His jaw was set, his eyes malice, the curl of his lip in disgust. You took in a breath, mimicking his body language and going to pass him out into the hall. You were caught off guard by the jerking of your forearm, his hand grasping at it harshly and pulling you much closer to his face than you had been before.

“If this is what I must do for my country then so be it, however, do not think for a second that I would ever willingly marry someone like you,” he cursed, leaning in so close that you could feel his cool breath on your skin.

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual,” you said, looking him dead in the eyes. The weight of his words stung like a blade, his expression like pouring salt into an open wound.

“Well then, something we can agree on.”

You yanked away from him, brushing off his grasp and looking up at him with narrowed-eyes. He gritted his teeth as you flattened the fabric of your skirts once more before you left the large room in a fleeting motion.

taglist- @justapurrcat @witchyartemis @keithseabrook27 @clara-licht @dummiesshort @username2002 @imaginationisgrowth @nova-sup3r

[spxllcxstxr]

Being Regulus Black’s Younger Sister (Version 1 - Slytherin) • Headcanon

Warnings: body insecurity and eating mention, forced eating restrictions, canon child abuse and neglect by Walburga Black, Barty Crouch Jr makes an appearance

Request: Hey maybe you could do a regulus x younger sister headcanons or fix really whatever you want to do 💖 — @nicole198205

A.N: I honestly loved writing Black sister reader...this was so fun and if you liked it too and want like a real blurb or something based on any of these bullet points, you should request it. Hope you all enjoy and I love you all ❤️

Being the only girl in 12 Grimmauld Place means that you got treated differently than your brothers

Not nicer, by any means

Different in a way that meant your mother was constantly fussing over your appearance and making sure you acted “ladylike”

When you were little it was nice

You got to spend alone time with your mother in your room, she would brush your hair and pick out frilly and elegant dresses

Sure, sometimes she would purposefully tug a little too hard on your hair causing you to yelp, but it wasn’t a big deal

Eventually, though, your mother got rougher, these mother-daughter times turning into torturous hours where she’d make snippy comments about your weight and how you should appear to certain men

You weren’t even ten years old and she was already arranging your marriage to a man that, according to the Black Family Tapestry in the Drawing Room, was a distant relative

Sure she bought you dresses, and heels, and jewels, but they weren’t for you to enjoy and it wasn’t out of love or kindness

She needed you perfect for marriage

You always ran to Regulus’ room for comfort and he was always happy to listen to you vent

“If Bella, and Cissy, and Andy can deal with it, (Y/n), so can you. You’re just as strong as they are.”

You were always closer to Regulus, maybe because he was closer to you in age or because he wasn’t as rough or brash as Sirius

While Sirius taught you curse words, Regulus taught you prose and poetry

When Sirius went off to Hogwarts, the two of you got even closer

Your mother got worse when she found out that her eldest son was sorted into Gryffindor

She had a fit that day, one that consisted of her throwing pots and pans at the walls, shattering ancient artifacts, and tearing at her own hair

You and Regulus, frightened little children, hid in his closet waiting for your father to come home to calm her down

The two of you clutched each other tight, not daring to even make a noise, scared that you might be the next thing she breaks

You and Regulus weren’t allowed to say your brother’s name and all letters were snatched away and thrown into the fireplace

He was even banned from coming home for Christmas break

The two of you were dragged to even more family gatherings and balls

You particularly were forced to split your time between hanging out and learning from the other girls and presenting yourself to the boys

At night, you would sneak into your brother’s room, seeking comfort

You would talk about Sirius and how you can’t wait to get to Hogwarts

“Hogwarts’ll be different, (Y/n). No more screaming and family obligations...” He would smile, listening to a rogue sneakoscope whir in a drawer

“You’re forgetting something, Reg.” You’d sigh. “I’ll have to be on my own for a whole year before I can join you guys.”

“Well maybe mother will let you read my letters, and I can sneak in some of what Sirius wants to tell you.”

Sirius was different when he came back home for the summer

He wasn’t afraid to push your mother’s buttons a bit harder and he certainly wasn’t afraid to run his mouth a bit more

Sirius talked like the outside world like it was the best thing ever

And while you were curious about Hogwarts and the many different sorts of people that attended, your mother made it pretty clear pretty quick that even associating yourself with your older brother was worthy of some sort of punishment

And as much as you loved Sirius, you loved playing it safe even more

You didn’t outright ignore him, you did talk to him about Bella’s new boyfriend and the new quill your father bought you

But more often than not, you were with Regulus, enjoying the time you had left together

The night before Regulus had to leave for Hogwarts, you came crying into his room

“Don’t cry, sœur, it’ll be quite alright.” He would whisper in your ear, rocking you back and forth in his arm (sœur is sister in French)

But your etiquette lessons got harder and your mother got stricter, trying to make you a Perfect Slytherin Princess

Your mother was overjoyed when she got a letter saying how Regulus was sorted into Slytherin

She gave you a glass of wine (“Because that’s what ladies drink, (Y/n)!”) and told you that Regulus was a perfect role model

Regulus sent letters every week, detailing his classes and the people in his year

He made fast friends with a Bartimus Crouch Jr

He told you how Sirius would barely talk to him in the corridors ever since the sorting

Regulus would say a quick hello and Sirius would always reply, but the older brother never went out of his way to leave his friend group for a chat

Regulus would write paragraphs about why this could be before settling on the fact that it’s because of the house difference

Sirius only sent a few letters home and each time they were burnt to ash in front of you

So Regulus was your only outlet

You would tell him about how mother was starting to restrict your meals and starting to squeeze you into dresses far too small

He would offer you comforting words and distractions by talking about school, as it was far too difficult to actually help your situation through a letter

Regulus didn’t come home for Christmas break, claiming that exams were stressing him out, especially Herbology, so he’d rather continue his studies in a school environment

So that’s how the rest of your year goes

Regulus is...different when he gets back for the summer

It’s a very slight change, you’re pretty sure you’re the only one who notices

But it’s there

A bit more reserved, a bit more secretive

Childish wonder disappearing

He no longer publicly acts afraid of your mother

“It’s Sirius’ fault he’s got grounded, (Y/n). He broke a rule, now he’s facing the consequences.”

“But Reg, he didn’t do anything wrong—“

“(Y/n)! Are you trying to encourage the downfall of the Noble House of Black?!”

And that was it

But finally you were off to Hogwarts

Regulus lets you sit with him and Barty, who wears expensive shoes like you and Reg and had a slight tic with sticking his tongue out

But he was nice nonetheless less

Turns out, they were the outcasts of the outcasts

You were welcome to join when you are sorted into Slytherin

They were sure that you were going to be sorted there already

And you were dreading it

What if you weren’t a Slytherin and ended up like Sirius?

You could barely handle your family now, there’s no way you’d be able to take the extra shit Sirius gets

The hat gives you a choice

The worst choice possible

Gryffindor or Slytherin

You end up with a hatstall of 8 minutes, constantly looking between your brothers

And you beg to be placed in Slytherin

And so you join your brother and Barty at the table of the snakes

Sirius doesn’t look at you across the Great Hall

“Hey, Reg? Did the hat give you a choice too?”

“A choice between what?”

“Slytherin and Gryffindor.”

“Don’t tell anyone you got a choice. Listen, people in this house are brutal to people like you who get choices. Don’t mention it.”

“You didn’t answer my question—“

And he never does

You spend all of your time with Regulus and Barty, the other kids in your year are kinda major assholes

Regulus helps you with your homework, always making time for you

Meet ups in the library

Chess in the common room

Barty was usually with you as well

And that’s how it goes over the next few years

Even when Regulus is busy with his own classes and him being a seeker, he’ll make time for you

You always attend his matches, cheering him on

He’s a great seeker

In your fifth year, you notice how Reg and Barty change drastically

Pulling away from you, secret meetings, dark depictions and phrases hidden in notebooks

You get worried

For the first time ever you push your way through the Marauders to talk to your brother

“Oh, the Slytherin Princess arrives! Want us to bow?” He snarks, his friends laughing

“Piss off, Sirius! It’s about Reg.”

“What about him? Did he finally stop kissing Walburga’s arse?”

“It isn’t a laughing matter!” You’re practically in tears

And he listens to you as you explain all of your concerns and he ends up agreeing that that is worrisome

“What the hell did you tell Sirius?” Regulus shouts at you in the empty common room one night

“I’m worried, Reg! You’re going all dark, like what mother wants! This isn’t you!”

“This is me, believe it or not, (Y/n)! I’m not some puppet!” He shouts at you.

“Just wait, (Y/n), you’re next. Next year, it’ll be you. You can’t escape it.”

“Sirius got out of it.” You mumble

Regulus storms out and that’s the last real conversation you have with him and Barty for a long time

You get a letter from him when you graduate, something you have to hide away from your brother and the rest of the Order

Forgive me, sœur,

RAB

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

Regulus Taglist: @lunalovecroft

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐄𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐔 [𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐙𝐄𝐌𝐎]

PAIRINGS — Helmut Zemo x fem!reader [pre-ultron]

SUMMARY — Helmut meets an intriguing stranger on a beach in France and is determined to make sure their lives stay connected

WARNINGS — major character death, angst, sadness, it's happy until it's not (also not a warning but chou chou is pronounced shoo shoo)

NOTE — okay guys I said I wasn't gonna do it and I did and I have ideas for more sjsjsjs I'm so sorry also I know in the canon-verse Zemo's son's name is Carl, but I changed it to fit with the plot I wrote. Also the reader is 'French' but doesn't have to be considered white (just grew up in France) :)

August 2000

The first time you met Helmut Zemo was something one might peg as unusual. Especially since the young Baron really shouldn't have been wandering around the unfamiliar town alone, without the knowledge of his mother or father, but he figured he'd have a chance to ask for their forgiveness, but the chance to go to the warm beaches of southern France on a day like this? That chance wouldn't come for another little while.

He found a nice empty spot, slightly tucked away from the crowds of people where he could easily lay down a blanket and open a book (or three) and listen to some music. He preferred classical while he was reading.

The sun beating down on his back was relaxing, that warm feeling that would spread from where the sun hit to every extremity, transporting you to another place, perhaps the location of where the story he was reading was taking place, but who knew.

Only a brief fifty pages in (it was a Dan Brown novel, the pages were small and quite easy to flip through), he heard a muffled voice, saying something that sounded an awful lot like excusez moi.

Zemo looked up and was met with a smile and bright (e/c) eyes. He lowered his headphones from his ears, almost unconsciously reciprocating the smile you were giving.

"Pardon monsieur, est-ce que ça vous dérangerait si je m'assois ici?"

He blinked a few times, shaking out of his daze,

"I-I'm so sorry," he apologized. "My french is.. Um térrible?" he attempted to say and you gave him a small laugh.

"Don't worry, you try, that's all that matters. I was just asking if you would mind me sitting here," you pointed to the empty patch of sand next to him. "I normally come here to read, it's further away from the crowds,"

"O-Of course," he nodded. "Seems we had the same idea,"

He held up his book and you smiled, pulling yours out of your bag, but as it would have turned out, not one minute of your time on the beach was spent reading. Instead you were deeply engrossed in conversation with this foreign man, speaking of his country, Sokovia, a beautiful place from what he told you, so lively with its people, so full and rich with culture.

You weren't sure how many hours had passed when you heard the frantic call of a man and a woman, running up to you both, cursing in their mother tongue, hearts filled with worry.

Zemo quickly stood up and spoke to the couple, calming them down and requesting that they give him a moment from what you could tell.

He came back to you and took your hands in his, staring deeply into your eyes.

"I'm afraid I must leave," he confessed. "But this time that I have spent here with you, it is one that I will cherish,"

"Will I ever see you again?"

You knew it sounded cheesy the minute you said it, but that didn't stop it from leaving your mouth.

"I don't know," he admitted honestly. "So for now we can say à la prochaine ma chérie,"

You found yourself quietly repeating the goodbye while he lifted your hands to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to them before taking one last look into your eyes and turning around to walk with the couple who continued to scold him like he was a young child and not an adult himself.

And much contrary to your thinking, that was not the last time you would see the man who you would eventually come to learn was Helmut Zemo.

—

November 2000

It was a long shot, sure, but he had to try. Four months and he couldn't get those (e/c) eyes off his mind.

He had packed his bags already, sitting antsy on the plane, just waiting for it to take off and bring him back to Nice. Back to you.

It took less than an hour to get there and as soon as he touched the ground he ran out of the airport and back to the old city quarter.

He didn't expect to find you at the beach, definitely not at this time of year, but maybe a cafe, or a bookstore. He was working with a gut feeling and for now he just had to trust it.

After briskly walking through the streets, checking any store that looked like it sold books, peeking his head into small corner cafes and even looking down alleyways things were not looking up. It was getting dark and he was going to call it in for the night, afterall, who would be out this late, when suddenly he heard a quiet gasp. So faint if it weren't already dead silent in the street he would have missed it.

The click of boots against the cobblestone was distinct and when he spun around to meet the sound he came face to face with bright shining hopeful eyes. The same eyes from that day on the beach.

"You came back," you whispered, a smile dancing across your lips.

"Of course. I had to see you again,"

"You don't even know my name," you chuckled lightly.

"And you don't know mine, what difference does it make? I came here for you, not for your name,"

"I would like to call you something though, and I have a feeling there's something you're holding back. Is there a reason you don't wish for me to know what to call you?"

He carefully slipped his hands in yours, the only difference from that day back in August was the lack of summer heat and the mittens that protected your fingers from the cold.

"I worry that you may look at me differently. Rather like a title than just a person," he confessed.

"And yet you tell me these things because you know that can't be true," you said without a falter in your tone. "You wouldn't have said that if you didn't trust me,"

"Let me hear your name first," he said.

"It's (Y/N)," you smiled. "(Y/N) (L/N),"

You said your name like it was nothing special but you didn't care because you loved it. He liked that.

"Now your turn," you said softly, lifting a gloved hand to carefully move a few strands of hair out of his face.

"Helmut Zemo,"

You knew the name, it was something most people in Europe recognized at least. But he didn't want attention drawn to it so you wouldn't draw attention to it.

"I like that name," you nodded. "I like it very much,"

"Really?' he asked with a quiet laugh.

"Yes, it sounds French," you teased.

Glancing over at the clock tower you noticed the late hour and turned your face back to his in inquiry.

"Do you have a place to stay tonight?" you asked.

"I could," he nodded. "It would be quite easy for me to get a hotel, but I currently do not have one,"

"Then stay with me," you suggested. "You don't wish for me to think of you as different, then come, prove to me you're not different,"

And without a moment's hesitation he let you take his hand, guiding him out of the dark alley and towards an old building, repurposed as apartments.

Definitely a different pace than what he was used to. The private jets, the manors, the estates, but that didn't matter. No, it never mattered with you.

—

May 2002

Going to Zemo's house was definitely not what you had imagined. Even though you had prepared yourself for his family's wealth and riches that did not compare to what you were met with.

"I can't believe I haven't been here yet," you looked around curiously at the old art hanging from the walls.

"I'm sure you can see why that's been the case," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"El I'm your best friend I don't care if you live in a manor or a box, now come on, take me to the library we both know that's what you really want to show me,"

"H-How did you know there was a-,"

"Just a hunch," you grinned, linking your arm with his and allowing him to lead you down the large hallway until you reached two french doors, spanning from the floor to the ceiling, opening one and slipping in with much ease.

You gasped at the sight before you, books lining every shelf, and every inch of the wall was covered. it was like a maze, but the best kind because you could also get lost in words.

"I'm assuming you want to stay here and pick something out to read don't you," he chuckled.

"Could we?" you asked. "There's so many to pick from,"

"Half of them are in Sokovian so it narrows down your search a bit," he shrugged.

"Half of a million is still five-hundred-thousand," you retorted and walked further into the library, grazing your fingers across one shelf and picking up a random book and sitting on one of the colonial era couches.

Zemo only chuckled at your comfort with the place, of course there were books and if there were books you'd be at home.

"Haven't you read that one already?" he asked, taking a seat next to you.

You nodded. "Seems as though the fates wished for me to read it again," you shrugged. "Plus it's a favourite, I would have gotten around to it some time or another."

"Of course you would have," he playfully rolled his eyes.

It was probably about a half an hour before he started to get fidgety, frequently changing his seating position and flipping through books, but not reading them.

"'Elmut what do you want?" you asked quietly, your eyes never leaving the words on the page.

He loved the way you said his name, it was the only time your accent ever really showed, but those h's would always be a struggle (not that he minded).

"Well clearly you want something," you closed the book and placed it to the side. "Come on, what is it?"

"Your attention?" he said with a cheeky smile and you scoffed with a chuckle, waving him off, moving to grab your book when he grabbed you by your sides, tickling you mercilessly and preventing you from reaching any further, squirming and laughing under his grasp.

"El! Arrête!" you squealed, falling with your back to the couch, his bright smiling face looking down at your own.

Finally he stopped and your laughter gently faded, noticing the way he was looking at you. Eyes sparkling with admiration, like there was nothing else in the world he'd rather look at then your smiling face.

But you felt the exact same so when he leaned down you didn't stop him, letting his lips gently fall on your own, his smooth uncalloused hands gently holding your face, bringing you up closer so he could really kiss you, like he meant it.

It felt like that burning feeling of the sun shining on his back back on the beach in Nice, but the fire was in his heart and it was spreading through every artery and vein. He was Icarus and you were the sun.

The look in his eyes when he pulled away, seeing your smile grow, tenfold if possible and the words left his mouth before he had a moment to think.

"Marry me?"

"Marry you?" you chuckled. "'Elmut isn't that a bit premature?"

"We've known each other long enough, I spend every spare second I can with you. My parents-they love you, I just... Will you marry me?" he asked again, like he was more sure of the question.

You bit your lip, taking his face in your hands and nodding your head.

"Yes, I'll marry you,"

He firmly pressed his lips to yours again, over and over again, like he was making up for all the time he could have been doing that.

"El!" you said, your voice muffled through the kisses. "Are you going to let me get up?"

"Right," he chuckled nervously, helping you sit back up on the couch before kissing you once more. "Sorry," he apologized. "I couldn't help myself,"

"It's okay the feeling is very much mutual," you grinned. "Now come on, I think we have some news to share,"

—

September 2003

Although Zemo knew your marriage was the happiest moment of both your lives, he also knew that becoming accustomed to the life of a Baroness was something that would take time. The dinners, galas, special outings with connected people, at times it could be overwhelming, but he'd be lying if he didn't say you were doing it well.

Even though you were born to a middle class family that could be found down on their luck on occasion, it was almost like you were meant for the life that came with your marriage. He had never met anyone as elegant, graceful, or poised as yourself, and yet always ready and willing to help others, able to sympathize and empathize with them.

He never wished for the spotlight to be on you, but you insisted on being right there by his side, never complaining, always with that same smile on your face.

"(Y/N) my dear, looking ravishing as always," the elder Zemo grinned, pulling his daughter-in-law into a warm embrace, kissing her cheek.

"Papa you always flatter me," you chuckled. "Have you seen El by any chance? We were supposed to go for a walk in the city today,"

"I believe he was out by the door. But please be careful when you go out there, things are getting tense I don't want either of you getting hurt,"

"The people don't have any quarrel with us, trust me. And we want to help, I'm sure we'll be able to do some good today,"

"You're an angel my dear," he gave you a soft smile and held your hand, bringing it to his lips for a sweet kiss. "Now go find your husband, he's probably waiting for you,"

"Of course," you nodded, walking in the direction of the front doors of the manor seeing Zemo sitting on one of the benches, lacing up his Italian leather shoes. "Fine taste as usual," you chuckled.

"There you are," he smiled, looking up at you. "I was wondering when you were going to come join me,"

"I got caught up talking to Papa," you explained and he nodded, smiling quietly to himself when he heard the endearing pet name for his father. Not even he called him anything of the sort, but you were just that way with people, forming a special bond and relationship wherever you went.

"Alright, I'm ready," he stood up and came over to you pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "And goodmorning, it's been a while since we've spent time,"

"And whose fault is that?" you asked, crossing your arms. "Oh it's just one meeting my darling, I'll be back soon," you mimicked your husband and he shook his head, taking your hand in his and walking out of the door and to the car that he would drive into the city where you planned to take your walk.

While you were driving down the smoothly paved streets Zemo looked at you, tilting his head slightly.

"Would you like to go visit the orphanage today?" he asked.

"Could we?" you asked. "It's been a while, I'd love to spend some time with the children,"

"Of course," he nodded, taking your hand in his and holding it in his lap while he kept his eyes on the road, now aware of what your destination would be. "I love you chou chou you know that right?"

You nodded, straightening out your dress and coat.

"I love you too El," you gave him a thin-lipped smile. "My Baron,"

"Don't forget that when the news calls you to come in for an interview hein?" he joked and you chuckled as he pulled into the parking space out of the old slightly run down building.

"Do you think there's any way we can help refurbish the place?" you asked.

"Are you really going to make me spoil a surprise I had planned for you?" he asked, stepping out of the car and shutting the door behind him, resting his arms on the roof and placing his chin on top of them.

"A surprise? El now you have to tell me," you gasped playfully.

"It was going to be your Christmas present. I bought a piece of land and we're building a new orphanage there,"

You couldn't help yourself, running over to his side of the car, while he turned to face you and pulled him in for a firm kiss, like a thank you, only that was interrupted by one of the matrons speaking in Sokovian.

"Baron Zemo? Madame Baroness, we weren't expecting you today,"

You quickly pulled apart, gingerly wiping your lips and staring down at the ground in embarrassment.

"It wasn't planned Miss, please don't worry too much," Zemo assured her. "The children though, would they enjoy a visit?"

"Of course, they always look forward to seeing the both of you," she nodded, opening the door wider and allowing them to come inside.

You had been here plenty of times before, already familiar with the place and knew every turn like the back of your hand.

"Madame Baroness you came back!" a child exclaimed, speaking in his mother tongue which with the many hours of free time you had on your hands were starting to become fluent in, running up to your feet and tackling you in a hug.

"What do you mean? Of course I did Alexi," you chuckled, squatting down despite your high heeled shoes and ruffling the boy's hair, pulling him in for a proper hug. "Now why don't you go grab the others and let's see if I can get the Baron to read you a story,"

The boy nodded his head and ran off to go gather some of the children who were scattered around various rooms while you looked up at your husband.

"Would you read them one?" you asked. "I can speak the language alright but we both know my reading needs work,"

"You don't even have to ask, my love, and we can practice later," he nodded.

"Wonderful," you smiled, standing up and helping Alexi settle down and gather the rest of the children. You saw two teens, the twins, helping a few of the younger children, but staying off to the side. "Wanda, Pietro," you gave them gentle smiles. "Come on, we want you here with us too,"

They meekly came over and sat next to you as instructed while your husband picked out a book to read.

"I know they're children's stories but we can all enjoy them sometimes no?"

Wanda nodded and smiled at you while you put an arm around her shoulder.

"You're a very beautiful young girl Wanda I think you're going to grow up and do big things,"

"R-Really?" she asked, almost surprised.

"Yes, really," you poked her shoulder lightly. "Mark my words, you're a special one,"

Spending time with the children at the orphanage was like seeing your second family and you always dreaded having to leave them.

You wanted families for all of them, places they could call home with people to love them unconditionally.

But after leaving there it always got you thinking about your own life. Where you wanted it to go and what you wanted to happen.

"'Elmut?" you asked softly, glancing up at your husband while you walked the quiet streets downtown.

"Yes my darling?" he hummed.

"What do you think about children? For us, I mean. Would you... Do you want children?"

There wasn't a moment of hesitation when he nodded his head,

"Do you?"

"I think I do, yes," you nodded. "Maybe we should start trying?"

"I think that's an amazing idea," he agreed.

"Another Baron, someone to carry on the line," you joked knowing very well he didn't care for that type of thing. His family was far from traditional in quite a few ways.

And suddenly for the first time in a while on your walk you talked about something other than the endless meetings and social gatherings that required your attendance. All that mattered was your growing family and a new addition that would hopefully make an appearance soon.

—

December 2005

"What's his name?" the children asked, hovering around you, trying to catch a glimpse of the sleeping baby.

"Henri," you told them, making sure they each got a turn to see him.

Zemo even had one kid on each hip, peering down from over top.

"The same name as my father," you explained to them. "In French we spell the name with an H but we say it like on-ree,"

"Baron Zemo isn't your given name Helmut?" Pietro asked and he nodded.

"I told her we didn't need another H name she couldn't say, but she wouldn't listen," he joked and you lightly slapped his arm.

"Je t'ai dit qu'on ne prononce pas les H, ce n'est pas ma faute," (I told you we don't pronounce the H's, it's not my fault!)

"I know, I'm only teasing," he assured you.

He still loved the way you'd say his name. That would never change.

"Now that you have a baby will you come less?" Nikola asked, looking up somewhat sadly at you.

"For a little while I'm afraid so," you nodded. "But when Henri gets older we'll bring him back so you can play with him,"

"But who's gonna read us stories if you go?" Carmen asked, directing her attention to the Baron.

"Well Pietro here can make sure you guys have your stories until we can come back more often, huh?" he suggested.

"You know it won't be the same sir," Pietro chuckled.

"It's alright, you've listened to them enough I'm sure you can imitate me by now,"

"Just let me borrow one of your coats and we're golden,"

"Pietro!" Wanda scolded and nudged her brother in the stomach.

"No, no it's alright. That was funny, you keep cracking jokes like that, it can get gloomy in here,"

"Yes sir," Pietro nodded.

Henri started to rustle and Zemo quickly put the two children he was holding down to take his son from you, gently bouncing him up and down and trying to coerce him into going back to bed.

"You know he's not going to go back to sleep unless he sees his grandfather," you smoothed out your skirt and stood up. "So I'm sorry, but I think this means we have to go,"

"It's okay, it's only for a little while," Wanda assured the children. "They'll be back. they always come back,"

You nodded at that with a smile and blew kisses to the little ones, leaving out the front of the two year old facility.

There were a few cameras, the media wanting a sneak peek at the new baby, but you were thankful it wasn't overwhelming. It had only been a few weeks and you were still trying to get used to things.

Henri was clipped safely in the back seat and you went to sit with him while Zemo drove back to the estate, his father anxiously awaiting your return in the dining room.

"There's my little Henri," he grinned, taking the baby from your arms and rocking him back into a calm state like he was some sort of magician.

"How do you do that Papa?" you asked curiously. "El and I try so hard to get him down sometimes but you just come in and voilà!"

"Well if you're looking for someone to blame look more further than right there," he pointed to his son whose eyes only grew wide. "Helmut was the fussiest baby, refused to sleep,"

"And still does sometimes," you jabbed.

"Anyways, practice makes perfect. You'll get a hang of it soon enough and before you know it you'll be doing the same for your grandchildren," he explained. "Now why don't you both get some rest you look exhausted. I'll take care of this one for the next little bit,"

"Thank you Papa," you sighed gratefully, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before heading up to your bedroom with your husband.

No matter what anyone would say, you would always agree that the best feeling was taking off the slightly uncomfortable expensive clothes at the end of a long day and toss them to the side on the couch and curl up in something warm and fuzzy (on occasion one of Zemo's sweaters would do the trick, this being one of them).

"I just want to sleep," you yawned, flopping onto the large, plushy bed, not noticing your husband was already buried under the pillows.

"Ow," he chuckled lightly and you apologized, moving slightly but allowing him to hold you close, pressing a long soft kiss to your lips. "I love you chou chou,"

"Is that the only French thing you're gonna learn how to say?" you asked skeptically.

"Who knows maybe one day I'll learn more, but for now I think chou chou is enough," he yawned.

"Whatever," you mumbled, tucking your face in the crook of his neck, resting comfortably and not wasting even another second before drifting off into the most restful sleep you'd had that month.

—

March 2011

"El? Are you in here?" you asked knocking on the door to his office, the door clicking as you carefully opened it.

"Hmm? Do you need something (Y/N)?" he asked, looking up from the papers in front of him.

"No, but is it too early to go to bed?" you asked unclipping your earrings and placing them on the table on the far wall before slipping off your shoes and tossing them aside.

"It's only three in the afternoon," he chuckled, watching you curiously as you came closer to him. He pushed his chair away from his desk and you sat yourself down on his lap, laying your head against his chest.

"I know, but I had to do a lot of running around today,"

"Won't Henri be home from school soon?" he asked.

"He should...can you wake me up when he gets here? I'm just going to close my eyes," you said your voice becoming more drowsy as you went on.

"Just rest my love," he pressed a kiss to your head and held you with one arm while the other continued to scribble down notes from the books he was reading.

Not even ten minutes later he could hear the patter of small feet running around u gil they finally slowed down and the door peaked open and a small tuft of brown hair became visible.

"Papa can I come in?" Henri asked and Zemo nodded, motioning for his son to come closer with his free hand. He climbed up on the seat across from his desk and, as per his usual routine grabbed the coloured pencils he left there and started to draw a picture on the notepad.

"Did you have a good day at school?"

"Uh huh," he nodded his head. "Why is mama sitting in your lap,"

"She's just tired," he whispered. "What are you drawing today?" he asked, leaning forward and examining the paper.

It seemed to be a photo of your family, down by the beach on a sunny day.

"Mama said one day she's going to take me to France and we can go to the beach,"

"The beach, of course!" he nodded. "And maybe your grandfather can teach you how to swim,"

Henri grinned and agreed, eagerly finishing up his drawing and looking up at the jar of candies on his father's desk. Zemo always had a sweet tooth and that definitely was passed onto your son.

"Papa, can I have a candy?" he asked, pouting his lower lip and pointing to the jar. He really knew how to get what he wanted.

"Don't tell your mother," he said softly, opening the glass container and pulling out a few wrapped candies to hand to Henri when you gently stopped him by laying a hand on top of his own.

"Only one El, we have to eat dinner soon," you murmured and he conceded with a nod, handing the candy to Henri who popped it into his mouth before dropping down out of the seat and coming over to you, pressing a gentle sweet kiss on your cheek as a thank you. "I love you mon p'ti," you whispered, eyes fluttering open while you fixed your son's messy hair.

"I love you too mama," he grinned.

"Turkish delight?" you asked and he nodded. "You and your father and all these candies. What am I going to do with you,"

"Don't listen to her Henri," Zemo chuckled, quickly grabbing a few more candies and putting them in his hand, "Quick run! I'll keep her here,"

Henri ran out of the room in a fit of childish giggles, no doubt going to find his grandfather who would protect him at all costs.

"El! I'm going to kill you!" you tried to squirm out of his hold but he only laughed, holding you tighter and silencing your complaints with a firm kiss. "He's not going to eat a proper dinner 'Elmut," you whined, your voice muffled by his lips on yours.

"He's only a kid once, let the boy have some fun, my love,"

"Fine," you grumbled.

"Come on, I can make it up to you I promise," he assured.

"Keep talking Zemo, we'll see if you can sweet talk your way out of this,"

"I'll take the weekend off," he started. "My father can look after Henri and it could be just you and me in the middle of the Austrian Alps with nothing but each other to keep us warm,"

"If you think the cold mountains sound appealing-,"

"(Y/N) there's a cabin I didn't mean-oh forget it," he laughed. "Come on, it's been a while since we've had a getaway, just the two of us,"

"You mean six years?"

"Yes, I mean six years, so come on, and you'd have me all to yourself," he hummed into your ear, cheekily biting your lobe.

"El that tickles," you giggled, squeezing your head against your shoulder. "But that does sound nice,"

"See I knew I could get to you,"

"Oh hush, and you better not back out on your word,"

"Trust me chou chou I wouldn't dream of it. Never in a million years,"

—

May 2015

"I need you to take me to the airport, now!"

"Baron Zemo-,"

"I said now!" he exclaimed.

Never in his life had he been this curt, but these were dire circumstances. The situation back home had escalated way beyond what anyone would have thought could have ever happened.

He didn't even have time to process the constant news he was hearing. The constant bings and vibrations of his phone he couldn't even bear to look at it, tossing it to the side.

He couldn't sit still while the private plane flew from Germany back to the outskirts of Sokovia where it was safe.

A car was already there waiting for him driving him back to the estate.

It was on the edge of the city, the chance that they would be affected was slim to none. You'd be okay. Henri would be okay.

But when he pulled up to the estate, what he saw was not what he expected, or needed.

Right through the middle of the estate was a tear where the city had been ripped from the ground and into the sky.

"No, no, no," he shook his head, shutting the car door and looking at the semi demolished house in front of him.

As fast as his feet could take him he ran to the front steps, the door flung open and showing, the marble and cement slabs that had cracked, rubble littering the normally neat and pristine hallways.

And in the distance, in the middle of the hall, kneeling on the ground was his father, hunched over two limp and unmoving figures and- no. It couldn't be.

Zemo's throat began to close, tightening and constricting so much that he ripped open the top of his collar, grabbing the banister for support.

The tears were already pouring down his face, like the rain on the days that would force you to stay inside, away from the cold. The days you loved.

But now you were gone.

You'd never have another rainy day to enjoy.

At this point he wasn't even conscious of the steps he was taking to move forward. The way his hand shakily covered his mouth as he got closer, seeing his wife, his son, blood dripping from your heads. Blank (e/c) eyes, two pairs staring back at him.

He couldn't hold himself up anymore. Collapsing on the ground next to you, one hand still covering his mouth, hiding his sobs while the other pushed back his hair in stress.

And for once the manor wasn't quiet. It echoed with the sounds of his strangled sobs and cries, leaving from his very soul because his life, his city, his family, was gone. Just like that.

No more Turkish delight after school.

No more visiting the orphanage on Sundays after church.

No more dreaming of the long and happy life you'd lead because that was taken away.

He'd never get to see his son graduate high school, let alone get to high school. He couldn't ask Henri for help when something was stumping him. The young boy always had the best insights. A fresh point of view.

All of the things he couldn't do were shoved down his throat all at once and it was almost too much to bear. But whoever caused it. Whatever caused it, there was no way it could be good and it didn't take him long to decide that now it was his job to stop it.

BONUS [Civil War tidbit]

Wanda was prepared for a fight. It seemed like that was all they did these days, but she wasn't prepared to see the person who caused it standing right there, a once familiar face darkened with grief and sadness.

"B-Baron Zemo?" she said, her voice coming out more broken than intended.

"Wait you know this psychopath?" Sam asked, turning to the red headed girl who nodded.

"He and his wife used to come visit the orphanage Pietro and I were assigned to. B-Baron I don't understand," she asked coming forward, much to Steve's apprehension even though he knew she could hold her own against him. "Why are you doing this?" the confusion and hurt in her eyes was clear to him and his face softened slightly.

"She's dead, Wanda," he said. "She died with the city. I'm doing this for her,"

"What about Henri," she said, almost in a begging manner for him to please consider his son if not anything.

"Resting next to his mother," he said, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "He was nine-years-old, tell me how this can justify the death of a child? The death of multiple children,"

"But this isn't what she could have wanted-,"

"You don't know that," he said, trying to mask the tremor in his voice.

"(Y/N) liked to help people Helmut," she said, dropping whatever formalities there were entirely. "She loved being of service, the way to honour her legacy is not by killing people or tearing apart families," she said firmly. "I lost my brother too, the only thing I had left. Just because they might leave us doesn't mean we have to resolve these problems in this way,"

"And I'm afraid that's where you and I will see differently," he shook his head. "I'm sorry Wanda, really I wish things were-," he was cut off when she ran up to him, engulfing him in a hug.

"I'm sorry too,"

And with a spark of red, everything went dark.

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Spelling Bee (Brick/Blossom)

Happy birthday to @genovah​! She is always inspiring me to come up with more PPG content, a true hero. I’m back with another entry in the ongoing Shooketh, Not Stirred high school AU Reds series for your entertainment. As always, this can be read alone, but it happens in the same universe as part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5. This is also posted on my AO3.

Summary: Brick and Blossom hunker down in the library to study for the upcoming regional spelling bee.

***Reblogs are extremely appreciated, since this probably won’t show up in the tags due to cursing. Thank you! <3

xxx

In fairness, Brick had come to the library during his free period with the pure intention to learn. And he was certainly learning something. But somewhere between sliding into his seat opposite Blossom and watching her lips move around insouciant as if it were a strawberry slathered in ganache, his purity was torn from his weak, teenage boy fingers and there was absolutely no going back. 

“Brick, are you listening to me?” She touched his hand across the table. 

“Yup.”

“Did you need me to repeat the word?”

“Yup.”

“In-SOO-see-uhnt.” She sounded it out slowly, and hand to god, that dominating SOO went straight to his cock.

This, of course, was fine. 

“Origin?” he asked. 

She twirled her hair around her finger and puckered her lips. “French.”

Fuck.

“I…”

Blossom mistook his increasingly horny stupor for plain old stupor and sighed. “Are you even trying? Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were completely fine with Darla Dimpleton going to regionals instead of one of us.”

“I am not fine with that.”

Darla Dimpleton was an unassuming, unthreatening nobody with the personality of plain oatmeal. Brick would never have even bothered to learn her name had she not committed the cardinal sin of scoring so much extra credit while everyone else was busy having lives that she stole the number one GPA right from under him. Which meant she stole it from under Blossom too. Which meant Brick was no longer a respectable silver medal to Blossom’s gold, but currently ranked third and therefor merely happy to be on the podium at all (and for the record, no one has ever been happy merely to be on the podium, just like no one has ever been happy winning Most Improved: you sucked, and now you suck a little less. Except this time, you actually suck more because Darla fucking Dimpleton decided to Quaker Oats her way to the top of this rat race that doesn’t actually matter, but it’s the principle of the thing, i.e., the only thing that matters.). 

All of this to say, Darla Dimpleton was the Worst™ and she was one hundred percent going down. 

“Are you sure? Because you’re being awfully cavalier about this. Some might even call you insouciant.”

It was a testament to Brick’s powerful fondness for winning and being seen doing it that he spelled insouciant in one Darla Dimpleton-shaped cock blocking breath.

Blossom smiled like she knew something. “Much better.”  

Yeah, she knows a lot of things.

The problem with dating, Brick was convinced, was that suddenly the mundane became extraordinary. Everyday experiences that he had previously taken for granted—flying around Townsville, enjoying a cup of coffee, thwarting his sometimes murderous demonic overlord from distributing incriminating polaroids, that sort of thing—were suddenly exciting, thrilling even. Because now he got to do those things with Blossom, and Blossom was cool in a smarmy, elitist sort of way that both softened his heart and hardened his dick all at the same time, and that was kind of A Lot to deal with at 9 a.m. on a Tuesday.

“All right, do me,” Blossom said, and Brick coughed so badly his aforementioned weak, teenage boy fingers shook to stifle himself. 

Mercy, he thought, probably. But all his blood was rushing south and it was going to take a supernatural willpower to get through these words so that one of them could beat the upstart porridge peasant to this year’s regional spelling bee. 

“You’re the boss,” he said, because it was true, and also because he liked the way she looked at him when he said it. Like he was now the ganache-coated strawberry in this overextended metaphor that he was too laden with Homeric concupiscence being in her general proximity to unpack. 

Concupiscence, there’s a ten dollar word for you, you horny genius. 

He made a mental note to brag to Blossom about this later. 

“Okay, let’s see…” Brick made a show of organizing the flashcards so that she wouldn’t see him discreetly re-situate his pants under the table. “Your word is cymotrichous.”

Blossom tapped her lips, and Brick found himself sympathizing with the Puritans in their absolute befuddlement over the libidinous effect of women having lips. Witchcraft, surely. “Could you use it in a sentence for me?”

Compelled entirely by black magic and therefor not responsible for his imminently questionable choices, Brick obliged her with: “Thinking about how I’d rather run my fingers through your cymotrichous hair for the rest of free period instead of sit here spelling words no one’s ever heard of.”

Blossom, who he was dead certain was extremely thirsty for him and had been for years long before they ever reconciled their rivalry, leaned over the desk separating them. Her hair, long and loose and indeed quite wavy today, was tempting. “Brick, are you flirting with me?”

It was a well-known fact of being a Weak-Fingered, Teenage Boy that one must never reveal such weakness, especially not in front of one’s girlfriend. On the other hand, co-opting said weakness and rebranding it as the suave truth was galaxy brain levels of flirting. And Brick, as has already been established, was a horny genius. “Yup.” He leaned in to meet her, and he twirled her hair between his fingers because they were weak for her, indeed. “How am I doing?”

Blossom, too determined to let her thirst deter her from her goal of sweet, academic retribution and bragging rights, tapped a finger to his lips. “Great. But we have so many words to spell, and only thirty minutes left to do them all. So get shuffling, stud.”

Well, he could work with that. One thing that made his relationship with Blossom work very well was their insatiable competitiveness. Whether they were whaling on each other over an empty parking lot, debating the efficacy of post-its as a note-taking device, or combining their powers to Captain Planet a cornmeal know-it-all back down the leaderboard where she belonged, they were relentless glory chasers. And the greater the challenge, the more they enjoyed the experience and each other. 

Blossom spelled her word perfectly, by the way. She stretched out the o-u-s at the end in a bewitching little whisper as she pulled away and her hair slipped through his fingers. That moment when the light changes and the temperature shifts and you’re weightless in a state of existential anticipation of something monumental about to happen, but not quite? That happened. Thirty minutes to explore the shape of that anticipation was enough time to taste it but not enough to savor it. Which, Brick supposed, was about to make this the best thirty minutes he was likely going to get all week. 

“Are you ready?” Blossom watched him from behind the card she’d drawn. She had a glint in her eyes that told him she was smiling behind that card. 

“Anytime.”

“Your word is eudaemonic.”

That fucking gorgeous ooh again.

“Define it.”

Blossom flushed as though he had just ordered her to bend over. She bit her lip (it must have been a ten Hail Mary’s kind of day when the Witch-Finder General caught a flesh and blood woman doing that with her improbably sorcerous lips) and grinned. “It means producing happiness. Based on the idea of happiness as the proper end of conduct.”

Producing happiness, which is proper, much like how Blossom came off as proper and even prim around adults, when really she was the most fun, most confident, most person he’d ever met, especially when she was spelling in that chiffon top (son of a bitch, that was a great top on her), and the only conduct he was interested in was of the happiest kind.

“Oh.” His throat clenched, and then his stomach twisted, and then his pants grew little too tight again in a full-body chain reaction that began and ended with a fierce determination not to give in first even though it would mean release because release would be meaningless without this etymological tête-à-tête. 

Don’t think about tête-à-têtes. 

Seventeenth century, noun, borrowed from the French meaning literally “head to head” (please, please stop hurting yourself like this).

“Brick?”

Brick cleared his throat. “Yup. Got it. E-u-d…”

Crisis averted, Brick picked the next card and promptly choked on his own tongue. Blossom made a show like she was concerned and are you all right? and please drink some water. Brick drank her water, which of course she had had her anatomically heretical lips on earlier, which was just fantastic for him. Tuesday fucking morning. 

Milieu was her word. 

“Milieu, hmm.” Blossom’s smile was spellbinding, which was a pun because he punned when he panicked. “Origin?”

You bitch, he thought, and be cool, and also, witchcraft.

Brick leaned back in his chair, slipped his trembling hands in his pockets, and squeezed every ounce of anything you can do I can do better into a winsome grin. “French.”

Blossom’s adult-facing façade cracked like an egg, and he got a glimpse of the raw delight she felt for this game, for the words, and for him for making it happen. For cultivating the electric milieu, if you will, currently driving them both into a state of impassioned, competitive euphoria at 9:42 a.m. in the library. 

“Right, um…” She stumbled over her words, and Brick had to restrain himself from crowing for joy and risk the rheumy-eyed librarian coming to scold them. 

By the time they got through another set of words, they were each visibly frustrated and doubly turned on by the other’s masochistic resolve not to throw in the towel. 

“Okay, ready for another round?” 

She wasn’t even trying to hide her intentions now, and that was just fine with Brick. “Of course.”

One more.

If it was another French word, he was fucking done. 

“Really?” Blossom truly had ice in her veins for the way she was able to school her face then. He couldn’t read her, and that was very bad. 

If it’s another fucking French word…

He could be over the desk and on her faster than you could say concupiscence. 

“Okay.” Blossom set down the flashcard she’d drawn and folded her hands on the table. She looked him dead in the eye licked her lips. “Succedaneum.”

The bookshelf shook but Brick’s fingers didn’t as they pinned Blossom’s over a Dewey Decimal-stamped spine and he kissed her with all the horny passion of a teenage genius who would make a note to thank the devil for giving women lips. One of his better ideas. 

xxx

“Hey, has anyone seen Blossom? I’ve sent her, like, four texts!” Bubbles shoved her phone, open to the ignored texts in question, in her sister’s face. “She was supposed to help me with Chem homework.”

Buttercup ducked. “No, and watch where you’re swinging that thing.”

“I saw her earlier,” Boomer said. “She was with Brick coming out of first period.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mike slung his arm around Boomer’s shoulders. “Don’t they both have a free period right now?”

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “What a scam. Whoever decided to give the A-students free periods while the rest of us mere mortals gotta slave away is a straight-up Supervillain.”

Boomer snapped his fingers. “Hey, I just remembered! They both decided to compete for the spot at the regional spelling bee this year. I bet that’s what they’re doing.”

“God, that’s the saddest thing I have ever heard in my life. That’s a new low even for Blossom.”

“I heard there’s a cash prize for the regional winner,” Bubbles said. “It’s like twenty thousand bucks! Remember, everyone in school signed up and we had to have that assembly to narrow it down?”

“Twenty thou— How the tits did I miss that?!”

“I mean, it was all over the school,” Mike said. “We signed up too.”

“What? And no one thought to tell me I could’ve won the lottery?”

Boomer chuckled. “Dude, come on. You wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell against Darla Dimpleton.”

“Who?”

Bubbles cast Boomer a not worth it look, and he just sighed. “So, if they’re studying for the spelling bee, do you think they’re in the library?”

At that moment, Butch came bursting down the hall a little too fast to be human. Open lockers rattled on their hinges as he passed, and a Sophomore girl’s binder went flying, scattering looseleaf papers everywhere. Buttercup looked ready to punch him in the dick for breaking the no powers in school rule. “Guys, you’re gonna shit!” 

“Calm down before you blow a load, Jesus Christ.” Buttercup yanked him back down to the floor so he wouldn’t spontaneously float. 

Sensibly, Boomer asked, “Why?”

“‘Cause Brick and Blossom are making out in the library right now!”

Mike cringed. “Oh, come on.”

“The hell they are,” Buttercup said. 

Bubbles smiled. “Good for them.”

“I’m serious! There were books everywhere, and the noise—”

“Oh look, there goes my dignity. Better catch it before it gets away. C’mon, moron.” Buttercup dragged Butch down the hall over his protests. “What were you even doing in the library? I didn’t think you knew where it was…”

“Like that could ever happen,” Mike said. “Those two wouldn’t waste a minute of study time if it means beating out the competition.”

Boomer did not look so convinced. “I don’t know. I mean, they’re officially, for real dating now,”—“Finally!” Mike interjected—“so it’s not that unbelievable.”

The bell for the next period rang. Bubbles groaned thinking of stewing for an hour of Chem. At least she shared that class with Boomer and would not have to suffer alone. They parted from Mike and walked together through the throng of students rushing to get to their next period.

“Hey, do you think…” 

“I mean…” Boomer shrugged. 

They rounded the corner and nearly ran into Blossom dashing to her next class with a rushed “Got your texts talk later bye!” before she disappeared into the crowd. 

Bubbles whirled on Boomer. “Did you see her buttons—”

“Completely uneven—”

The late bell rang and made them jump. Among the last stragglers, they both dashed a bit too fast to get to class and made it to their seats just as Mr. Micelli finished writing a problem on the board. 

Boomer winked when she caught his eye a couple desks away from hers, and it took everything she had not to laugh.

“Good for her,” Bubbles said to herself. 

“You are late,” Mr. Micelli said. 

Everyone turned to watch Brick sink into his seat, his short hair totally askew and looking healthily flushed for a Tuesday morning. 

Boomer burst out laughing and needed a whole minute to calm down. 

He’d tell her later that the detention was worth it.

xxx

Witchcraft! 👁️👄👁️✨

[oswincoleman]

Jenna Coleman's 2021 Year in Review, Part 2: Interviews

Today, I will be listing all of Jenna Coleman's interviews this year, and point out some interesting points made in each of them. After going through them one by one, I discovered that there were far more than I had initially thought, and so my summary of each of them gets shorter and shorter.

The Chris Evans Breakfast show, 5th January.

During this interview, Jenna talked about The Serpent. She described what it was like to film during the pandemic, having to stop filming in Bangkok with 2 hours' notice. She talked about how filming was finally completed in Tring, which acted as Paris, Bombay, Karachi, and many other locations. Jenna talked about her reaction to reading the script, and how the script changed over time and had to be adapted due to changing external conditions. She said that it was fun to play the part, but that learning French was one of the hardest things she had done. When asked about what she thought about the show when she watched it, she said that she finds it hard to be objective, since she spent so much time working on it, but that she got quite positive feedback from other people about it.

A brief summary of the interview can also be found here: https://virginradio.co.uk/the-chris-evans-breakfast-show-with-sky/25383/jenna-coleman-on-bbc-crime-thrillerthe-serpent-and-perfecting-her-french-accent

The One Show, 25th of January

Jenna talked a bit about how hot it was in Bangkok throughout the filming of The Serpent, and some of the process of filming the show.

Vogue

In this interview she talked about first learning about the upcoming show The Serpent during the time when she was performing All My Sons at the Old Vic in 2019, and that she was completely drawn into the story. She mentioned that even though a lot of elements of the show were invented because they were not known, that many of the crazy things that are shown really did happen, such as the poisoning of the monkey. She talked about Marie's complex character, and how she tried to understand her. The fashion of the show was also discussed in detail. When asked what she will be working on next, she mentioned an NDA project (which we now know is The Sandman), and "hopefully a few indie films" (she filmed one indie film later in 2021; Klokkenluider). She talked about spending time in lockdown learning French, cooking, gardening, and attending a photography course.

You can read the full interview here: https://www.vogue.co.uk/arts-and-lifestyle/article/jenna-coleman-the-serpent-interview

Radio Times, 13-19 February

Jenna talked about being terrified about the challenge of playing the complex character of Monique while speaking a language she had just started learning, in a very unfamiliar setting halfway around the world. She said that she felt as if she was in My Fair Lady in preparations for the role. She talked about poring over pictures of Marie, and intently studying the audio recordings of her. She mentioned that the first scene she filmed was the end of the first episode, when she played Monique ignoring the pleas for help of the Dutch couple. Jenna also described the "Serpent curse" of having so many issues facing the production of the show. There was a brief discussion about All My Sons, and her acting career overall, and the interview ended with Jenna jokingly saying that maybe she will do musical comedy next.

This is probably my favourite interview with Jenna this year. It is very well written, explores several different topics, and is a great read!

Table Manners with Jessie Ware Podcast, 10th February

This podcast is mainly about food, but of course Jenna was asked, and also talked quite a bit about The Serpent, and other past and future projects.

Jenna said that when she was a child she went through a phase where she wouldn't eat anything, except cream cheese sandwiches and Heinz tomato soup, and even then she would sometimes hide sandwiches in a vase, so that she could go off and play instead of eating it. She was diagnosed with gluten intolerance 5 years ago, and now can't eat many of the foods she loved to eat previously. She describes herself as a massive coffee addict. Jenna also told the funny story of singing karaoke in Ibiza when she was 12, with Charlotte Church.

You can listen to the podcast here:

https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9yc3MuYWNhc3QuY29tL3RhYmxlbWFubmVycw/episode/OWNkM2E4ZjMtYzZkMS00NmZhLThkODctY2M2ODkxMTg1ZDYx?sa=X&ved=0CAIQuIEEahcKEwjw4J7Twof1AhUAAAAAHQAAAAAQQg

Interview with Edith Bowman

Watch the interview here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=heXOz0oxlzI&t=1283s

The Glass Magazine

In this interview, Jenna talked about deciding that she wanted to become an actress when she was 10, and played a role in a theatre (I think she is referring to playing the second Italian Bridesmaid in Summer Holiday, the part for which she had to sing "Happy Birthday" to herself). Jenna says that she did not expect to be cast when she auditioned for Doctor Who, as she thought that they would cast someone really famous instead of her. She also discussed her excitement about playing a young and vivacious Victoria. When discussing The Serpent, Jenna mentions many things that were also addressed in other interviews. Finally, she says how much she loves change, and that she considers the prospect of constantly working with other people at other locations to tell other stories exhilarating.

Read the full interview here:

https://www.theglassmagazine.com/glass-speaks-to-british-actor-jenna-coleman/

Click the City

This is the first interview with Jenna ahead of the release of The Serpent on Netflix. Jenna talked about never having been interested in the true crime genre before getting sent the scripts for The Serpent. She talked about learning to play a bilingual character, and how powerful a change of language from English to French, or vice versa is in telling the story. She discussed how power is portrayed, both in The Serpent and in Victoria, and how the direction for the show was very open. And of course the interview also discussed the various costumes Jenna wore for the show, and how those reflected Marie's development.

Read the full interview here: https://www.clickthecity.com/tv/article/90311/interview-jenna-coleman-on-playing-accomplice-in-true-crime-series-the-serpent/

The Laterals, issue 6

In this interview, Jenna talked about what she had been up to during lockdown, and that she had been learning psychology. She said that she recently drove over a large rock, and burst the tire of her car, and that she subsequently decided to learn to get better at various DIY tasks. Jenna describes being drawn to the role because she was intrigued by the psychology of Marie, and the story of the mystery of who she really is, what parts of her act is pretence, and what is real. She talked about trying to understand Marie, and how she could go along with it all. Jenna also talked about how she chooses the roles she plays; that she likes playing very different characters that are very different from herself, that she doesn't like repetition, and that it is a lot about getting the right script at the right time. She says that she was offered roles in many psychological thrillers after The Cry, but that she wanted to do something else instead. When asked about how she prepared for various roles, Jenna spoke about how she loves playing real people, and that she likes to do intensive research into the real life characters she has played (Victoria and Marie). Finally, she also discusses her legacy in Doctor Who, and her experiences from it.

Dutch Interview for RTL Boulevard, 1st of April

In this brief TV interview, Jenna talked about working with the young Dutch actors Ellie de Lange and Armand Rosbak, and meeting the real Herman Knippenberg.

Philippine Daily Enquirer

In addition to previous things already mentioned, Jenna talked about how tough it was to read Marie's diaries in preparation to playing the role. This, and the next few interviews mainly repeat elements that I have already described in previous summaries, so my description for them will be rather short.

Entertainment Weekly

In this interview, Jenna goes into more detail into the challenges of learning French, and she succeeded despite only having 3-4 weeks to learn it.

Read the interview here:

https://ew.com/tv/jenna-coleman-netflix-the-serpent-interview/

Forbes

In this interview, Jenna talks a lot about Marie's psychology

Read the interview here:

https://www.forbes.com/sites/danafeldman/2021/04/01/in-the-serpent-jenna-coleman-portrays-a-woman-willing-to-kill-for-love/?sh=24f0ce6c4eb6

Boston Herald

Read the interview here:

https://www.bostonherald.com/2021/04/02/one-character-two-personas-lured-jenna-coleman-into-serpent-role/

Shondaland

This is a quite in-depth interview, in which Jenna describes her decision in crafting Marie's voice, making a deliberate decision to not make it exactly like the real Marie's voice, who apparently did not have nearly as strong of an French accent when speaking English than Jenna portrayed her as. Once again, Jenna really went out of her way to make the role even more of a challenge for herself, and to distinguish it vocally from all her other roles, as she always does. Jenna mentioned a lightness between takes, to compensate for how dark the story was. And that she formed many great friendships while working on the show.

Read the interview here:

https://www.shondaland.com/inspire/a36006231/in-the-serpent-jenna-coleman-explores-the-scary-and-seductive-world-of-serial-killers/

Brieftake

This detailed interview is one of my favourites from this year, and discusses The Serpent, as well as many past, and future projects that Jenna is involved in.

Read the interview here:

https://brieftake.com/interview-the-serpent-jenna-coleman/

Elle France

Read the interview here:

https://www.elle.fr/Loisirs/Series/Le-Serpent-sur-Netflix-qui-est-Jenna-Coleman-la-complice-de-Tahar-Rahim-dans-la-serie-3922779#xtor=CS5-88

Town and Country

Read the interview here:

https://www.townandcountrymag.com/leisure/arts-and-culture/a35981890/jenna-coleman-marie-andree-leclerc-the-serpent-interview/

Collider

Jenna talked about understanding Marie, and starting to sympathize with her, when she started uncovering who she really was, rather than how she presented herself. She also told a funny story of The Serpent facing so many production issues, that her brother made some jokes when filming was actually, finally, completed, after a 13 month shoot. In this interview, Jenna also talked about some past and future projects. She went into more detail here about Klokkenluider, and her role in it, than in any other interview so far.

Read the interview here:

https://collider.com/jenna-coleman-interview-the-serpent-netflix/

In Creative Company

Jenna describes many aspects of the story, Marie's character, and the process of filming The Serpent, and adds several anecdotes as well, such as the competition between Foufou the dog, and the monkey. She said that she was most proud about just getting it all done, because with many delays and other things that affected production, she was happy that it was able to be completed, and released.

Watch the interview here:

https://youtu.be/WfyHZgqyaBw

Second Interview with Edith Bowman

Watch the interview here:

https://vimeo.com/536453475

Byrdie

In this interview, Jenna talked a lot about The Serpent, and also discussed how she has grown increasingly confident about being on set throughout her acting career. She gives some advice for aspiring actors, and describes her favourite beauty products, and what shows she had been watching recently.

Read the interview here:

https://www.byrdie.com/jenna-coleman-zoom-date-5185691

Marie Claire Australia

Read the interview here:

https://www.marieclaire.com.au/jenna-coleman-interview-the-serpent

Grazia

After a lot of interviews about The Serpent in early 2021, this is a recent interview from November, which predominantly focuses on Jenna's favourite skincare and make-up products. But she also discusses how important costume and make-up are in stepping out of one's own person, and into the character that one is portraying. She talks about Victoria and The Serpent, and some Christmas traditions of hers.

Read the interview here:

https://graziadaily.co.uk/beauty-hair/makeup/jenna-coleman-beauty-interview/

Sheerluxe

Jenna talks about Christmas traditions, new years' resolutions, and what she is looking forward to in the new year.

Read the interview here:

https://sheerluxe.com/life/festive-coffee-with%E2%80%A6-jenna-coleman