#they’re both perfectly nice people - and are sort of friends with my sister and her bf - but I also don’t want them to be anything other

[starkidlabs]

Men over 40 please stop trying to be my friend.

[theveryworstthing]

So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

[rafescoke]

Maybank ; Rafe Cameron (Part 2)

Part #2

Read part #1 here

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Sometimes both sides are in the wrong.

Warnings: More angst, mentions of substance, gaslighting!

A/N: you know the drill. . . send requests!

(Y/N) isn’t one to feel jealous easily.

When she dated a certain boy from her school a few years ago, she wasn’t even phased when she had found him kissing another girl at a party.

She simply didn’t care.

But the aching feeling in her when she saw her current boyfriend sniffing a line on the back of a random girl with the perfect house and the perfect clothes and the-

“(Y/N), do you want to come down to the beach with us?”

(Y/N) finally looks up from her novel in which she wasn’t even reading in the first place. Her mind was somewhere else, and her thoughts weren’t put in the context of the book.

“No. I’m not feeling well.”

JJ sighs, fixing his cap backwards and placing himself beside her. He looks over her lap, reading the first few lines of the book his sister’s reading and sighs. 

“I never read, so I do not understand how this whole novel thing works. But I’m pretty sure reading about getting over a breakup won’t do you any good.”

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, snapping her book with a shut. The last thing she ever wants is for JJ to lecture her. She had enough bawling her eyes the past 2 weeks. 

“What time are you supposed to go again? Go.”

She’s grateful, of course, for JJ. He was there for her the whole 2 weeks when she didn’t feel like eating or taking a shower or anything that involved getting out of the bed.

But she feels better now, her hair perfectly up in a hairdo and the red color of her cheeks returning.

She’s not sad anymore.

The feeling evolves into anger.

Of course, (Y/N).

You’re nothing but a pogue.

If there’s one thing Obx is famous for, that will be the annual bonfire. It’s an excuse for every teenager on the island to let loose and to free themselves after a year of studying.

For (Y/N), it’s just another party for Rafe to ignore her.

But she’s not coming down to the beach with him a few distance away, hell, she doesn’t even know if he’s coming.

“What the fuck! You told me you’re not coming,” JJ laughs, giving his sister a side hug. “You look good. You don’t look pale anymore.”

“I’m gonna be sick if you keep saying nice things to me,” (Y/N) rolls her eyes, though her insides are beaming. JJ has always been her number one supporter, and she loves her brother with all her heart.

“Just don’t go to the other side of the beach, okay? All your friends are here.”

And we’re back to him protecting her.

She gets it, really, but she doesn’t feel like a night full of JJ and his friends becoming some sort of bodyguards to her.

The last thing she ever wants is for Rafe to think she’s still weak.

“J, I know.”

He holds both of his hands up, “I’m just saying. I’m by the fire if you ever need me, okay?”

It’s funny how the boy who cried to her over his scraped knee is the same boy who’s trying his best to protect her. Growing up in a dysfunctional family, all (Y/N) and JJ has is each other. 

(Y/N) walks to the music booth, getting so tired over the same artist being played over and over again. She doesn’t feel like listening to Drake all while trying to forget a certain brunette boy from the back of her head.

“Hey, can I get something different? Play the Euphoria soundtrack if you must. Anything other than the songs you’re playing.”

The DJ looks up to her and gives out the widest grin. (Y/N) tries to look away from the charming smile, but her eyes are glued to a pair of blue ones.

“Not a fan of Drake?”

“Nah.”

“Why? Trying to move on from an ex?”

She gulps, “No. Just have a good taste in music.”

The guy licks his teeth, “Touche. The name’s Nate.”

(Y/N) gives him a small grin, “Hm. Can we change the song now?”

Nate raises a brow because god; no one has ever disregard him. 

There’s something about the girl.

“Is Party In The USA good enough for you, princess?”

Her breath hitches. The last time someone has ever called her princess was probably a few weeks ago. 

This is not helping her to get over him.

“Whatever. You’re the DJ, right?” she answers, turning on her heels. “Oh wait, Nate?”

He smiles at her again, and (Y/N) has the urge to slap the smug look off his face.

“Don’t call me princess. You’re not my boyfriend.”

For the past 40 minutes, no Drake song has been playing. The crowd begins filling the empty space in the middle to dance with each other, and (Y/N) has to look away from the couple getting close and leaving kisses down each other’s necks.

She makes her way down to the drinks counter to get herself a beer because she really doesn’t feel like watching another friend of hers kissing their partners while sober. She decides that if she has to stay for another hour of people making out with each other, it’s better if she’s intoxicated.

“Hey.”

(Y/N) turns her back, expecting to see a drunk friend of hers, but the sight of the same DJ from before greets her.

She rolls her eyes, “I’m not asking you to change the music.”

“I know, I guess I started off wrong just now. Let me reintroduce myself. You deserve to know the real me.”

(Y/N) laughs, because this whole thing sounds like something out of a corny Netflix movie. He’s cute, sure, but she’s just not interested.

He removes the beanie he’s been wearing all night, revealing a blonde buzz cut underneath. (Y/N) tries not to stare.

Okay. Screw cute. He’s handsome. 

“Hi, I’m Nate. I’m from New York, and I just moved here.”

She smiles, finally, because he fits the exact image she has of every male teenager in New York. Blonde buzz cut, an unbuttoned blue shirt with a peak of his toned body underneath, and a pair of red shorts. 

A new kook.

“Nate, your kind and I don’t match. You’re a kook.”

He scrunches his face, “They’ve been telling me that shit since the first week I’ve been here-” he steps closer, and (Y/N) can smell his expensive cologne. It’s not the same one she favors on Rafe, but it’s close. “-don’t tell me you believe that stuff.”

Oh.

She grins, “I’m not rich, Nate.”

“So?”

Oh.

“The name’s (Y/N),” she smiles, extending her hand. Nate beams, because finally, after a whole night of watching her from his booth, she finally expresses the most beautiful smile there is. 

“(Y/N), I feel like we’re going to get closer soon.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“I’m not a Drake’s fan either.”

. . .

(Y/N)’s hesitant. 

She doesn’t believe him in one bit, not even when he flashes her the most charming smile ever. 

But he’s not afraid to show her off. She went on a date with him a few nights ago, and she distanced herself from him upon the entrance of the restaurant.

“What the fuck are you doing? C’mere.”

(Y/N) looked up to him, “You don’t have to stay near with me.”

Nate turned to her with a confused expression. “Why? I’m buying you dinner, remember?”

He held her hands in his, and she let him.

Nate pokes her side and suppresses a giggle when she yelps from the sudden touch. He fails, however, when she falls from his bed onto the floor. 

“You’re too ticklish,” he says and helps her up to her feet. Her eyes wander to the band posters on his wall again, being so amazed and surprised by this boy’s taste in music and movies.

“I don’t even listen to half of the bands you listen to,” she says finally, pulling herself down to the empty space beside him. “Do you know who’s Ariana Grande?”

Nate rolls his eyes, “Ha-ha. No. I don’t. Is she the one who sang Despacito or something?”

(Y/N) laughs and her heart suddenly soars. She feels at ease, and there’s lightness in the air, even when they’re in public.

(Y/N) stands up, taking the full room into view again, and walks to the shelf full of pictures of Nate and his family. There’s a picture of him in a soccer jersey, a picture of him playing the drums and then an electric guitar, and-

“Oh my god, is this your girlfriend?” (Y/N) exclaims, picking up a photo frame with a beautiful brunette girl smiling back at her. “She’s so pretty.”

“(Y/N), put it back,” Nate rolls his eyes, standing up from the comfort of his bed and walking towards her. (Y/N) laughs, liking the way his eyebrows scrunch in distress and hides the photo frame behind her.

“(Y/N). . . I’m not playing.”

“No one is playing, Nate,” she laughs, taking a few steps back as he motions forward. “I can’t believe you have a sweetheart back in NYC, Nate.”

“(Y/N), put it back.”

(Y/N) pulls a confused expression, “Put what back?” she brings the frame forward, and expressed a fake sigh. “Oh, this? I was just checking this out-” Nate charges for her and she squeals, running towards the end of his room and watching as he runs in her direction. She panics, looking around for a place to hide, and as her eyes meet his bed, Nate has the same idea in his head.

He pushes her over his bed so she topples over, the frame still in her hands. She yelps, leaving the frame alone and using both of her hands to push his chest away. 

Nate hovers over her, being so close he can smell her sweet scent now, and she looks so good under his yellow lights and in his bed and that goddamn smirk on her face-

“Is she your girlfriend, Nate?”

“None of your concern, princess,” he answers. Her eyes snap down to the cross dangling from his neck, and he can’t do this anymore; not when she looks so pretty under his gaze.

(Y/N) can feel the sudden change in the air now, and the chasing game they’ve been playing suddenly doesn’t look like a chasing game.

He’s like a predator waiting to attack. 

(Y/N)’s eyes look up to him again. “Is she your girlfriend?”

And he connects his lips with her. She gasps from the sudden touch, but after a few seconds, he can feel her kissing him back. 

And for once, she feels okay again. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him close to her and letting his warmth engulfing her.

She feels at peace.

“Rafe,” she whispers, letting the blonde boy trails down to her neck.

Nate pulls away, his lips sore and red after their brief makeout session.

Chest heaving, he steps away. “Rafe?”

(Y/N) sits up, groaning and fixing her hair. “God, I’m so stupid. I don’t mean that, Nate, I’m sorry. Please, don’t go.”

Nate pulls a disgusted face, and it’s the same look Rafe had put in the party a few weeks ago to her and she can feel herself losing again. 

“I’m going out. You can stay here if you want.”

“Nate-”

The door closes behind him, and (Y/N) groans. 

Way to go, (Y/N).

. . .

She hates how bad she feels for Nate.

He has been nothing but a total sweetheart to her, and there she was; moaning another guy’s name and letting him walked out of his own home.

So that’s the core reason as to why she’s standing outside of his house at 10 p.m. on a Friday, letting the heavy rain soaks her whole outfit because of course she would forget to bring an umbrella.

She knocks again, with her fists this time, because she’s certain he hadn’t heard her. For a moment, she’s afraid his father or mother would open the door but after remembering how they’re going to be away for a business trip, she sighs in relief. 

The door opens midway of her banging on the door, revealing a shirtless Nate with nothing but green sweatpants complimenting his legs.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” he groans, tugging her arms in and closing the door after her. (Y/N) attacks him in a tight hug, slightly shivering from the cold rain outside, and after a few seconds, Nate hugs her back.

“You’re okay?”

“Can we talk in your room?”

“Uh, I don’t-”

(Y/N) doesn’t let him give any excuse and she pulls him into the living room, but before she can reach the space, he pulls her to a halt.

“Hey, we can’t go there, I’m kinda, um, doing something. What’s wrong?”

She sighs, “Nate, I’m so sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it when I called you someone else’s name and that’s the stupidest thing I ever did but please don’t go, okay? You’re all I have.”

Nate laughs, “God, you’re really worried about that? I get it, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is, really. But tell me one thing, though-” he pulls her arms, and pins her against the wall. (Y/N) smiles, staring into his blue orbs. “Is this Rafe more handsome than me?”

“Hey man, we really can’t wait-” a voice starts from the direction of the living room, and before (Y/N) can move away, the voice rings again. “Ah. Of course.”

Oh my god.

She misses him too much. His hair is messier than ever, his eyes bloodshot and his nose red. (Y/N) wonders how many lines he did, but judging from the distant look in his eyes, she’s guessing a lot.

“Rafe,” she whispers, getting closer to the boy she missed and letting his smell engulf her. 

“Rafe?” Nate quirks a brow because this isn’t making any sense. Why would she called his friend the name-

Of course.

Rafael is Rafe.

So this is the guy.

His childhood friend is ‘the Rafe’ of the girl he’s starting to fall for.

After so many hours of trying to find the Rafe she accidentally called him, he hadn’t thought of his own childhood friend to be the guy all along.

Growing up, he have been told to call him Rafael up until the day he moved to New York. 

He can’t believe it.

“Rafe,” she calls again, this time following Rafe out to the living room. “Rafe, listen to me.”

“You moved on too fast.”

“I haven’t moved on, Rafe, fuck, I swear I haven’t,” she expresses. “Please. Listen to me.”

“You were mad at me for doing a line from some bitch’s back and you’re, you’re o-out here, under my own fucking friend’s arms and- did y’all fucked?”

“What?” she gasps, “God, Rafe, no. No. I will never fuck anyone other than you.”

“Yeah?” Rafe raises a brow and lets out a shrill laugh. “God, I don’t even know if I can trust you.”

“You can, Rafe,” she steps forward, trying to reach his face with her cold fingers. The anger she felt before suddenly dissipates into the thin air because god, she did not realize how much she has been missing this boy more than anything in the world.

Her everything.

Rafe flinches away, “Stop. Do you know how miserable I am the past few weeks without you?”

“Don’t turn this on me now, Rafe.” “And you’re out here with fucking Nate Hamilton. Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Rafe, it’s not like that,” Nate suddenly steps in, and (Y/N) gives him a warning look not to say anything more. He ignores her, “Are we not going to talk about how you disregard her just because of her status on this fucking island?”

“God, always with your equality shit,” Rafe groans. “You guys deserve each other. I can’t believe you will ever do this to me, Nate.”

What hurt Rafe more isn’t the fact that she was all pinned under his arms, but it was because Nate knew about their relationship. Rafe had told him everything about her ever since they first started dating, and he hadn’t just lost her tonight.

He lost his childhood friend too.

“I’m leaving,” he says, rubbing his nose and sniffing. Rafe isn’t sure how many lines he has done, but his mind is getting lighter and lighter and the lights are turning blurry. 

He can’t stand being in the same room as them. He will fucking drive if he has to.

(Y/N) bites her lips, trying to stop herself from bursting into tears. So they know each other? Why won’t Rafe ever tell her about him? Is this still her fault? She wasn’t even cheating on him. They’re not together.

Right?

Are they together?

“Hey, you’re okay?”

(Y/N) pulls her hands away, stepping away from the blonde boy and walking towards the exit. She has to leave this house as soon as possible. The once comforting bright color of the wall seems so dull and suffocating now, and she longs for the familiar blue paint of Rafe’s room.

She wants Rafe. 

No one else.

Just him.

“Just me?” Rafe smiled. “Hey, hey, I got a surprise for you.”

“Rafe, I hate surprises,” (Y/N) groaned, throwing her head back against the headrest. “You bought me a dress before!”

“Look-” he smiled, showing her a gold ring in a small velvet box. “It’s a ring.”

“Oh my god, it looks like yours!” (Y/N) exclaimed, clutching his hand with the ring and comparing the color. 

“Of course it’s the same ring. You’re my wife, I’m not going to buy you a different kind.”

“Wife?”

“What? Am I not your husband?”

(Y/N) wishes for nothing but Rafe. 

She presses on his contact again, turning her phone downside and moving the speaker nearer to her lips.

“Rafe, please call me back. I miss you, and we can fix this, okay? I didn’t know about Nate and I was so, so stupid. I can never replace you, Rafe. You’re mine, remember? Please. Call me back. I miss you.”

She sighs, setting her phone down on her lap and watches as the rain patters down her front windscreen heavily.

Love is a hell of a drug.

-

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[sokkagatekeeper]

bestie did i read that right you CANNOT just say “haru had a brief fling with zuko” in the tags and leave it at THAT-

no but i WOULD like to hear about haru x zuko🤔🤔 (@i-hate-mayo)

yeah well maybe i need to stop talking so much in the tags. that said! me and @/zukkot crafted this scenario (about an 80% of a joke. give or take) in which haru has a brief fling with zuko at the western air temple, most importantly at the same time he has a fling with katara. now i know this sounds batshit but there’s a big comedic value to it.

reasons why haru should hook up with zuko and katara at the same time: it would be further proof of the fact that katara and zuko share the same taste in men (see: jet, who is also sokka-esque); it would mean katara and zuko share not only one, but two ex-boyfriends/boyfriend-adjacents; it would mean dumb teen romantic drama, and i think they deserve it; it would definitely strengthen their friendship. somehow!

people this fling would piss off: katara, for letting another tall boy with nice hair break her heart and for zuko of all people nonetheless; sokka, for being foced to remember the fact that katara and zuko have the same (SHITTY) taste in men; aang, who is deep down a twelve-year old in puppy love; ty lee, who is honestly a little tired of people breaking zuko’s little heart, even if it was kinda funny at one point

people this fling would be a fun little adventure to: haru! and do not misunderstand him, he might’ve made a mistake, but in his defense, he thought katara... knew. zuko knew he was having a fling with katara as well, why wouldn’t katara? overall this was a fun experience that served haru to understand he is, in fact, straight. now “why would haru experiment with zuko, fugitive prince of the fire nation, of all people?” the answer is that haru has no impulse control, next question; toph, who loves teen drama when it’s merely outside of her person but inside her social circle, and whose feet are very aware of everything that went down at the western air temple, is very amused as well.

people this fling would not piss off: zuko, whose heart was not, in fact, broken by haru. he might’ve been hooking up with haru but deep down he was pining after sokka the entire time, the poor thing. which also brings me to my next statement;

zuko can uh... forgive the mustache, when they’re at it. katara thinks it’s hot, sokka thinks it’s hideous, zuko thinks it’s... fine. whatever. five out of ten. but it’s definitely not a plus. zuko likes haru enough, and nothing more — he’s not a sokka, y’know. not even a jet. but that’s fine, because zuko is not looking for romance! he’s looking to distract himself from his embarassing crush on sokka, the crushing weight of uncertainity of not knowing if his uncle hates his guts or not, his imminent defeat and death and general mortality upon joining a 12 year-old’s rebel gang of child soldiers, etc. you know, typical teen boy stuff. so when haru off-handedly mentions katara, zuko is just like “huh. ok?” he simply doesn’t give a shit. good for him! katara on the other hand is not looking for romance on principle, not because haru wasn’t a good candidate, but because you know, the War. girl has her priorities. but haru is so sweet to her she has got to admit she sort of got a crush. now there’s two possible scenarios in which katara finds out;

first, during their last days at ember island, when sharing grief over jet, looking to lighten up the mood a little, zuko says “isn’t it crazy we share two entire ex-boyfriends” and katara is like “what.” and then zuko gets drenched instantly. there’s no witnesses; who’s to say what happened really. maybe a very big wave or something

OR, when toph says, “i knew you had a secret thing with haru!” at the same time katara and zuko, aka the exact same person defensively say, “NO I DID NOT—” and it goes downhill from there

either way. internally, katara is like, “haru wouldn’t do that” but then she concludes she actually doesn’t care that much about haru, and she thinks “i can’t believe ZUKO would do that!!!” and she gets back on her zuko-is-evil mindset the entire day — “you just had to colonize my love life as well, didn’t you???” they are back to being ride-or-die besties by the next morning tho.

upon these very public, very hilarous revelations, sokka sincerely believes it is his right to punch that dude. fuckboying it up not only with his bro, his boy bestie, his pal, his totally absolutely entirely platonic lohl (love of his life) etc etc, but also with his sister!! that is of course until zuko tells him no, haru did not break his heart (jet did tho. poor thing p2. good thing zuko broke his heart right back! but that’s for another post). zuko insists it was a meaningless fling for him, even if it angered katara to no end, and then it angered zuko because it angered katara, because they are both Like That. since then, sokka finds the situation... kinda funny.

so a year after the war has ended, aang and katara inevitably break up. the first thing sokka does upon hearing the news is go directly to zuko like, “if you go after aang i swear to god” and then zuko almost pukes a little. not about to make out with a twelve year old, y’know? (and actually, aang is fourteen at the time, but once you know someone at twelve at sixteen you always know them at twelve at sixteen. privately, aang thinks zuko is kinda ugly, anyway.) during the years aang and katara spend as just friends, katara and haru light up their little flame again for a little while. it’s fun, but it doesn’t last. there’s too much history there, y’know? sometimes zuko will visit and give haru the bad eye, and haru thinks it’s because he kinda broke zuko’s heart, but in reality it’s because he broke katara’s heart and made her angry, and zuko can hold a grudge. eventually tho aang and katara get back together because they go really hard on fate and soulmates. zuko thinks it’s perfectly reasonable, and sokka & toph don’t want to ruin their beautiful love story just yet, so they keep quiet. when sokka and zuko get together, katara looks at zuko straight in the eye and says “no.” and zuko points at aang, and says “no.” so their shared type in men comes to an amiable end.

that is, until one night at a sleepover. zuko takes a sip of his tea (alcohol) and says, “jet was kinda like sokka, though” and katara says “No.” but zuko keeps going, also pretty horrified, “and haru is kinda like aang” and katara says “STOP.” and they happily agree to never speak of any of it ever again.

[moonawrites]

“Is this the moment that we kiss?” Jily prompt.

When Lily asked James to pretend to be her boyfriend at Petunia’s wedding, she had it all figured out.

Petunia had been completely fucking unbearable all summer, bragging about Vernon like the ignorant walrus was something to be proud of. Bragging about her shiny ring and pretty wedding and not being alone. Making snide comments about what a shame it was for the bride’s sister to attend the wedding on her own. So naturally Lily had corrected her. She would, in fact, be bringing a date. And she knew just who to ask.

James was a good friend and always up for a party, even if that party was to celebrate the union of two of the worst people he knew. So of course he instantly said yes. Free booze and an opportunity to irritate your sister? Why the fuck not?

Never mind that Lily had a bit of a crush on him. If a bit meant a massive, rapidly developing, all consuming infatuation that had taken over her entire life. Real inconvenient for that to start when James had already moved on from his a good two years ago, and was perfectly comfortable being Lily’s friend. Inconvenient and painful. Pretending to date him, even for a night, was probably was not the soundest idea… but it was the best she had, and it fed into her fantasy, so she went with it.

Now, though, with James’ hands on her waist and his cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol and the dancing and the warm August evening, his hair mussed and his eyes bright… she’s not sure she should have done this. Not sure she can bear to leave this fantasy when the night ends and they go back to being friends and she makes up some excuse to explain away their breakup two weeks from now.

“They’re watching us,” James whispers, leaning his head in close, and Lily’s breath catches in her throat.

“Who?”

“Your parents. Your sister.” James smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Should we put on one final show to end the night?”

We’re better off as friends. We tried and it doesn’t work. Some generic bullshit of that sort should work. The song changes to something slow and romantic, and the couples around them who had been taking a break and chatting at their tables offer each other inviting smiles. Soon enough the dance floor is packed again.

“Perfect timing,” James murmurs, pulling Lily closer.

They’ve had so much fun. Drinking and dancing and judging Petunia and Vernon’s awful friends. They always have fun. But it’s a different kind of nice when James pulls out her chair and gushes over her to her family and gets her drinks and holds her close for the slow songs. Lily’s heart aches and her stomach twists. She wants this to be real so bad.

“Do you think they believe us?” Lily asks, just for something to say to keep her from spiralling into her traitorous thoughts.

“Hm. Dunno. I feel like I’m quite a good actor.” James nudges Lily’s nose with his and smiles playfully, unaware of the damage he’s just done to her heart with that one small gesture. It’s just acting. He's playing a part. Relax. “You’re a bit rusty though, can’t you pretend to be a little more in love with me?”

Lily laughs, and it’s actually genuine even if it’s a bit painful. God, if he only knew. Pretend to be in love with him, it’s really quite funny. “What do you want from me, director?”

As if on queue, the song swells and rises, that moment when the music wraps around your heart and the couples around them feel an unseen force pull them closer to one another.

James tilts his head and raises an eyebrow again. “Is this the moment that we kiss?”

Lily’s eyes widen. “What?”

“What?” James says innocently. “Everyone else is doing it. We’re supposed to be a couple at a wedding and we haven’t kissed once.”

“Because we’re not a couple.”

“But don’t you want them to think we are? Now’s the perfect time.”

He’s right. She asked him to do this and he’s trying to help and he’s absolutely right, they’re at a wedding and they haven’t kissed once, how convincing is that? But she can’t. Not like this.

“I… no. I don’t want to.”

“I mean, okay.” James shrugs. “It’s just a kiss.”

“I don’t want a fake kiss with you,” Lily admits, and she wants to clamp a hand over her mouth, because who even asked? Certainly not James.

James snorts. “Why? Would you prefer a real one?” And he’s obviously joking, because that’s James’ way. But Lily freezes up like she’s been caught stealing, her heart racing and jumping into her throat and her face burning up.

She laughs a few excruciatingly long and silent seconds too late, but it’s strained and feels like it’s being ripped from her throat. James’ smile is gone though, and he stares at her in… confusion? Concern? …Belated understanding. And finally, shock.

“No fucking way,” he breathes, his smile creeping back onto his face, and Lily wants to melt into the floor. Pathetic. She’s absolutely pathetic. She couldn’t even last one day, all it took was one joke to crack her.

“Shut up, please. Just… shut up,” she begs. She can’t bear the jokes right now.

James laughs, and the sound of it is beautiful and elated. “Why don’t you make me, Evans?” He leans in close. “Kiss me for real,” he dares.

Lily scowls and shoves him away, heart lurching. “Don’t be an asshole.”

James pulls her back instantly, weaves his arms back around her waist. “I’m not being an asshole. I don’t want a fake kiss either.”

When she says nothing, only stares at him quiet and lost, James sighs. “You’re so daft, Lily. How much more obvious can I be?” He cups her face in both his hands, calloused and gentle, and Lily melts. “Kiss me.”

There’s sincerity in his eyes and his words sound earnest even if they’re whispered and he’s really not that kind of asshole. So what’s a girl to do when the man of her dreams insists she kiss him?

Lily can’t help laughing in some mix of disbelief and delight even when their lips collide.

//

Thank you for the prompt! I had fun with this one. Clearly keeping it short is not my strength, you got 1,054 words out of me! I'll do more tomorrow :)

[theoreticslut]

“Bloody hell, it’s only taken you five years.”

Part 2 to “You don’t share real well”

pairing: fred weasley x reader x george weasley

requested: yes 

word count: 3k

warnings: references smut but it’s not graphic, fluff

A/N: i didn’t plan on writing a part 2 to this, but i think it turned out so well so thank you so much for requesting it @immajustreadwritereblog !! I hope you like it just as much as I do Xx Also, a HUGE thank you to everyone that’s been reading, commenting, & reblogging my work!! I posted two different stories  y e s t e r d a y & they’re both super close if not already at 100 notes!! not to mention i’m also close to 200 followers already! like that’s absolutely crazy!! I feel like I just started this blog so i’m just very overwhelmed and grateful to every one of you! I hope you continue to like my writing and will continue supporting me! I seriously love you all so much <3

Taglist: i’m just going to tag some people that had asked to be tagged in other stories of mine, message me if you’d like to be added or removed!

@justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213 @immajustreadwritereblog

You groan as you turn over in bed, waking up a bit. You hiss as your head is already pounding from the lack of sleep you’ve had recently. Not only have you been working, but you’d also spend much of the night cuddling with Fred and George and just enjoying each other’s presence.

Since seeing the twins again at Bill and Fleur’s wedding you had nearly moved in with them. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had to go back to school anyways so it’s not like you were missing much at the burrow.

Fred and George had asked you over for a week, which soon turned into two and then three until suddenly it’d had been nearly three months that you’d be there.

“Good morning, darling.” George smiles as he walks into the room carrying a mug of coffee.

“Morning, Georgie.” You smile, watching as he sets the mug down on the stand and then crawling on top of you, laying on top of your body as he wraps his arms around you.

You giggle, smiling widely as you kiss his forehead and run your fingers through his hair.

“Is someone a bit needy this morning?” You whisper, still playing with his hair as he whines a bit.

“I just need you to hold me.”

You smile and nod, kissing his forehead once more before letting him just lay there. Since you’ve sort of moved in with them, moments like this have happened more and more between all of you.

You've more than made up for those few months where you couldn’t see each other. Both of them are showing you more affection than all your years combined, however. It’s almost like they’re trying to catch up on all the time they’ve wanted to hold you and be close to you that they were too afraid do at hogwarts with so many other people around. it was obvious you were all close friends, but truthfully you all had been wary of being too cuddly to prevent any unwanted questions about your guys' relationship from peers and professors.

You weren’t going to complain, you loved the boys and any time you were held by them or got quick kisses from them made you more than happy. You still hadn’t shared your true feelings with them, but why would you when you already had this? If you told them you loved them you were afraid all of this would stop.

“Hey, George, I - what’ve we got here?” Fred asks as he walks into the bedroom, stopping and pouting when he sees George holding you.

“Morning, Freddie.” You smile, getting him to smile a little bit at you before going back to pout at his twin.

“Why am I not getting cuddled?”

“Because it’s my turn. I need some of y/n’s love this morning.” George mumbles out grumpily to his brother, his face pressed into your stomach.

“That’s not fair. You’re always cuddling her.”

“I got here first.” George argues and you sigh, shaking your head at the two.

One thing you could say for sure about these boys was that for being adults, they still very much acted like children at times. it was endearing in a way, however, because you were truly the only person who got to see them both like this.

Fred had made his way over to the two of you and was attempting to push his twin out of the way so he could have you instead. You sigh, chuckling ever so slightly.

“That’s enough you two. I am more than capable of loving you both.”

“You are?” They ask simultaneously, Fred looking up at you as George finally lifts his head from your stomach.

“Of course I am. I’ve loved you both up until now, haven’t I?” You chuckle, not yet realizing what you’ve admitted.

“You love us?” Fred asks, wanting to smile but in total disbelief that you would actually love the both of them like they do you.

“Of course I do.” You smile, pushing back the hair that’s resting on his forehead.

“Like, you really love us?” George asks, sitting up and straddling your body.

“Like as more than friends?” Fred asks.

You nod, blushing madly but not breaking eye contact with either of them.

“Well, yeah. Do you think I’d let anyone else kiss me like you guys do? Do you think I’d have anyone else hold me as much?”

They both try to stop the smiles from taking over their faces, but neither of them succeed.

“We love you too.” George smiles, kissing your lips.

You freeze for a second as this is the first time either of them have actually kissed you. They’d kiss your skin and your head and hands, but they’ve never kissed you.

You smile into the kiss as you kiss him back, you’re lips seeming to perfectly fit his.

“We’ve loved you for years, but weren’t sure how you would take it. We were afraid you’d only love one of us, or even worse not loves us at all.” Fred admits as you and George pull away, George going to kiss and suck on your neck.

“Well I guess you both got pretty lucky, huh?” You smile, leaning over to press a kiss to Fred’s lips.

“That we did.” George smiles, kissing your neck again.

“Let us show you just how lucky you are.” Fred smiles as he pushes you down so you’re lying on your back, placing another loving kiss on your lips before laying down beside you and kissing down your body.

“Boys.” You gasp as Fred kisses just below you belly button, working on removing your shirt as he trails kisses up your belly.

“We’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” Fred admits breathily, as he cups your breasts.

“I love you.” You sigh as George lifts your shirt over your head as Fred works on removing you’re bra.

“Take it all in, princess. This is all for you right now.” Fred smiles, kissing your lips as George presses kisses to your bare thighs below your pajama shorts.

~.~

You can’t help but be happy that night when the three of you head over to the burrow for Christmas dinner with the family. You had finally confessed your feelings to the boys you’ve been crushing on since the second year and Merlin did it work out in your favour.

Not only did they both like you back, but you found out pretty quickly just how blessed you were with these two. They certainly knew what in the bloody hell they were doing when showing you just how lucky you were.

“Merry Christmas, Molly.” You smile, hugging the woman who’s been a second mom to you as you get inside the house.

“Merry Christmas, dear. It’s wonderful to see you again. How has it been living with Fred and George?” She asks as the two hug their father and siblings.

You smile at them, loving how close they were with their family. This is honestly the only thing you've wished for for so many years. You spent hours upon hours imagining what it'd be like to be a part of a loving family with a loving partner that's proud to show you off to them. Little did you expect when meeting Fred and George, that they'd be the ones to give it to you.

“It’s been really nice. I’ve never realized how much I miss them when we’re apart.” You admit, chuckling as you get your jacket off.

She smiles at you, taking your jacket and setting it over the back of one of the kitchen table chairs.

“For the record, we miss you too whenever you’re not around.” George smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist as Fred hangs his around your shoulders.

They still can’t believe what had finally happened earlier. It almost felt like a faraway dream, but knew differently when they could both recall the taste of your lips and your scent. They couldn’t wait to get you back in bed tonight. Now that you were theirs, they didn't plan on spending much time away from you.

They'd never admit it, but those few months you guys spent apart were literal torture for them. So many nights the two of them had laid awake in their separate beds wishing they could conjure you there with them. They had missed the faintly sweet smell of your perfume that felt like home to them. They missed your body heat that was never enough to keep them warm if needed, but was comforting nonetheless. They missed having your voice and laugh fill the space around them.

“For Merlin's sake, you three look so cute together. When will you finally get together?” She chuckles, bringing a blush to your cheeks as you gaze down at the floor.

You look up at the twins as they smile down at you. After you had all finished this morning and lay in the post-orgasmic bliss, they finally asked you to be theirs and theirs only, kissing your fingers and nose and shoulders, pressing quick kisses to your lips as you said yes.

“Well, mum.” George starts, as you smile.

You knew she’d be excited. You had the inkling suspicion that she’s been well aware of your feelings for each other long before you guys were.

“Surprise.” Fred says, smiling at you and then over at his mother.

“No! Really?!” She gapes, smiling widely as she clasps her hands together.

“What happened?” Arthur asks, as the family come rushing to the kitchen.

“Wait, did they finally get together?!” Ginny squeals, rushing over to you as she notices how the twins are holding you.

“We did.” George chuckles, kissing your forehead as their mum and sister gasp, Ginny squealing some more in excitement.

“I knew it! I knew they liked each other!” She cheers, hugging you three and jumping in excitement.

“It’s about time. Bloody hell, it’s only taken you five years to get here.” Ron states, earning a smack in the head from Hermione.

“What? It’s true.” He pouts, rubbing the place hermione smacked him.

“Yeah, but you don’t need to point it out. Just be happy for them, Ronald.”

You three chuckle at the younger sibling and his girlfriend before each of your boyfriends give you a sweet kiss on the lips to remind you just how much they love you, even if it had taken five years to admit it.

✨BONUS✨

“Freddie, Georgie. It’s too early to be up.” You groan as the two of them are kissing you and tracing their fingers along your sides or arms. Essentially they’re just not letting you sleep and you’re not sure why.

“Princess, today’s a special day.” Fred smiles, placing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“It’s my birthday, I’d like to sleep in a bit longer.” You huff, burying your face into the pillows.

You can feel George start kissing at your shoulder as he traces patterns into you thighs. You're not gonna lie and say it wasn’t turning you on, but it was certainly annoying you.

“Guys” you sigh as Fred sucks on the spot just below your earlobe.

“Are you really going to complain when you get to wake up to this?” Fred asks, chuckling at you.

“You two are unbelievable. I swear to Merlin you’re the horniest guys I’ve ever met.” You huff, turning over so your laying on your back

“And that’s a bad thing?” George asks, kissing your lips.

“Not bad, but annoying at times.” You quip, smirking and kissing him back as Fred traces patterns into the skin where your shirt has risen.

“We just want to treat the birthday girl to a  good morning. We have a few things planned for today and thought you’d enjoy this first.” He smiles, placing a few hot kisses to your neck.

“You know what I'd like even better?" you ask, smiling as you loosely wrap your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his lips as he keeps tracing his finger over your thighs.

"What's that, darling?"

"Some breakfast in bed. Maybe some pancakes and hot chocolate. With some strawberries and bananas cut up on the side."

Fred chuckles as George smiles at you, biting his lip as he admires your beauty.


"I'm sure we could do that for you, princess. After we finish here." Fred smiles, kissing your nose causing you to scrunch it because it tickles.

"I'm holding you to it, Weasleys." you smirk, moaning as george presses his finger against you in just the right spot.

~.~

As promised, Fred and George cooked you breakfast after you had all finished and you hopped in the shower. You sigh contently as the warm water hits your back. It's been just over a year and a half that the three of you have been together and you don't think you've ever been happier.

Sure you guys had your problems from time to time, usually one of the boys getting jealous for some silly reason or you getting upset with their continued immaturity on some topic or another, but you were always able to resolve it and move forward. Somehow you three just worked.

You rinse off your body and make sure the majority of your conditioner was rinsed out of your hair before you shut off the water and step out of the large shower. that is one thing you loved about this apartment, was how large the shower was. It was a walk in with a rain shower head and more than enough room for you, fred, and george to shower together.

You dry yourself off with a towel before wrapping your hair up in it and sliding your silk robe over your arms, tying it in a loose bow at your waist.

"Don't you look stunning." fred smiles at you when you walk up to the island and sit down. He serves you a plate of pancakes with a swirl of whipped cream on top along with some sliced strawberries and bananas next to them.

You smile, blowing a kiss at him as you take a bite of the food.

"mm, thank you loves." you smile at the two of them when george sets a mug of hot chocolate in front of you.

"I love you two so much. I hope you know that." You smile, taking another bite of your pancakes as Fred hands George a plate of pancakes and takes one for himself.

"We love you, darling." george smiles.

"More than you could ever know." fred adds.

you nod and smile at the two, feeling your heart inflate with love. you honestly aren't sure what you would be doing with yourself if you didn't have these two.

~.~

You smile as you take in the scene around you. After a day spent shopping around muggle London as well as diagon alley with fred and george, you were now having a beautiful dinner with the rest of the weasley's at your guys' shared apartment.

Fred and George had prepared a wonderful chicken casserole with bannocks (biscuits/rolls) and had invited their parents, their siblings (Ron, Ginny, Bill and Fleur being the only ones who came), harry, hermione, and some of the members of the order, including Sirius, Lupin and Tonks. You really couldn't have asked for a better evening. You were surrounded by people who loved and cared for and who loved and cared for you.

"I think it's about time for gifts, don't you, princess?" Fred asks after a few minutes of everyone chatting after eating.

"Oh, uh, if that's what everyone would like to do? I don't mind waiting." you smile.

"Yes, let's see you open gifts! I just know you're going to love mine." ginny smiles and you chuckle.

"alright, then. You guys tell me what i'm doing."

Fred and george smile as they start handing you gifts that you open one by one. Eventually you get down to one last gift that everyone seems excited about.

You look at it confused as it's such a small box, yet the twins had purposefully held it until last.

"go on, open it up, dear." your hear molly say and you smile, working on carefully ripping open the wrapping around it.

"What did you guys get me? As if you haven't already done enough for me today." you chuckle, looking at your boyfriends.

"just open it. I think you'll like it." fred smiles and george urges you to keep opening it.

you chuckle lightly, shaking your head as you continue unwrapping it to find a small, black velvet box. Suddenly you realize what it is and look up, mouth agape.

"you didn't. did you?" you ask, tears already starting to build in your throat and behind your eyes as you look over at the two red heads standing behind everyone else smiling directly at you.

"we did." george smiles as they both walk over to you, kneeling in front of you, fred taking the box from your hands and opening it to reveal a stunning two band ring.

you can't believe this, letting out a small gasp and covering your mouth as it hangs open when you finally see the ring in all its beauty. the first band is thin, consisting solely of tiny diamonds around the entire circumference. the second band is just as thin, also consisting of tiny diamonds around the circumference, but this one sporting a single diamond in the middle.

"y/n, darling, we love you more than life itself. we're honestly not sure what we would do with ourselves if we didn't have you." fred starts.

"fred and I were so excited when you told us you loved us that day just over a year and a half ago. we're aware that this may seem real sudden as we haven't been dating terribly long, but in our hearts we knew we wanted to be with you for life since our fifth year at hogwarts at least. it's probably been longer than that in all honesty." george chuckles, smiling at you as tears threaten to spill out of your eyes.

"we would be the happiest men alive if you agree to marry us. in return, we would do everything in our power to make you the happiest woman in the world. What do you say, princess?" fred asks, him and george watching you as you nod, choking back a sob as you answer.

"yes. yes! i can't imagine saying anything but yes. I love you two more than anything in this life." you smile, tears now free falling down your cheeks as you pull the two of them into a hug while everyone cheers around you.

"we're so happy for you three. you truly have no idea what it means to your father and I to see you so happy and in love." molly smiles, a few tears falling from her eyes as she look on at the three of you, so obviously in love with each other.

"welcome to the family, y/n! we're going to have so much fun now that we're sisters." ginny cheers and you chuckle, wiping at your eyes as each of your fiancés’ place a band on your finger, the diamond encrusted one going on first, followed by the one with the single diamond.

"we love you, darling." george smiles as he kisses you, holding your waist.

"so much." fred adds, taking his turn kissing you when george steps back.

[alittlextrathatway]

Penelope/Colin: “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave.”

YAY SOMETHING BESIDES BRETTSEY. (Not that I don’t love them.) I’ve never written Polin before! I’m excited to play! 🙌🏻 Thank you!

How about a modern AU for this one? Just cause.

******

It all started because of the pandemic.

He’d been perfectly happy traveling. It’s not like he had anything else to occupy his time. He wasn’t particularly talented and he didn’t have any hobbies or interests. Aside from eating but he doubted his mother would approve of him becoming one of those professional hot dog eaters and he didn’t care enough for the piddly portions of fine dining to become a food critic.

The only thing that truly distracts him from his lack of drive or ambition is traveling — learning about the world and it’s many cultures.

He has journal after journal full of his discoveries and experiences. Travel is really his only love.

Which is why he’d stopped and started his studies so many times. He took a year between high school and college to backpack through Europe. Then another year after freshman year to “study abroad”, not that he actually studied. Which is why his mother forced him to come back and finish his third year stateside. After that, he’d set off traveling again. Every year he found another excuse not to come home for any longer than a month or two, allowing him to put off his final year.

It’s not as if he’s getting a degree in anything useful. He’s an English major. And it’s not as if his career isn’t already decided for him. Upon graduation he’ll be given an office at Bridgerton Family Publishing. Doing what? Well, no one knows. Not even him.

So, what’s the rush?

He’d still be gone abroad right now if not for COVID forcing him to return home. God, he hates 2020. What a waste of a year. He came home too late for the spring 2020 term so he’s spent the last several months going absolutely crazy.

He’s a man of the world who is not being allowed to go out and see it. He can’t imagine anything more cruel.

Actually, no, he takes that back. There’s one thing:

Using the time he’s forced to stay in Mayfair to discover he’s completely and stupidly in love with his little sister’s best friend.

The friend who overheard him, last time he was home for any considerable length of time, declaring to his brothers that he would never be interested in her.

Because, of course, Colin Bridgerton is a colossal jackass who doesn’t know a good thing when it’s been staring him in the face his entire life.

There’s laughter coming from the direction of the foyer. Very distinctive laughing. One high and tinkling like a pretty little bell and the other deeper and hoarser. The alto to the other’s soprano. The alto in this case is his younger sister, Eloise, and the soprano is Penelope.

The woman he should have noticed long before now.

He gets up from where he’s lounging on the sofa, mournfully watching the Travel Channel, and takes his plate full of sandwiches with him.

He finds them giggling and applying lipstick in the mirror by the front door. They look dressed to go out. Eloise in her slick tailored pant suit and intricately adorned lace top, in monochromatic lavender. And Penelope in…

Holy shit, what is that?

Apparently, it’s the instrument of his imminent death if the erratic beating of his heart is any indication. He’s going to have some sort of attack and go into cardiac arrest right here in the foyer of his childhood home.

It’s a tight forest green dress that has an off the shoulder neckline. It hugs her curves so perfectly that he thinks someone must have sewn it onto her. It shows the perfect amount of skin along her neck and shoulders, giving just a tiny glimpse of cleavage.

And she’s had a haircut since she was here yesterday. Her ginger locks now rest against her cheeks in a wavy stylish bob. She was beautiful before. He was never blind to that as some other people around Pen have proven to be, but now...

She’s absolutely stunning.

So stunning that other people will surely see what he sees. And he’s grateful for that, truly. She deserves to be seen as she is — brilliant and beautiful — but that means he’s about to have competition while trying to win her over. And he is not grateful for that.

He’s been trying to be more forward with her when they’re alone but that doesn’t happen often and he’s not sure Penelope takes him very seriously. (No one does.) She seems to always be in disbelief when he flirts with her.

“Where are you two off to?” He asks, leaning against the wall opposite the mirror.

“Double date,” Eloise says, fluffing her hair in the mirror. “Pen arranged it. She met someone extremely gorgeous at the library today.”

Penelope blushes and grins demurely. “It’s the magic of a fresh cut,” she says motioning to her new hair. “He was there with his friend and we were all scrambling for resources for our bibliographies together and he asked if I wanted to get dinner and I asked if Eloise could come. No big deal.”

“It doesn’t look as if it’s not a big deal,” Colin observes, his gaze sweeping over Penelope from head to toe.

“His father owns that new super exclusive restaurant Kate’s been begging Anthony to take her too. You know, La Table Gourmande?” Eloise explains.

“The one that told Anthony the next available reservation was in two months? That restaurant?” Colin asks, trying not to scowl.

Really, there was no need for this guy to show off. He seems a bit full of himself.

“That’s the one,” Penelope replies with a nod. “He says he can get us the Chef’s table tonight. I’ve never done anything like that before. It sounds exciting. Might be the closest I ever get to authentic French cuisine. For a while anyway.”

Okay, so now he feels like a heel for wanting to keep her from going out. He knows he’s lucky his family is so well off. It allows him to travel. Penelope’s family, while not destitute, has spent most of their surplus funds putting three daughters, soon to be a fourth, through school. In fact, if not for a distant rich aunt who died they wouldn’t even have been able to afford that.

Any money Penelope used to travel would have to be her own, and he isn’t sure how much of that she has.

“Pen,” Eloise calls, interrupting Colin’s thoughts. “Have you seen my clutch? Did I bring it down?”

“I don’t see it anywhere,” Penelope says with a shake of her head. “Did you leave it on your dresser?”

Eloise groans in irritation, turning toward the main staircase of their massive house. “I guess I did. I’ll be right back.”

Finally, they’re alone. Colin clears his throat and sets the plate of sandwiches he’d been snacking on down on the hall table. He crosses the space until he’s standing mere inches away from her.

“Don’t go out tonight. I can take you somewhere else. Somewhere better,” Colin suggests.

“Better?” Penelope asks skeptically.

He nods. “I have a friend who opened a restaurant here that I met while I was in Nice. It’s smaller than that La Table Gourmand monstrosity and not quite considered fine dining but it’s real. It’s better. It’ll be closer to actually being in France than anything in that obnoxious place.”

“I don’t see why I can’t go with Marcus tonight and then you some other time,” she tells him, lifting one perfect brow and pursing her lips.

“This guy sounds like a prick,” Colin says with a scoff. “Bragging about his father’s connections on the first date? That’s not a good sign, Pen. Trust me, I know these things. I’m a guy.”

“Maybe,” she says with a shrug, a small knowing grin on her lips. “But I think I should decide that for myself. Don’t you?”

That grin…

She knows exactly what he’s trying to do.

She’s being difficult on purpose.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t leave,” she challenges him, continuing to grin smugly.

Well, if that’s the game she wants to play then so be it.

“Why waste a night figuring out what I already know when you could just let me take you out instead for what, we both know, would be a better time?” Colin asks, caressing the length of Penelope’s arm with a light tender touch.

She sucks in a breath at the contact, but doesn’t show any weakness in her expression. “Yes, but going out with Marcus would be a date that might actually lead to something. What would be the purpose of ditching a real date for you instead?”

“Oh, you want it to lead to something?” He asks, a smirk growing on his face as he backs her up toward the wall.

“Y—yes,” she stammers, her grin slipping as nerves shine in her eyes.

Her back hits the wall and he brings one hand to her cheek, cupping her face and trailing his thumb along her cheekbone.

He leans down, nearly closing the distance between them but stops just short of kissing her. “Come out with me, Pen, and you can choose where it leads. I’ll give you whatever future I have, even if I have no idea what it is. You set the terms, you call the shots.”

Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush but she instinctively leans into his hand. Call him a cocky bastard, but that’s the moment he knows he’s won. The moment he knows she’ll choose him.

“I set the terms?” She asks, biting her bottom lip while she stares at his.

He nods, waiting for the moment she leans up and kisses him.

“Well, then you know what I think?” She asks, rhetorically while she rests a hand on his chest.

“Tell me,” he pleads.

She smiles wickedly and pushes him away by one step. “I think you could do with some healthy competition.”

She sidesteps him and saunters off to the front door, leaving him gaping at her like a fool.

Like a besotted, astonished, completely smitten fool.

Eloise reappears, patting Colin’s shoulder as she follows after Penelope. “Tell mom we’ll be back late.”

They leave, the door shuts, and all he can think is…

Well played, Penelope Featherington.

But the Bridgertons are famously competitive and this game is only just beginning. He’ll win her over yet.

Wait and see.

[bookofmirth]

What are your thoughts on why Azriel’s shadows disappear around Elain? Cause I see a lot of people claiming it’s romantic that he doesn’t need them with her while others say it hints at something more sinister like Dark!Elain. I can’t see either one tbh cause his shadows are a part of him. He’s had them to protect and guide him so why would they disappear around Elain if she was a threat? And why do they swoon and dance with Gwyn if Az and Elain are possibly romantic? My thought was maybe it’s because Elain and sunshine may be closer than we think which makes shadows disappear, but idk. Like maybe her seer power was tapping into her mate’s power without realizing it cause they’re bound? Is this one of those things where we’re reading too much into it when it’s just SJM just being herself and nothing is that deep? Help me Obi Les Kenobi, you’re my only hope.

I love youuuu I lol’d at the end of this. It got pretty long so part of it is under the cut.

Okay so this is going to be my whole half-assed attempt at talking about his shadows. I’m not going to get too deep with it because we have 3.5 books of his shadows doing their thing and that is TOO MUCH for me to sort through. However, I do have an idea.

(as usual, idfk what other people are saying about this, I’m just basing these ideas off of my reading and my previous thoughts about the characters.)

The first thing that came to mind is that Azriel’s shadows know not only what he needs, but what the people around him need. I know that sjm said that we won’t find out if they are sentient until we get his book story, but I think they are a bit of both - an extension of him, not totally in his control but privy to his needs and thoughts in a way nothing and no one else is. 

In acomaf, Azriel tried right away to make human Elain comfortable, for pragmatic reasons - they needed to use her house, and Nesta would be convinced if Elain could be convinced. “Elain can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles”, Feyre tells Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel right before they all meet for dinner. Enter handsome, non-threatening Azriel, the nice little bat boy who would never hurt a fly (which we know is a lie, but Elain doesn’t need to know that, ever). He creates a persona for her that he know will be convincing. Elain is convinced. She talks to Nesta. They all get the mortal queen meeting Chez Archeron.

Tl;dr for this whole post if no one wants to click is that Azriel can be himself around Gwyn, to the point of sharing personal secrets. He can’t be himself around Elain, and his shadows are a part of him. But read on for more explanation.

During this meeting, Feyre also notes, and is grateful, that Az’s shadows are nowhere to be found. This would fit the idea of them being an extension of him and knowing what he and the people around him need. Fae shadows? Will be creepy to humans. Best put them away.

Okay, just glancing through acomaf I noticed that Elain is getting married to Graysen five months after Feyre returns. That means that she met Az, and then four months later slept with Graysen, and then months after that was still mourning him. Just saying.

So based on that reading, and the way that Azriel generally fades into the background until he is needed to put on one of his “personas”, the shadows play a big role in which “Azriel” people get to see. Azriel met Elain with his shadows hidden because he needed to appear non-threatening. As best they can, they continue to stay away from her when Az is around. 

In acosf I know that people are hung up on the fact that the shadows seem to want to protect Elain when she and Nesta are fighting. Now we know that Nesta would never truly, mortally hurt Elain. No matter how mad they are at each other, there was no real danger there. It was either a gross overreaction, or Az is actually overstepping his bounds. He acts the same way around Mor, too.

So people have noted that generally, the shadows disappear around Elain, yes? Elain, light personified, who basks in the sun, whose main personality trait is “likes outside and gardens”, wouldn’t be comfortable if Azriel’s shadows were around constantly. It’s kinda what you said, anon, I think it’s to do with Elain thriving in light, and Azriel’s shadows, which are a huge part of him, threatening that light.

Az and the shadows are aware of that. She’s still the sister of his High Lord and High Lady. She deserves respect. She deserves to be at ease, especially given what she has gone through. It’s a perfectly normal thing for us to have a persona around one person, but then to be open and free and our full selves with other people. I notice this difference in myself even among my friends.

While I don’t think this means that anyone, Gwyn or Elain, are evil, I think that Az cannot be his full self around Elain. He told Gwyn, “I AM a shadowsinger”, which means that there is a whole piece of him that does not feel comfortable in Elain’s presence because it would make her uncomfortable. I don’t think that it’s fear, or her being secretly evil, or anything beyond the shadows’ (and by extension Azriel’s) acknowledgement of the fact that he has a persona or role to play with Elain, and he must maintain that.

Re: Elain - Azriel can’t be himself around her. She doesn’t know the full extent of his job or the torture, and he tries to make his shadows less threatening, too.

Now, Gywn! Our little Carynthian Valkyrie. 

I’ve seen an idea that Azriel’s shadows dance to her lure???? Like????? His shadows have done nothing except protect him, and so if there was anything wrong with Gwyn, the shadows would have warned him. 

I see the way that the shadows react around Gwyn as indicating basically the opposite of what it indicates for Elain. Azriel is comfortable around her to the point where his shadows don’t feel the need to observe, to be defensive. They are playful, which is something that we never seen from Azriel himself, and so I am now headcanoning that eventually their playfulness will rub off on him?

And then in this scene Az reveals something intensely private about himself. This is about 130 pages before the end of the book and there is never a change in behavior from him or the shadows. (Sidenote, Elain asking Az if he can fly is NOT the same, I love her but what a stupid fucking question, he has giant ass wings. And that’s not something about himself that he would try to guard from the rest of the world, it’s pretty obvious.)

So anyway, I hope that all makes sense. I’ve never really put thought into his shadows before and I based this on what the book says, rather than trying to created some extended interpretation that relies on interpretations of interpretations of theories etc etc. I might add onto it as I think of more things! I could go more into the whole Az persona thing if people want. I’m kinda enjoying this whole being able to share my thoughts about him! Since for the past four years I knew I’d get hate for it. 

[wander-over-the-words]

Random silly question..what’s it like in the UK? 😃

It’s. nice? I mean I like it lmao. I’ve never had any plans to move elsewhere in the world (or in the country really) cause I’m perfectly happy where I am. 

But UH to be more specific! I can’t speak for the entire UK, obviously, but the part where I live is. satisfyingly in the middle of ‘in the city’ and ‘in the country’. It’s ‘in the city’ enough that anything we could really need isn’t at all far - got the essentials like schools, a hospital, a GP, fire station, entire streets of shops, even got a goddamn crematorium, and then the more entertaining stuff like parks, cinema, bowling alley/arcade, takeaway places, all that sort of stuff, and they’re all a short distance away. But it’s also out of the city enough that there’s just. space y’know? We don’t get the hustle and bustle of traffic, there’s tons of room for especially dog owners to take their pets cause all the parks are massive, and nothing really. happens around here, heh. I hear the occasional shouting from people in the street (either happy drunk shouting or loud argument shouting; I won’t try and claim everybody around here is super chill or ‘we all know each other’ or anything like that), but we rarely ever have anything ‘big’ happen around here. 

Not to mention, where I live is just easy to be in. It’s not uncommon to go out and for there to be next to nobody else in the street. Easy to navigate and find things you need. Lots of buses have routes through the place, so, hey, if riding on the trademark double decker buses is at all an appeal of being in England to you, well *gestures to the bus stop* there they are lmao

It’s worth mentioning that London is. ehhhh nrgnrng. Like I do get why people go there, especially since it’s the Big Guy in terms of locations in England, but personally? Meh. London’s just very…busy. Everything’s expensive, it’s noisy, it can be a BITCH to navigate, and - in my opinion - it just feels…claustrophobic. Not to mention, London at night is like. borderline dangerous ngnrgnr. I don’t mean to discourage anyone from going, but London just ain’t for me, personally

HOWEVER, there are still locations in London that are pretty cool. If you go there for anything, go there for the theatres. I won’t lie to you; I dunno how it is elsewhere, but theatres in London are known for being aahhhh pricey, especially when it comes to stuff you can buy in there (eat before you go, and bring water), but there’s lots of cool theatres in London and they sell awesome merch for the plays you go and see (my favourite hoodie is the one my mama bought me when she went to see Wicked with her sister). The Globe and the O2 are obviously big names amongst them (and are cool af; I’ve been to both), but my favourites are the Hammersmith Apollo and the Shaftesbury Theatre. Have some good memories of those places.

(Special mention to the Shaftesbury for having a pop culture shop around the corner from it that has. fuckin anything comic book fans could ever need like holy shit. Has an entire floor dedicated to printed comic books and another dedicated to the merch. I could’ve spent hours in there if Mum and I didn’t have a musical to go and see)

And as much a reputation as the River Thames has (because, yes, the water isn’t great; people are trying to work on it), it really is nice to just sit and chill by it, and there’re plenty of places in London to do that. One of my favourite memories with my friends is when we sat on a small hill by the Thames after going to the Tate Modern (art museum), ate pizza and just talked for ages. Was a very calm time.

But, hey, if more ‘touristy’ things appeal to you, you can always listen to Big Ben once they finish up fixing everything in the tower (Big Ben, by the by, is the bell; Elizabeth Tower is the clock tower it’s in) or go on the London Eye or into the Shard. If you’re scared of heights, ahhhhh don’t go on the London Eye or into the Shard nrgnng

Weather-wise: obviously, we have a reputation for it being very. rainy in England, but honestly? It’s not that bad. If anything, it’s just cloudy more often than most, but it’s not like we frequently have the ‘dark storm clouds’ or anything like that. Still bright out. And maybe it’s because I’ve lived here all my life, but the weather is perfect for a guy who in a game of Would You Rather would say he prefers to be cold than hot because yeah England is rarely hot. It’s why those heatwaves took us the fuck out.

Our summers - not counting the most recent one - can be pretty bad by our own standards, but they’re manageable, and nice to people who look forward to em. Winters are pretty harsh when it comes to temperature; we used to get pretty deep snow when I was a kid, but nowadays we more often get just. slush and ice and sometimes hail. The wind can get pretty bad some years too - we’ve had it knock down trees and one time it destroyed the fence between us and our neighbours. But, again, it’s all manageable. Floods are really the only natural disaster we get, and even then, I’ve never experienced one; we don’t get earthquakes and we’ve had like two hurricanes in the last three decades or so (which lemme tell you, for someone with a fear of natural disasters, is fuckin great). 

The part of England where I live is, unfortunately, one of those that doesn’t really get stars. I’m lucky if I look up and see the smallest lil dots of stars at night, but I still enjoy the atmosphere that nighttime around here gives me. It’s cool and quiet. Most noise you'll hear is maybe the odd get-together in a neighbour's garden, and even that's the soft beat of whatever music they're playing and the distant chatter. Can sometimes hear owls hooting from the park nearby. There’s something very comforting about the glow from a bus at night, when it’s opening its doors to let people on.

But, uh, yeah! That’s what it’s like in my neck of the woods, at least c: We definitely have our problems over here (*SIDE EYES OUR GOVERNMENT REAL HARD*), but I’ve honestly never rly wanted to live elsewhere. Maybe it is just because I’ve been here since I was born, but it really is just kinda. perfect for me, y’know? c:

[spiltscribbles]

How would you do a wolfstar fic based on the way I loved you by taylor swift? from remus' pov :)

~Notes: OMFG Nonny! I need you to understand that this ask threw me back to my Twilight days when I’d watch endless edits of Bella/Edward and this particular one with this song where for some reason Edward was both guys lksajghdsfjoieagh God what a time😂 So thank you and here’s a HC of how’d I write it becs I sorta hate all my writing rn rip fklsdghasdgh But JFC it got so fucking long!!! I’M SO SORRY!

.-

So It would be a muggle AU, non linear sort of thing where you’d see Lily and Remus just hanging out in his house on boxing day of their sixth year. And they’re shuffling through photos of themselves and friends at  Hogwarts. And Remus kind of just stops at this one, particular photo from second semester of last year, when he and Sirius were still going out.

James and Lily are in the background smiling straight on the camera, but the focus is mostly where Remus and Sirius are completely oblivious to the photo, and it’s obvious that Sirius is trying to drag him onto his lap, and Remus’s head is thrown back in laughter, and Sirius is looking at him in that grossly besotted way that softens his gorgeously angular features, and it’s just an absolute deluge of emotions for Remus.

So flashback

They first met when the marauders were auspiciously roomed together as young lads in Hogwarts, and Remus grew up in a quiet coastal town in the north of Wales where everyone knew everyone, and English was actually the second language, and to put it simply, being thrown into that space with the chaotic duo that are James and Sirius was a culture shock. Even Peter— who’s plummy and  who comes from a fine, upper middle class family and is at least familiar with them in the way that the patrician always are aware of one another. So Remus automatically felt like the odd boy out.

But that night, when he wakes up because he misses his Mam and Da, he finds the tallest boy— the one with striking pale eyes and an air of superiority that kind of got on Remus’s nerves, sitting on the windowsill and up at the stars— his namesake in particular. And so Remus joins him and tells him the love story of the moon and the sun that was his Mam’s favorite and it’s the first time they feel something neither of them know the name for quite yet.

Throughout the subsequent years the marauders grow as close as family, a brotherhood of sorts.  But they all know there are different manifestations of friendships within them. There’s Sirius and James who are the boisterous, bombastic ones that always seek the spotlight, and who can finish each others sentences and who cheer one each other along when it comes to their rowdiest of pranks. There’s Peter who’s always been intimidated by Sirius, and thankful for James’s friendship and comfortable with Remus because he’s the only one who never teased him. Then there’s James and Remus where they’ve always been impressed by one another, James because he knows Remus comes from humble beginnings and is bright in the way he works for everything he has and it’s never doubted he deserves it. And Remus is impressed over how much and how deeply James loves and cares about his chosen people, how he can inspire a crowd so effortlessly. But then, probably most peculiarly to Remus is his relationship with Sirius.

He doesn’t mean to sound rude or ungrateful, but his string to Sirius is  a relationship that absolutely eclipses all the others. It’s quiet in it’s intensity, but persistent like a heartbeat. It’s nights they spend trading stories by moonlight, and afternoons quizzing each other by the fire even though Sirius has always been naturally brilliant and Remus knows he’s just humoring him, but doesn’t call him on it because he hates the thought of it ending. It’s also evenings when James is at extra footie practice that Sirius teases him for, and Peter’s at chess club, and it’s just the pair of them, existing in each others space, doing whatever they want because it’s enough just to have the other there.

Remus is confused in third year when Sirius got especially pissy because Remus began hanging out more and more with the girl James has always targeted to being a know-it-all. And Remus was cross right back because they don’t even know Lily, and she’s a nice girl, and the only other Northerner like him in their entire year, and Sirius has no reason to be cross at him making a friend outside the marauders.

But then he got even MORE confused when Sirius asked him if he liked her. And Remus literally laughed out loud, which made Sirius scrunch his face sourly which just looked funny because his features are far too gorgeous to be put in such a nasty expression. And it’s nearly five minutes later when he catches his breath and tells Sirius that he and Lily are just friends and only friends. Comparing her to a sister, which became truth in the following years.

And it’s like a snap of the fingers when Sirius immediately smoothes out his face and grins cockily once more, and makes Remus promise that they don’t date any girls unless the others all approve. And Remus isn’t sure why Sirius’s intense focus on his love life makes something peculiar unfurl in his gut but he ignores it and shakes Sirius’s still too large hand— like a puppy needing to grow into his palms. And then they write up a contract and make James and Peter sign along with them in the codenames they came up with last year. Prongs for James because his hair is something gravity defying, Wormtail for Peter because of his pet rat, Padfoot for Sirius because of him asking sodding Minerva McGonagall— their head of house— if she was on her time of the month— as a first year when she gave him and James three weeks detention for a crude prank. And Moony for Remus who constantly got lost in his books and in his daydreams that it takes the others multiple times calling his name for him to be brought back to earth.

Remus kept the contract in his lovage, but never bothered to pull it out fourth year when Sirius suddenly became very, very aware of his good looks, and high social standing, and how any girl attracted to men would chew off her own leg to get a date with him— well save for the possibly only exception that is Lily Evans. And Remus had to just deal with it, and he did. He didn’t know why Sirius and his frequent, but short lasting flings got under his skin so thoroughly. It’s not like he’s annoyed over Peter and his girlfriend Eloise or how James is still going out with a couple different girls even though he’s near constantly flirting with Lily. And it’s not like the ones Sirius decides to go out with are annoying or anything. He really likes most of them. Like Marlene is absolutely hilarious, and Maci has the same world history class with Remus so they studied together a lot. And the rest have perfectly fine attitudes. It’s just— It’s just Sirius begins sleeping more often through the night instead of swapping stories with Remus, and isn’t readily available for whenever Remus needs to take a walk in the woods because he’s becoming full of anxiety over just about everything, and it’s just— He just misses Sirius a lot.

And Remus thinks he’s an idiot because why the fuck does he feel so territorial towards one of his best friends? Why doesn’t he act this way towards James or Peter or even Lily. He doesn’t ever feel this ridiculous, clawing emotion. Something he only calls by name, jealousy, when it’s late and quiet and he’s all alone. And Remus panics because he has no idea what this means, what or why he feels this way. Because he’s not a poof?? Is he? It’s not like he’s ever been especially interested in girls or their knickers, and if the other fifteen year old boys around him is anything to go by, that’s odd. But it’s not as if he’s especially interested in any other blokes either— anyone besides Sirius. Sirius and his artfully tousled black hair that tumbles down the nape of his neck and just a couple inches above his shoulders. and his piercing eyes that always seem as if they can look right into Remus’s soul and sift through all his points of diffidence. Sirius who’s always been there for Remus in ways Remus never even expected, even knew how to ask for. The boy who brings him hot chocolate on days his migraines are especially awful, and who always begs the Matron to stay over on the nights Remus is just forced to stay in the hospital wing when he has a flare up, and who always knows to ask the caretaker for a spare blanket at the start of every term because he knows Remus is always cold but would never dare ask himself. And God, just why does it have to be Sirius!

Strangely enough, it’s Sirius who answers the question in a non direct sort of way at the end of their fourth year when Remus asks him why he broke up with Isidora so publicly and a bit callously while they’re sitting on the balcony of the astronomy tower, trading their flask of gin that Sirius snuck away from his parent’s house over easter, staring down at the grounds and the lake and it’s a beautiful night, and Remus only sorta feels it how his heart twists while Sirius sits so close. And once the question spills out his lips, Sirius peers down at him in a very subdued, very weighty sort of way and he simply says, “she’s not you Moons.”

And it’s like Remus’s heart just freezes, refuses to continue beating with the shock, with the somber words spoken without an ounce of humor. And part of him is just waiting for the joke, for the other shoe to drop. He’s just  waiting for the overdone hand to his chest, and lips pretending to pucker for a smooch. He’s waiting for the ground to return but Sirius doesn’t move, and maybe this means that this is real, that it isn’t just in Remus’s head. so all he says is a simple, “oh” and the next thing he knows is that Sirius kisses him right then and there, and it’s beginning to shower from above,  and the kiss is a bit hard for his liking— more teeth than lips and a tongue that slips in with fervor— but Remus wouldn’t stop it for all the money in the world. Wouldn’t ever let go of his grip on Sirius’s broad shoulders, or move away from where Sirius’s arms are snaking around his narrow waste. Would pay anything just to constantly feel the weight of Sirius over him like this for forever.

He doesn’t know for how long they lied their in the pouring rain, just exchanging slow, lingering snogs, and tender touches that feel like a thousand flames. But Remus probably should’ve expected that the next morning, while they’re all preparing to board the train, Sirius doesn’t catch his eye or ever really speak to him. And that’s fine. Remus has been questioning his sexuality for a while now. Maybe Sirius is just confused or just nervous because they’ve been friends for so long. So he doesn’t mind. Ends up splitting his time on the train with the boys and with Lily and it’s all alright. When he gets home, he types Sirius a letter explaining to him that it’s fine, that they can take things slow, that they don’t have to call it anything yet, and he toys with that patch on his neck that’s still purple from Sirius’s mouth and he’s actually elated with the idea of it.

Sirius doesn’t answer the email

And he doesn’t answer the one after that either, or the ones that follow. And Remus eventually takes the hint when he gets a email from Peter who’s holidaying in France and asks Remus how hard he laughed from Sirius’s story about how he nearly pulled the mum of the latest London bird he’s shagging that he wrote them about. And Remus is equal parts embarrassed and self rebuking. Because he’s such an idiot, Sirius was probably annoyed from his constant emails like he’s some jilted ex lover, like the girls he pulls along. And Remus is really a fucking idiot. So he rings Lily and they meet at a pub that’s equidistant from both of them, and he didn’t have to tell her what happened because she’s really just a genius, so they drink the night away and he swears off love and she swears to kick James in the Bollocks at least once this year, and it’s the first time all summer Remus laughed.

By the time they got to fifth year, Remus had ranted enough to Lily that he was over it— well erm, mostly at least. It still hurt like nothing else when he first spotted Sirius on the train, looking taller and leaner and tanner and just sexier as all get out. ANd it makes something ugly twist in his gut, laughing at himself over thinking  that a practical demigod would be interested in someone who prefers books to most people and who has to wear charity shop clothes when he’s not in his school uniform and just— He’s an idiot. So when Sirius steps into the cart with Remus, James and Peter, and his look of contrition tosses to Remus  a beat passes. And  it’s quickly willed away when Remus just smiles warmly, tries to silently tell him not to worry about it, and asks out loud if he’d like a chocolate frog.

And it’s normal, it’s fine, the first weeks of term are typical as ever for the boys. They commit pranks on the creepy wankers like Snape and Avery. And they laugh at James’s latest failed attempt to woo Lily. And they spend all nighters in the library and celebrate with pickup games of footie. And it’s pretty bloody brilliant, but then Sirius’s birthday hits, and they plan a surprise for him on the astronomy tower in the middle of the night, filled with food and drinks  and friends. ANd Remus gets the key as prefect, and Peter sneaks in the booze with his free afternoon off and James make sure that everyone they like is there to celebrate the greatest git they all know. And Sirius is so, so happy when he sees it. Wich of course he is, Remus knows how difficult his parents are, how lonely he can get over the breaks without the lads. So he’s so, so happy to see that look of mirth twinkling in Sirius’s pale eyes, and he does everything he can to make it so Sirius is laughing all night long.

But towards the end, no matter how much he wants to make it the best night for Sirius, he just has to get away from the sight of Sirius dancing obscenely with Florence Whittemore. Because he doesn’t have to be a damn martyr. 

He goes to a private nook on the rooftop, and pulls out the pre-rolled spliff to light up, only sorta surprised when Sirius makes his way to him— far away from the crowd and away from the music. And he plops down on the step right  under his, obviously loaded and smiling like the sun, crooning “Moony,” over and over again and Remus can only dimple down  indulgently at him, carding his hand through Sirius’s hair gently, spurred on by the drinks and the weed and just by that quiet, unassuming love he has held for him like a torch all these years.

“Did you wear my favorite sweater on purpose?” Sirius asks, a bit slurred, tilting his head so it rests on Remus’s shoulder and he can feel the tendrils of his warm breath brushing against his neck, and Remus suddenly feels like he’s on fire again. 

And he looks down at the green sweater he’s got on, a gift from his Mam for his fifteenth last year and the one that he was wearing the first night Sirius kissed him. So, yeah maybe Remus wore it subconsciously precisely because of that. But he’d never tell him.

And neither of them could say who leaned forward first, but they were kissing again and it still feels like everything splendid and like Remus’s mind is melting right out of his head and it’s so fucking miraculous.

But then they hear a coughing and they spring apart in panic, only to meet Lily’s shrewd, green eyes and she’s glaring at Sirius like she could scorch a whole right through him. And she tells them that there’s a Filch sighting and they need to get to the dorms pronto. 

Sirius scrambles up, looking at them panicky like he doesn’t know what to say, but then Remus tells him to hurry along because he and Lily—as Prefects— are the only ones who won’t get in trouble for being out. And Sirius looks at Remus like there’s a thousand things he’d like to say, but nods soberly and sprints away, and Remus is objected to Lily’s silent, judgmental worrying for their entire track back downstairs.

Remus isn’t surprised when Sirius tells them all that he’s dating Florence now over breakfast, and Peter gazes at him in aw at pulling the fittest girl in their year, and James claps his back hardily and talks about the double dates they can go on now since he’s still dating Jeanette. As if James isn’t glancing back at Lily even as he’s speaking it, and as if Sirius isn’t peering over apologetically to Remus as if there was ever anything between them.

However, what does surprise Remus is when late that night, Sirius pads over to his bed in the middle of the night like they haven’t done since they were both 14, and they’re lying down, not looking at each other before Sirius kisses him again and Remus lets himself enjoy it, let himself melt into him. But then he remembers the pretty blonde girl who he’s actually dating and it hurts like nothing else when he tells him the next night when Sirius makes the same track to his bed that they can’t do anything because they’re going to ruin their friendship and he has a girlfriend and Remus just can’t. So Sirius nods, tells him he’s always been the best of them, and kisses his forehead before returning to his own bed. And Remus silently refutes the comment because he hates not letting himself even get the scraps.

So Sirius dates Florence for the next month or so, and Remus puts up with it because of course he does. Because if it’s Sirius’s friendship or nothing at all, he’d always pick the former. Would always want Sirius to be with him in anyway possible. But then over winter break he officially runaways from his barmy ancestral home and goes off to James’s house in the countryside. And he texts Remus, begging him to come visit for New Year’s Eve. So Remus does, even gets Lily to tag along.

And once they get there, Sirius just smacks a big one on him in front of literally a whole house of people— including James and James’s Parents and all the Potters’ friends— and he tells him that he loves him and that he doesn’t want to pretend they’re only friends anymore, and Remus is blushing and grinning, and he thinks that Sirius is the maddest bloke he knows and he loves him to.

And it’s good between them, it’s remarkable. Sirius is passionate about every aspect in his life so it’s no surprise how remarkable of a boyfriend he is, how his every splendid gesture is large and vivacious and vibrant in ways Remus can’t even describe.

But the thing is that Remus is just simply not like that, has never been loud or commanding a presence. When he’s the leader of something like a prank execution or a school project, he prefers to get input from the others, make them think they did an equal amount of work even if Remus was the one behind it all. He’s always been reserved, quiet. And it’s not that he’s shy, it’s just he doesn’t ever see a reason to make a big show out of everything. And Sirius has known him for over half a decade now, so Remus assumes that he gets it.

But then it’s apparent that sometimes he doesn’t think that Remus loves him as much— which is so bloody bonkers Remus can’t even fathom it. or he thinks that Remus is just going with the motions, dating Sirius just because Sirius asked him too. And that gets Remus mad, absolutely fucking furious. The idea that Sirius can doubt his emotions like that.

“Get your cocky head out your arse and think about how not everyone has to be as ruddy loud as you are.” Remus had yelled one night in the common room in early February when Sirius tried giving him a ridiculous teddy bear holding a heart as if he’s an actual sodding bird and he refused it and Sirius got tetchy. But then Sirius had laughed like the mad man he is and then snogged him within an inch of his life and Remus thinks he got his point across.

Their one, really huge blow out, is on Remus’s birthday when he gets to his birthday dinner with his parents who came up to celebrate. And Sirius was visibly, painfully drunk and he spluttered the whole three hours and Remus was secretly thankful that his parents only thought he was a friend and not his sodding boyfriend and by the time they got to the dorm Remus had shouted, really fucking shouted at him. Had screamed things that he would regret just as soon as they came out. But it was ridiculous and Sirius could be such an arse sometimes. And Sirius had yelled back about how fucking stuffy Remus is about everything and claiming that they didn’t even notice and who the fuck cares. And Remus was shaking so hard, grabbed his pillow and blankets to sleep in the common room instead.

But of course, he knew that Sirius would follow him, that Sirius always prodded whenever Remus wanted to just runaway, that he could never leave well enough alone. And they argue again but it quickly became them rutting up against each other in the middle of the night, atop the sofa where anyone could walk down an catch them an Remus didn’t care, just needed to feel Sirius, feel him all over.

Remus only found out the next day by a red faced and quiet Sirius that he was nervous, that he didn’t mean to get so sloshed but he’s already failed with his parents and he didn’t want Remus’s to know how much of a fucking screw up he is and Remus just kissed him gently and called him an idiot and they never spoke about it again.

A few weeks later, Sirius goes off to holiday with the Potters on the Moroccan coast and Remus was only sorta jealous, but he understood that Sirius has always starved for a family, a real family, and that this is good for him. And the Potters are lovely people, and nearly as wealthy as the Blacks— well erm, as close as can be possible for ordinary folks. And James is Sirius’s brother in all but blood. Of course Sirius wouldn’t want to spend the week in Remus’s sleepy hometown with his bookish father and somewhat smothering Mam. But then he gets a call at two in the morning— so three in the morning by them— and It’s a pissed Sirius screaming into the phone over the music of some club and Remus hears a girl’s voice crowing his name and he hangs up in the middle fo Sirius trying to tell him some story about a boat or llama or what the fuck ever. And then Sirius storms to their shared dormitory when they all got back, yelling at Remus for not answering his calls for the rest of the week, and then Remus screamed back that he didn’t want to keep him from his haram of girls. And Sirius snarled out that he didn’t kiss or even bloody flirt with any of them and that Remus needs to start trusting him or pull that stick out his ass. And Remus was just so taken aback he had no idea what to say, so he just shook his head, discarded words and pounced on him for them to snog instead— James and Peter rolling their eyes as they slowly exited the room.

And there entire relationship is a bit like that, firecrackers that simmer to something tender because their foundation has always been the purest, most important friendship and even though the sex is fucking miraculous and mind-blowing and maddeningly delicious, they’ll always be friends. 

So that’s why Remus gets so angry that Sirius is acting so blasé when Snape finds out about them and threatens to tell the whole school. “It’s not a big deal Moons, practically everyone who isn’t an idiot already knows.”

And Remus swears he saw red, felt his blood pressure pulse. “Well my parents don’t know, and I’d rather be the one to tell them instead of them hearing it from the gossip mill from one of the other students parents!”

And Sirius’s expression got very stoney right then, his shoulders drawn back and brows furrowed. “So what? You’re ashamed that you’re dating a bloke? Or a bloke who’s own parents didn’t want him?”

And Remus is so fucking gobsmacked, so disbelieving that this is still such a point of sensitivity for him. That he still isn’t quite comprehensive just how much and how thoroughly and how desperately Remus loves him, and all that comes out is “You’re a bloody pillock.” And Sirius doesn’t give him enough time to explain himself and before he knows it they’re on the train home and Sirius isn’t even talking to him and he’s home in Wales once more.

He tries messaging Sirius all summer long, tries explaining himself. He even tells his parents that he’s as gay as the day is long, and they were so supportive that it gave him hope. But then Remus goes to Lily’s house one night for a movie, and her phone pins with a snap notification from James, and she tells him to open it for her while she tries pulling out the biscuits from the oven, and Remus Sees a dorky looking James, a London night club’s logo on the bottom of the filter and it’s all innocent until he really looks and he sees Sirius— clear as day, and he’s kissing another bloke. A blonde, good looking bloke that Remus could never be and one that Sirius deserves. And he feels so empty, so exhausted, so tired of it all as he numbly hands it over to a anxious looking Lily.

And Remus decides right then that he and Sirius really need to end this. 

They need to cut all the strings of this ill-fated romance, because they’re both too volatile and too sporadic. They can’t risk their friendship over this. Remus can’t lose Sirius just because Remus never deserved him as a boyfriend.

So when they get back to classes for their sixth year, Remus pretends nothing had ever happened between them.

He acts cordial, and companionable and like the friend he was to Sirius before he let his bloody emotions get in the way. And Sirius is suspicious but cautious and sometimes he looks like he does when he wanted to kiss him, so Remus would have to race off and he’d stay out late as possible in the library so to get back to their room after they’ve all fallen asleep. And he’s thankful he does the one time he finds that Sirius had ended up falling asleep in Remus’s bed while waiting up for him.

On one of those nights out to the library he begins speaking with Ezra.

Ezra is a prefect also, and he’s a year above them in classes so he gladly helps Remus with the questions he has for the course work. He’s extremely handsome, and Remus doesn’t feel so guilty when he recognizes the fact. He’s got brown hair numerous shades darker from Remus’s tawny color, and he’s got very lovely green eyes and he smiles at Remus shyly. So it’s not a surprise when he kisses him softly for the first time in early October, and it’s nice. It’s not fire licking up his insides like Sirius’s kisses are, but it’s sweet. And he’s sweet. 

They go out on casual dates to the city on allotted weekends and they drink coco by the fire. He tells Remus about growing up right outside Edinburgh and Remus tells him about the sea glass his Mam taught him to find by the ocean, and his collection of shells and his favorite peer to watch the sunset and Ezra listens like he is so very interested. And They’re a quiet pair, even the first time he gives Remus a blow job behind the greenhouses. And it’s good, because it’s fucking sex of course its good. But he doesn’t know how to use his tongue like Sirius learned how, or how to squeeze just a bit too tightly around his shaft when he’s lapping the head. But it’s not Ezra’s fault. Sirius and Remus had plenty of practice, the one thing they did more than laugh or argue was fuck. And that’s because it was always fun, always good. They stumbled through it together and learned what they liked and what they didn’t and how amazing it felt whenever they were intwined like that— When Sirius was on top of him, underneath him, deep inside of him and all around him.

But that’s not a fair comparison. Sirius has always excelled in everything, has always been a supernova. And Remus needs to learn how to be his friend again, and stop remembering all those times between the sheets or hidden behind the greenhouses or sometimes even in closets between classes.

And they’re getting there. Sirius has stopped trying to wait up for him, and he laughs at his jokes easily again. He doesn’t touch Remus, not really, not ever. And he looks like a flicker has been blown out behind his disarmingly handsome face, but they’re getting closer.

And Ezra is great, Ezra is so amazing. He’s sweet and he texts Remus a good night and good morning message every day. He walks him to class and they kiss softly goodbye. He buys Remus cherry filled brownies even tho that’s possibly the one type of chocolate he doesn’t like. But he eats them anyways because he knows they’re expensive. And he steadfastly ignores the box of his favorite caramel ones that are left on his bed the morning after Ezra got them for him.

And when Ezra comes over their house for Christmas he’s perfect in front of his parents. He complements the dinner Lyall made and how lovely Hope’s necklace is. And he gets along seamlessly with Lily when they met up nearly every night to go out to the tree in the center of her hometown or ice skating or to take pictures by the lights.

But when he leaves, Remus just feels empty. He stays up all night thinking about it, about why he can’t love Ezra the way he loved— the way he’s always loved and continues to love Sirius. How he will forever love Sirius. And he ends up cursing Sirius’s name a thousand times over throughout  the span of one night.

And it’s back to the start of the story with Remus and Lily lounging in his living room and looking at the photo and Remus feels his eyes watering and Lily kissing his cheek while silently handing him his phone.

They exchange a smile.

And Remus decides he’ll talk to Ezra in person, explain how he’s a great guy and how lucky Remus was to be with him. But now— well now he needs to slide open his phone because he can hardly breathe anymore.

And when he hears Sirius’s familiar, golden baritone answering tentatively, “Hiya Moons.”

And Remus swallows down the emotion in his throat, and he just loves him so much.

“Can you drive up here? Preferably not with the bike.”

“James’s Dad left us his car.” Sirius retorts, and Remus can hear the smile in his voice. “But, are you sure?”

And Remus wants to scream it to the clouds and the ocean and the mountain tops that of course he is, that this— the emotions he has for Sirius, the way he loves him— is the one sure thing in his life.

“I love you Pads.”

A silence beats between them before he hears Sirius answer back, buoyant and vivid and so much him that it aches.

“I love you to Moony. I love you so much.”

[lasquadrasfuckhouse]

since i've been talking a lot about my hcs for la squadra's backgrounds i figured i would drop what i've thought of so far for risotto 👀

as a heads up there will be talk of ❗catholic trauma, familial death, and grief❗

prefacing this: so i saw an idea somewhere once that risotto and mariah are related b/c their stands both deal w/ magnetism and they both have white hair and then i made a mental exercise to play around with the idea of how that would actually Work but then the idea stuck lol

so they're half siblings and mariah is like, 5 or 6 years older? they have the same dad. he and mariah's mom separated on good terms and he eventually moved to sicily for work but went back n forth a lot to still be active in mariah's life

which is where he met risotto's mama. risotto was born and raised in siracusa but the family went to cairo a lot and likewise mariah and her mama would come visit too

so risotto's family life may have been unconventional (especially considering it was the 70s in a catholic country and his parents weren't married, nero is his mama's last name) but was very happy. he had good and loving parents, he and his sister loved each other a lot, their moms got along really well and mariah's mama was very nice to risotto too and vice versa, it was all pretty chill!!!!

maybe a few months (or a few years) later some wreckage washed ashore that could be identified as part of their vessel, but that's the most closure risotto had. he knows in his heart that they're dead because they were good parents, they would never have abandoned him and mariah. he doesn't blame the sea though and he's not afraid of it, it's just nature, and nature happens sometimes.

but when risotto was about 8 or 9, his parents were lost at sea. not sure if they were on a ferry and there was a freak storm and there were others that were lost too or they just liked to sail or what, but their boat pretty much vanished and they were never found.

so as presumably, probably, an orphan, he was taken in by his maternal grandparents in the sicilian countryside and lost contact with mariah and her mama. his grandparents had also taken in his older cousin prior to that too so it was the two of them being raised in the middle of bumfuck nowhere by their grandparents.

and their grandparents were, hm. Not Great. they were pretty hardcore catholics who ran a strict house, made ris and his cousin go to church whether they liked it or not, tried to instill them both with Catholic Guilt™️, were very conservative, kinda broadly fucked up and controlling etc. it was just, not an emotionally healthy environment.

risotto's mama probably moved away for a reason 😬 they were definitely aghast that their daughter had a child out of wedlock and it wouldn't surprise me if they had this notion of having to '''save''' risotto from '''sin'''. which probably made him feel like something was wrong with him, which he thankfully knew wasn't true because his early childhood was happy and healthy enough to give him that perspective, but it hurt nonetheless.

he and his cousin were each other's confidants and partners in crime, they loved each other so damn much and were always looking out for each other. often it was big cousin looking out for baby ris cause he was like ~5 years older but risotto wanted to be there for him too.

they got up to a lot of trouble as kids in small towns in the middle of nowhere do and it was stupid as hell but fun and freeing. authoritarian houses make good sneaks and good liars and the two of them definitely lived up to that. risotto also couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and love when he did what he pleased and tried his best to live freely because he felt like it brought him closer to his parents in spirit.

as soon as big cousin graduated the two of them hit the road and moved to palermo, against their grandparents' wishes. they shared a shitty cheap apartment that felt like a damn mansion to them cause they could do whatever they wanted and just live their lives.

they lived there for about a year before risotto's cousin was killed and he felt like the fucking world crumbled from beneath him. he viewed it very differently from his parents' deaths: one was nature, one was some asshole who couldn't be considerate to the people around him and now risotto's best friend is dead.

so he was back with his grandparents but without his cousin and he was pretty fucking miserable, but he refused to just be sad for himself, he was sad for his cousin first and foremost and couldn't stop thinking about him. and he was angry. big cousin had his whole life ahead of him that was cut short, he was a whole person with dreams who loved and was loved, and this guy only gets four years in prison and then could just go back to his life like nothing had happened when his cousin wasn't alive anymore? no. it wasn't right. risotto refused to let that go unresolved.

and that thought is what kept him going but he still ran away a lot, didn't bother with school unless he thought it could help him, etc. he became sort of numb to his grandparents and the irony of plotting revenge in his head while he was made to sit in church wasn't lost on him.

he probably dropped out and left his grandparents' place by the time he was 17 and he hasn't spoken with them since, went back to palermo, and went from there with his plotting. that's how he got involved with passione.

he got vengeance for his cousin at 18, and it was at least something, but yeah, he realized it would never be enough and the pain stayed. not that he regretted it in the slightest tho, he can still sleep a little easier and feels like he can do.... something aside from just being consumed by it.

but then he was indebted to passione for their help with getting risotto to the guy, risotto took it in stride cause again, he didn't regret it, and the rest is history.

not to say he's necessarily happy or satisfied being in passione tho, but he accepts it and works with it. he doesn't really think about what he'd like to do cause this is what he just.... does.

he tries to visit his cousin's grave in palermo every year for his birthday (and maybe throws some flowers into the ocean for his parents too, they left from the opposite coast but he figures the water will carry his intentions where they need to go). he would be perfectly happy to never see or hear from his grandparents again. once as an adult (and with gang connections) he realized he could try to track down his sister again, but decided against it. not only because he's not sure if she would accept him for who he became (he can't stand the thought of her rejecting or being afraid of him), but if he put her in harm's way, he would never forgive himself.

he doesn't know mariah is also a stand user, nor her involvement with dio or who the fuck dio even is or basically the whole mess of stardust crusaders. but she IS alive, she got very injured but is alive. maybe once giorno becomes boss, gets in touch w/ his joestar family and the speedwagon foundation etc all the little strings start coming together and risotto and mariah can find each other again. and she very much does love her big baby brother and wouldn't even dream of rejecting him. so they can be brother and sister again and it's really lovely and healing :')

[unforth]

So keeping in mind that I’ve literally already written a 40k Destiel fic inspired by Selena Gomez’s “Back to You,” today it came up on my play list and I started to think about ficcing it again, but this time Wangxian. It’s just such a ficcable song, I can’t even.

Like, a modern AU (set in the US) where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were once dating, and Wei Wuxian started making friends with “the wrong sorts,” and so Lan Qiren forced Lan Wangji to dump him. They part ways for a few years.

Lan Wangji never really recovers, and he perfunctorily dates the people his uncle sets him up with, and his life kinda stalls...not that there’s anything wrong with it, just...it’s always the same, the same places, the same people, the same work, the same wake up time, the same daily routine, the same bedtime. Sometimes he’s not sure which he misses more - Wei Wuxian, or the disruption to his life that Wei Wuxian represents. He almost wishes that Wei Wuxian has gone as “bad” as Lan Qiren was so, so sure he would, because then it would be proof - that stepping outside the box is not the way to a good life, that Lan Wangji made the right choices even if he’s not happy with them, that kind of thing.

Wei Wuxian also never really recovers, but instead of letting it get him down, he’s even more determined to prove that he’s so much more than what snobs like Lan Qiren thought of him - and so are the friends he made, who are of course Wen Qing and Wen Ning. They also have really had a tough time, with a lot of people assuming the worst about them because of their family connections. The three make a pact together - to succeed, no matter what it takes, and to help each other whenever one of them starts to struggle. And it works. Though they’re a little behind their peers - they all go to college, and they all finish their degrees, they all get advanced ones. Wen Qing becomes a doctor. Wei Wuxian becomes an engineer. Wen Ning becomes a vet. They get respectable jobs, if poorly paid because that’s the economy in 2020s USA, and they’re slowly building lives for themselves. No one from the circles his adopted family move in will associate with him anyway - he got kicked out for some of his youthful shenanigans, and though he’s in touch with his siblings, his “parents” won’t acknowledge him - but he doesn’t care. He knows he’s succeeding, no matter what they say about him.

(read more)

Though Lan Wangji never stops thinking about Wei Wuxian, he refuses to Google him or look him up. Fantasize about him? Yes. Wish his current SO was them? Yes. Occasionally scroll through Jiang Yanli’s friends list just to make sure Wei Wuxian is still there? Yes. But he doesn’t look him up, doesn’t friend him, doesn’t outreach. Why should he? Some regrets are normal, but he’s over it - he’s definitely over it.

Not that Wei Wuxian expected him to. Lan Wangji broke his heart, and it hurt - oh, it hurt so much, but Wei Wuxian is definitely over him. Who needs that asshole anyway? Wei Wuxian knows his worth, and he doesn’t need the affection of someone who cast him aside at the say so of his uncle. If he occasionally comes moaning Lan Wangji’s name...that’s a perfectly normal thing to do as regards someone Wei Wuxian hasn’t dated in a decade, right? Lan Wangji was, and presumably still is, hot as fuck, and Wei Wuxian has a healthy labido

Which is to say, neither of them is over it at all.

Still, their mutual pining might have never come to a head if not for Lan Wangji’s best friend - Jin Zixuan - getting engaged to Wei Wuxian’s sister Jiang Yanli.

And then, suddenly, after so many years, they’re in frequent contact again - helping with planning the wedding - and, well...

For Wei Wuxian, it’s infuriating. There’s Lan Wangji, still quiet, still distant, and sometimes when Wei Wuxian glances his way, he can swear that he caught Lan Wangji looking at him with resentment and regret, which - that’s some fucking bullshit right there, cause it’s not Wei Wuxian who ditched Lan Wangji, not Wei Wuxian who caved to family pressure. That’s all Lan Wangji - what’s Lan Wangji got to resent?

For Lan Wangji, it’s awful. Wei Wuxian is at least 8 times more gorgeous than Lan Wangji remembers him being, tall and lithe, his hair long, his affect casual. Despite the same air of nonchalance he always projected, though, now he’s like that but ALSO educated, successful, and self-made. Every bad thing Lan Qiren said would come to pass for Wei Wuxian is now proven a lie, and Lan Wangji feels wretched about it. Even worse, Wei Wuxian is clearly single - and “ready to mingle,” as Lan Wangji believes the phrase goes. Literally anyone who breaths, of any gender, is apparently fair game, and Wei Wuxian flirts constantly, especially with members of Lan Wangji’s friends circle. Mo Xuanyu? The poor guy never knew what hit him. Lan Jingyi? Is like eight years to young for Wei Wuxian, but that doesn’t stop him. Ouyang Zizhen? Lan Wangji is pretty sure Wei Wuxian doesn’t even know Zizhen’s name - or his age - but again, when did any reasonable objection ever stop Wei Wuxian? Luo Qingyang? She’s a lesbian for fucks sake, but she apparently doesn’t mind, and even flirts back, and Wei Wuxian is incorrigible.

Maybe Lan Qiren was right after all.

Wei Wuxian is determined to flaunt what Lan Wangji missed out on, loudly and publicly. Mo Xuanyu does make for a fun fling, and Lan Jingyi is a good kisser but they never get farther than that. Ouyang Zizhen is definitely too young - and he’s straight - but he laughs along when Wei Wuxian is outrageous, and they understand each other. And Luo Qingyang...Wei Wuxian suspects she knows exactly what the score is, and is maybe even helping him.

Helping him make Lan Wangji miserable, that is.

Wei Wuxian is definitely not looking to accomplish anything else.

Unless he can secure a Plus One to the wedding, ideally one who can join the wedding party and stand beside Wei Wuxian when he and Jiang Cheng give Jiang Yanli away.

Cause, oh, the look on Lan Wangji’s face, if he’s forced to spend the entire wedding facing Wei Wuxian and his date? Priceless, definitely.

Lan Wangji is determined to give Wei Wuxian the space to do...whatever it is Wei Wuxian is doing. Wei Wuxian always was a whirlwind, and Lan Wangji has never wanted to control him, never known how to keep up. Still, it galls to see Wei Wuxian flirting, and it hurts to see Wei Wuxian act indifferently towards him, and it aches to remember that, had things been different, Lan Wangji could have been on the receiving end of all those lovely, carefree smiles.

Rather than deal with the difficulty he has breathing whenever he’s in the same room as Wei Wuxian is in the room, Lan Wangji throws himself into the logistic planning of the final weeks leading up to the wedding. He coordinates vendors. He soothes ruffled feathers. He makes sure the caterers know literally everyone’s dietary preferences and restrictions. He works, and he works, and he works, and he tries to do nothing but work, but sometimes...

...Wen Qing will wander by, take over his spreadsheet, and tell him to go socialize...

...or Wen Ning will intercept the decoration Lan Wangji was moving, lift it surprisingly effortlessly, and tell Lan Wangji to join the main gathering...

...or Luo Qingyang will come and lecture him about how hiding is dumb and maybe he’d actually meet someone new if he tried.

As if Lan Wangji will get to meet someone new.

As if Lan Qiren will let Lan Wangji be with them, even if Lan Wangji did.

They’re trying to help, but he can’t figure out why. Wen Qing and Wen Ning especially are barely even his friends - but they’re closer to Wei Wuxian than anyone else in the world...Lan Wangji can’t fathom what they’re up to. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think they were trying to get him back together with Wei Wuxian? Which makes him think they don’t know Wei Wuxian half as well as they think they do, cause there’s no way that Wei Wuxian wants that - no way that Wei Wuxian wants him. Lan Wangji had his chance. He gets that.

(But, oh, it’d be nice to believe, even for a minute, even for a single dinner party, that maybe that would be something Wei Wuxian would want.)

But that’s impossible.

So Wei Wuxian flirts shamelessly.

And Lan Wangji hides behind duty and a stoic facade.

And the day of the wedding approaches - they get through the rehearsal dinner, the bachelor and bachelorette parties, the hangovers the next morning, all of it...and then it’s time.

Lan Wangji knows he should be watching Jin Zixuan, dressed in full Chinese traditional garb for an utterly Western style wedding, but instead he can’t keep his eyes off the opposite wedding party. Luo Qingyang is maid of honor, in a chongseom that makes no sense as either traditional Chinese or modern Western - and Jiang Yanli insisted on her brothers standing at her side, and so Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are both there.

In tuxedos.

A sharp contrast to the robes in muted colors that Jin Zixuan picked out for his wedding party.

And Jiang Cheng still has a look on his face like he stepped in something gross and is too dignified to wipe it off on the carpeting, but Wei Wuxian...oh, Wei Wuxian is so perfect, absolutely flawless, and his pleasure is so obviious and uninhibited. From the moment the tent flaps open and Jiang Fengmian walks his daughter, in full Phoenix robes and an elaborate golden head dress (a family heirloom, no less), Wei Wuxian only has eyes for his sister, and his joy for her is spectacular and makes Lan Wangji’s chest ache.

As the ceremony commences - Western secular, seriously, what, not that it’s a surprise, Lan Wangji helped plan it, but it’s still weird - Lan Wangji looses himself in the rhythm of non-religious liturgy and imagining that, had his life gone differently, how Wei Wuxian looks now might have been how he’d have looked on their wedding day.

He wants that so badly.

He so, so desperately wishes that could have been.

For once, Lan Wangji isn’t wrong about Wei Wuxian’s train of thought. He’s got eyes for no one but Jiang Yanli - well, and a small aside of imagining all the ways he’ll make Jin Zixuan regret ever being born, should he ever hurt her. The ceremony passes so quickly he’s amazed - usually he’s super impatient and antsy during events like this - but no, he’s fine, he’s fine, he’s fine, he’s...and then it’s over, and he glances to the groom’s party, and he realizes...Lan Wangji is staring at him.

Reflecting back over the ceremony...Lan Wangji has been staring at him the whole time?

And seriously - what the fuck is up with that? What had Wei Wuxian done wrong this time? Was it the tux? Lan Wangji coordinated the rental, if he’d objected to the Western attire, he had plenty of time to say something. Was it the way Wei Wuxian was rocking back on his heels? As if Jiang Yanli didn’t know Wei Wuxian couldn’t stand still - as if she’d ever hold that against him! His mind scrambles through explanations, each more ridiculous and rude than the last...no matter what the reason is, he’s sure that his existence offends Lan Wangji, as it also offended Lan Qiren. If it didn’t, why would Lan Wangji have treated him so indifferently since they re-met?

(It definitely isn’t because Wei Wuxian has intentionally kept him at arms length, oh no, this - whatever this is - is absolutely entirely Lan Wangji’s fault.)

Still, now that he’s aware of Lan Wangji’s condemnation, Wei Wuxian can’t stop thinking about it. It preoccupies him all through agonizingly dull hour of taking group photographs in various places in the picturesque garden, and all through the brief period he actually gets to spend during the passed platter part of the reception - hors d’ouevres to tide the guests over while the family and wedding parties do the pictures - and all through the achingly dull meal. The food is good, Wei Wuxian supposes. The wedding has been nice, Wei Wuxian supposes. Jiang Yanli is elated, Wei Wuxian knows, and he’s delighted for her, but...somehow, the joy has drained out of the evening.

Fucking Lan Wangji - can’t behave himself for one fucking evening, he’s even going to ruin this for Wei Wuxian.

Fuck it - as soon as the meal is over, and the first dances done, and the reception switches from staid social affair to open bar dance party, Wei Wuxian resolves to get sloshed as fast as humanly possible. Anything to stop him from thinking so damn much.

Lan Wangji is one of a handful of designated drivers amongst the people in his generation - he’s expecting to do at least three runs back to the hotel, starting with the bride and groom, then all the Jin half-siblings, then probably the Jiangs, judging by how they’re behaving so far, and then...he doesn’t know, but he suspects there’ll be others. Looking around as the evening grows later, the music louder, and the dancing more raucous, he tries to do a mental tally, and realizes...something is wrong.

No, nothing is wrong...someone is missing.

Where’s Wei Wuxian?

Confused, Lan Wangji looks around again. Wei Wuxian had been dancing - with his sister, with his brother in law, with Luo Qingyang, with Mo Xuanyu, with the folks a half-generation younger like Lan Jingyi, with anyone or anyone, by himself...but no...Luo Qingyang is dancing with Wen Qing, if “intense dance floor frottage” can be considered dancing...and Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli are dancing together, and Mo Xuanyu is flirting with some guy Lan Wangji doesn’t recognize, and the half-generation younger folks are teasing some poor Jiang junior, and Wei Wuxian has been exuberantly present for much of the evening, and now he’s just...gone.

As drunk as Wei Wuxian appeared to be, that can’t be good.

So, concerned - just that Wei Wuxian is drunk and might have tried something dumb, like driving home himself, or gotten lost on the way to the bathroom, or needed to throw up, not about anything else, Lan Wangji is definitely not concerned about Wei Wuxian in any other respect - Lan Wangji goes in search of Wei Wuxian.

He checks around the outside of the tent - nothing.

He checks inside the venue’s main building - nothing.

He checks the bathrooms - nothing.

He checks the parking lots - nothing, and of course Wei Wuxian didn’t take a vehicle, he didn’t drive himself.

He checks everywhere he can think, as the night grows later and darker and the party proceeds and the oldest, most staid guests start to say their goodbyes.

Finally, tired, out of ideas, and disinterested in returning to the loud bright heat of the tent, Lan Wangji goes for a walk through the manicured grounds. Even in the dark of night, the place the Jin-Jiang’s chose is lovely. Scattered decorative lights cast barely enough light to navigate the lanes and paths, aided by a full moon and the occasional flicker of a firefly. There’s a koi pond in the center - they took a lot of pictures there - and a few stone benches around it, so Lan Wangji meanders in that direction. He can still hear the party. He’ll know when they need him. He really needs some time to himself - it’s all been too much.

He tries not to think too hard about what “it” actually refers to in that thought.

Nothing Wei Wuxian does diffuses the empty feeling in his chest; every drink, he feels worse. Every dance, he feels more like he’s putting on an act. His friends were starting to notice - Luo Qingyang and Wen Qing had exchanged a look and then rounded on him like they were going to pin him down and force him to...or try to force him to...talk about his ~feelings~, and so Wei Wuxian fled into the gardens, found a bench where he could listen to the soft sussuration of flowing water somehow audible over the thump of the bass, and breathe.

It’s been a long time since Wei Wuxian felt like he could breathe.

He still doesn’t feel like he can breathe.

Which is ridiculous, he knows, and he’s in the process of going into extensive internal detail of why it’s ridiculous when a damn ghost steps into the clearing around the koi pond...

...no, not a ghost...it’s Lan Wangji, cheeks pale from how much time he spends in doors, robes nearly white when their pale blue is washed out by the moonlight, hair raven falling about his shoulders. His headband frames his noble brow, and his corsage rains a trail of vining flowers over one shoulder like some strange epaulette, and oh, he’s gorgeous, and Wei Wuxian recognizes, to his horror, in that instant...

...he’s never, ever, ever been over Lan Wangji, and he never will be...

...and he’ll never, ever, ever get to be with Lan Wangji. Like, ever.

Lan Wangji is staring at him.

Fuck Wei Wuxian’s life.

“I’ll just...go...” Wei Wuxian mumbles.

The statement hangs heavy in the night air as Wei Wuxian rises, straightens his tux, heads toward the pathway that Lan Wangji just entered from...and then stops.

Because Lan Wangji has grabbed his forearm.

“Oh come on, man - what the fuck?” Wei Wuxian demands, yanking his arm away. “Look, I get it, I’m your least favorite person - well, the wedding’s done, you’ll never have to see me again if you don’t want. Is that what you want? Would that finally make you happy?”

He’s breathing hard by the time he stops talking, and Lan Wangji is still staring at him, and Wei Wuxian wants to flee - not to the tent, but to...literally anywhere...anywhere that Lan Wangji isn’t...except he can’t make his legs work, and he can’t seem to move, and Lan Wangji won’t. stop. staring. and then Lan Wangji opens his mouth, and it seems to be in slow motion, and is he actually going to speak, holy shit, Lan Wangji hasn’t said a word to Wei Wuxian since he said, “good bye” ten years ago, and then of all the fucking things to come out of Lan Wangji’s mouth, all he says is,

“No.”

“Wha...why...ho...WHAT?”

“You asked, ‘is that what I want? Would that make me happy?’ The answer is no, Wei Ying. That is not what I want. That would not make me happy.”

“Oh. Well. Fucking good for you.” Wei Wuxian doesn’t even know what the fuck he’s saying. He doesn’t know what the fuck Lan Wangji is saying. All he knows is that being there hurts, and he’s so damn tired of hurting, and Lan Wangji already destroyed him once...

...and I’d give anything for five minutes with him, even if I know he’ll likely destroy me again...

“What do you want?” asks Lan Wangji, like he actually cares about the answer, and Wei Wuxian can only goggle at him, because he was so so incredibly clear about what he wanted ten years ago - he even fucking asked Lan Wangji to marry him, said, “I’ll do anything, conquer any challenge - we can make this life together, Lan Zhan,” and Lan Wangji had just said, “Good bye,” and now, now, Lan Wangji wants to know what Wei Wuxian wants? What gives him the right? What gives him the entitlement? What gives him the audacity?

What makes him think anything Wei Wuxian wants has changed?

But Wei Wuxian can’t say that, can he...?

The silence stretches out between them.

Neither moves.

Neither speaks.

Fireflies flit around them.

Lan Wangji dreads Wei Wuxian answering, dreads him walking away, dreads losing this last precious moment they share, even though the tension of this moment is so awful that Lan Wangji fears it will break him.

“What would you say if...if I said that all I want...is all I’ve ever wanted?” whispers Wei Wuxian, like he’s terrified.

Lan Wangji has no idea why he’s terrified.

Lan Wangji has no idea what he means.

He asks with a raised brow, and Wei Wuxian laughs awkwardly. “Naw, I can’t do the ‘silent Lan act’ right now. Use your words, I’m fucking right out of here, okay?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try.” It’s ludicrously hard, but...for Wei Wuxain, Lan Wangji will always try, always regret that he didn’t try harder when he should have. “I...don’t understand. You say...what you always wanted. A degree. A found family. Your siblings at your side. A pet rabbit. An apartment with a bidet. A signed copy of ‘The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.’ There were many things you said you wanted. I’m afraid I’m unclear which you mean.”

“You...you remember all that dumb shit I said back then?” Wei Wuxian sounds astonished. How can Wei Wuxian sound astonished? How can Wei Wuxian believe Lan Wangji would have forgotten a minute of those wonderful days - the best of his life?

“Mn.”

“Well, none of that shit’s what I mean. Got most of it anyway. Bidets are awesome. But Lan Wangj...Lan Zhan...”

His name, said in that sweet voice, causes a tingle to go down Lan Wangji’s spine.

“...all I’ve ever wanted was you.”

Lan Wangji’s jaw drops.

“And you told me to fuck right out of your life when I asked for that, so...fuck, what am I even still doing here?”

“Kissing me.”

“Wha--”

Lan Wangji interrupts Wei Wuxian’s confused exclamation with action - grapping Wei Wuxian’s shoulders and pulling him into a kiss. It’s rude, and inappropriate, and consent - what consent? - and Wei Wuxian doesn’t reciprocate but...oh well. Lan Wangji has already ruined his love life. At least he can have one kiss to remember fondly, to cherish, to--

--and then Wei Wuxian has an arm around Lan Wangji’s shoulder, their bodies pressed together, their lips moving as one, and oh, it’s good - glorious - Lan Wangji could weep he’s so happy. They kiss, and kiss, and kiss, shifting in the moonlight, lost in their embrace. Lan Wangji is breathless and growing dizzy, but he’s terrified to put space between them - what if this is goodbye? What if it’s just Wei Wuxian flirting, like he flirts with everyone? What if...what if...what if...

But finally, they do part, and scantly, bodies still close, embrace still maintained, faces inches apart.

“What’s going on, Lan Zhan?” asks Wei Wuxian weakly.

“I kissed you.”

“Yeah...got that part...but why...?”

“I know I’ve no right to ask this...but would you try again? With me? With us? Would you--?”

Wei Wuxian is kissing him again before Lan Wangji can finish the question.

Wei Wuxian can’t believe that’s a real question Lan Wangji has to ask - as if Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have taken Lan Wangji back anytime, at the drop of a hat, over the past decade.

(Okay, that’s unfair...Wei Wuxian’s actually been a huge dick about it...he knows Lan Wangji had no independent living, and relied on his family, and Wei Wuxian was just some aimless jackass, and, and, and...but it still stung that Lan Wangji wouldn’t throw all cares to the wind to be with Wei Wuxian, as Wei Wuxian would have done - had done - to be with Lan Wangji.)

But it feels dumb to dwell on that when Lan Wangji is in his arms, kissing him so eagerly, asking if he’ll try again.

Because of fucking course Wei Wuxian will try again.

“I don’t know what that means, Wei Ying,” says Lan Wangji with obvious frustration.

Kiss.

“It means yes,” Wei Wuxian replies.

Kiss.

“Yes?”

Kiss.

“Yes.”

Kiss.

“Always?”

Kiss.

“If you’ll have me back...”

Kiss.

“As if I’d ever turn you down!”

Kiss.

“Already did once...”

Kiss.

“And regretted it endlessly.”

Kiss.

“Good. You deserved at least that much suffering.”

Kiss.

“Deserved it, and more.”

Kiss.

“I suppose I’ll forgive you, if...”

Kiss.

“Anything. Just tell me.”

Kiss.

Oh, Wei Wuxian has so many ideas, and he delights in teasing Lan Wangji with each and every one, whispered between husky breaths in to the cooling air, interrupting himself constantly to kiss, and kiss, and kiss.

They’re still making out by the koi pond when Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang come looking for the promised designated driver.

They don’t even consult - or consider interrupting - when they do find the two idiots locked in an embrace. As one, the ladies turn, exchange a silent, smug high-five, and pull out their phones to order Ubers.

They can pay for rides for the Bride and Groom and family members and other drunken party goers.

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have a lot of catching up to do.

(and done)

(oops, this got long)

(and yes, this is absolutely a mash up of a modern AU with the lyrics to “Go Back to You” with a healthy dose of the plot of Jane Austen’s “Persuasion.”)

[pineapple-lover-boy]

As I have decided my last post was way to fun too write I’ve decided to write another head canon/fanfic type of whatever.

This one concerns Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley.

Definitely has a big wedding like a year after they both graduate (and I don’t mean by just family)

They were the first in the family to get married after like a decade so Fleur, Molly, and (surprisingly) Hermione all get together to make it amazing

Fleur handles design choices (while consulting her daughter and future son in law of course)

Molly handles the more technical stuff like who gets invited, what types of food to they get/make, and seating charts

Hermione? She’s their human version of self control

She helps Fleur with not going too all out and makes sure Molly doesn’t put the wrong people together

She’s a huge help, really

Anyways, the wedding goes off without a hitch

(Bill was compelled to object because damnit it’s his little girl but the look on Fleur’s face tells him he might as well leave home and never come back if he does)

Now onto home life

Victoire is like her mother: blunt, a bit arrogant, but caring to a fault and very loyal

Teddy, although being described as a very nice young man by many, was: a troublemaker at heart, rowdy, clumsy just like his mother, but also very respectful and holds genuine concern for others

An interesting pair, really

Because of his clumsy ness, Victoire often had to attend to his injuries and clean up his messes

It was worth it though as he always managed to get her something that worked perfectly with her Veela features

It wasn’t all household woman that cleans after her husband though

When Victoire’s temper flared about some idiot making comments about her or people underestimating her Teddy was always there to calm her down and hold her tight

And Victoire was there every time he looked at the picture of his parents on the mantle piece

They are still the same teenagers they where at school (seriously, they’re barely even 20) so make out sessions are a must

Which now the children come along because they have their own house and are again, horny teenagers except they’re allowed to do this now

First off, I head canon Metamorphmagus genes come from muggleborns squib ancestors and once they awaken in a wizard they automatically become a dominant gene (child is more likely to have it than to not)

I hc their first child to be Remi Harry Lupin

Light brown hair just like his fathers original hair color, his grandfather, and his mother’s original hair color but with dark blue eyes like his other grandmother

It’s clear as he grows up that he inherits Veela traits even though it was thought to be impossible to, just like his uncle

He is a calm child, very smart too

As he is the first baby in years he is thoroughly doted on but he is always taught to never let it go to his head

Loves hearing stories of all his grandparents and his adoptive grandfather

Doesn’t change his appearance all that much but does so when playing with his father or putting on shows for the family

He prefers to keep his hair a soft green

Not too bright and nice for the eyes

He absolutely loves his little sister, Brielle Nymphadora Lupin

Tonks is fuming up in heaven while both Remus and Harry are secretly laughing

Brielle is much like the ones who came before her

She also inherited Veela and Metamorphmagus traits

Whenever she gets annoyed with people looking at her, even as a baby, she’ll make herself look positively ugly

She has her grandmothers silvery hair with the Weasley freckles and chocolate brown eyes

Once she weaned off of milk, to everyone’s surprise, she always had a hankering her raw meat

After all when one grandfather was full wolf and the other only about half wolf you kind of develop your own traits

She loves scaring the living daylights out of her mother but turning her face into random things

She once tried to do something so scary that she vowed never to do something like that ever again after seeing her mother’s reaction

Contrary to popular belief, this couple only had these two children

They knew their sanity was at risk if they had another; even with a well mannered child like Remi it was just too much

Remi was sorted into Hufflepuff like his father as his values were placed with loyalty more than intelligence

Brielle had another surprise in store for the family: she was sorted into Ravenclaw!

To have a brother like Remi she always admired his ability to teach her even when the entire house was shaking with the large family (this family is so big yet so close that generations down there will be like over 100 members and it’ll still be tight knit)

Brielle also strives to be smarter herself

A lot of the time she was treated as if she was an idiot just because she liked having fun more than reading

She, of course, proved them wrong when she had a successful pranking career at Hogwarts while also being a prefect and a head girl

Remi only ever became a prefect

He lamented to Headmaster McGonagall on how he would much rather focus on his studies and his friends than parading around Hogwarts trying to find troublemakers and she, with an amused smile on her face, crossed off Remi’s name for head boy the next year

Teddy and Victoire absolutely adored their children in every way

Often times Teddy would find himself confronting other who looked at the both of them

If that didn’t work then Victoire would come along and sock em on the nose

Even though their family wasn’t as big as others expected, they were a very chaotically happy family

And they wouldn’t have it any other way :)

[vidavalor]

Can we talk about how Sam is as useless at this as Bucky is, really, and it’s massively sweet?

Yeah, I’m writing about Sam because we all love us some brainwashed, century-old assassin endless array of hurt/comfort here but this idea that Sam, because he’s a therapist and not always a crying, nightmare-sweat-drenched mess, is Captain Got It All Together is not truth... because this poor broken-hearted kitten absolutely does not and it makes him so much more of a better-realized, fuller character... 

I’m not trying to wade any ship wars here or any fandom strife over the Bucky slant to fic/sometimes erasure of Sam here... I love both of these characters equally and ship them but my point here is that I think that because Bucky’s trauma is more well-documented and, for lack of a better word, “flashier”, that some people might think Sam looks perfectly well-adjusted. By comparison, he probably is but this other, quieter story happening with Sam is necessary reading here if you’ve been sleeping on the complexities of one Sam Wilson that aren’t the ones the show is focusing on more explicitly relating to his lived experience as a Black man in America. (They’re not completely separate either but not only this part of his life.) What do I mean, exactly? 

Been wondering how these two are falling in love but can mainly just get it from Bucky’s POV because Sam is awesome and Bucky is sad and need love? Not sure what Sam is getting out of his relationship with Bucky? Not totally sure you ship it but leaning that way? Yeah, pull up a seat because this thing I wrote after Ep 5 here (so spoilers through that) is basically an old-school ship manifesto at this point but comes at SamBucky/WinterFalcon from Sam’s side, rather than Bucky’s. (I have nothing *against* Bucky. I just think you’re missing half the goodness of this show and half the surprisingly tender romance of all of this if you are not focusing on Sam as much as Bucky.) If this interests you, then read on, being forewarned that it’s a little long...

So... Sam Wilson is a sweet, kind, warm-hearted, empathetic, drop-dead gorgeous superhero soldier flying military veteran therapist... whom the canon suggests is Bucky Barnes-level obsessed with his dead former partner (in some sense of the word), Riley. You thought it was just Bucky with the angsty past love? Oh no... oh, no no no....

Consider that Sam’s been back in Delacroix twice now in TFATWS and not once has his sister-- who adores him and who knows everyone in town-- suggested that she call up any one of the at least ten decent single people she has to know who live in the area to take her f*cking *dreamboat* of a brother out. Forget the show putting Sam in like twelve pieces of canon and not throwing a single human (not named Bucky) at him and what that implies-- we all know that Sarah wouldn’t care what kind of human her brother was attracted to and yet she and the entire community of Delacroix can’t seem to find this guy a date. He’s sweet and hot and an Avenger but our Sam’s a monk, you guys... More to the point... they don’t even try. They know better than to try anymore... which says a lot.

Going back awhile now, when Sam met Steve, he was still this equally dreamy and he didn’t even have any Avengers-related problems getting in the way of his potential dating life. He had a normal job working for the VA in DC. Yet, he clearly was seeing exactly no one and while I am willing to admit that pretty much any human would drop everything and follow Steve Rogers around the world, it’s clear that Sam wasn’t seeing anyone at the time because his life was able to be dropped in a second and he also had that file with Riley’s photo at the ready, man. At. the. ready... 

He responded to the opportunity to follow Steve with no less need when it came to his own post-trauma-of-war identity as Bucky does. This isn’t to say that Sam is *as* lost as Bucky because it would be hard to out-do the once-brainwashed assassin who has been alive for a hundred years but Sam saw all sorts of hell. He’s a therapist for veterans because he’s had to get beyond *his own* PTSD and he’s really aware of how that is a journey that doesn’t exactly ever end. It gets significantly better and he knows how well it can-- that’s why he can tell Bucky that there is hope of that-- but it is very clear that Sam Wilson is still suffering his own kind of PTSD and his own grief for the death of a guy who likely couldn’t love him the way he needed him to. 

I know we don’t know a ton about exactly what Sam and Riley were but I think there is enough to infer that they probably actually weren’t a couple. For one thing, Sarah never mentions him and even if the show wanted to be vague about things, they could phrase it like “it’s been forever since you brought back someone to the house, haven’t met any of them since Riley” or something. There are ways to infer that they were a thing and the nature of it, if the show wanted to do that but all they have suggested so far is that Sam was in love with Riley. We know he and Riley were friends and worked on the Falcon suit project together but what we are getting out of what they are giving to us is that Sam loved him but it’s not clear that they were even a couple. I’d even say the picture of them that he shows Steve and Natasha is supposed to evoke that they weren’t a couple-- it’s of Sam looking at Riley, smiling like he’s the moon and the stars, while Riley is smiling but just a bit and he’s looking at the camera, not at Sam. 

In other words, remember Miller’s analogies from school? Sam is to Riley as Bucky is to Steve. I just offended every person reading this who thinks that Steve and Bucky weren’t an unrequited thing *ducks* but I feel like we’re supposed to take from what they give us that Sam knows a little something about being mad for a guy who thinks you are his best buddy but doesn’t look at you in a romantic or sexual way and you feel like you’re dying over it. Sam gets Bucky because Sam *is* Bucky when it comes to this. 

If Sam and Riley were just the best of friends, Sam still would have mourned him greatly but it would not necessarily have impacted his love life the way it seems like it might have. I’m not necessarily saying there was no one but this is a man who even when it felt like Steve Rogers-- whom Sam obviously found attractive-- seemed like he was making Sam question whether or not he was coming onto him or just super-nice and making a new fellow veteran friend... even when that was happening, Sam’s response was that he didn’t hate it or anything and he was willing to help Steve with what he needed in this friendly, advice-giving sort of way and maybe they had a thing, who knows, but it was clear that Sam-- a guy who has to be hit on *all the time*-- wasn’t really used to the idea of there being someone in his life. So, he wasn’t letting anyone into his life. He would have had the chance, no doubt. He was choosing not to. Why would you choose not to? If you were grieving the loss of a man you couldn’t get over and you thought that you weren’t ever going to love anyone like that and maybe having someone wasn’t going to happen for you.

Like, imagine Sam’s surprise when The Winter Soldier turns up, nearly kills them all, disappears and they go on the run and he starts hearing Steve’s confessional stories about the guy who was his best friend and in love with him and Steve has literally never said those words aloud because they’re from the *1940s* and he’s felt guilty all this time for hurting him. Steve’s the kind of guy who would feel guilty for not being in love with someone who was in love with him. That’s when Sam, who thought he had more in common with Steve, realizes he’s actually *Bucky Barnes* in this story. He’s the damn Winter Soldier in the Steve-and-Bucky version of him and Riley. 

That is how Bucky evolves from “the kind of guy you have to stop” in Sam’s mind to the guy he’s hanging out with in every fight and snarking over the car seats with. He’s like yeesh, I thought I had a few years of this ungodly pain and that was bad... this poor bastard’s been in love with a Riley who could and probably will live until he’s a hundred and thirty. Sam starts getting into this whole antagonist origin story of The Winter Soldier here because he realizes that one wrong move-- one case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time-- and he could have been captured during the war he was in. He could have been tortured like that, so easily, and he knows what it’s like to be tortured by love in that way. 

Bucky, for his part, when he begins to get his mind back and more fully remember Steve and his past, takes one look at Sam and is thinking like... that poor SOB... oh, look, it’s 21st Century Me. So, you fell for Steve Rogers, huh? Welcome to the club. We meet every Tuesday at two to discuss being the pining best friend in love with a guy who, in all likelihood, is attracted to both of us but unless Tony Stark can shake loose a bit of the freak in The Star-Spangled Man With a Plan, we’re not getting anything but a most earnest and sincere friendship out of this (and if Stark can’t, no one can....)

Like, Bucky’s Steve love is pretty pure. He wants him to be happy. He’s hurt that Steve doesn’t love him the way he loves Steve but he does love him as his best friend as well and wants him to have what he wants out of life. If that’s going back in time to Peggy Carter (who wouldn’t, really?) and leaving him behind then, fine. He wishes he were still here but he’ll deal but he’s going to be keeping an eye out for the other guy left behind-- Steve’s new modern era best friend person. Bucky’s so gone over keeping Steve safe that he can’t even resent Sam’s presence-- he’s thrilled he exists. Someone good to look after Steve when Bucky couldn’t! Sam Wilson is heaven sent and must be protected at all costs! So frequently from some kid with webbed fingers, apparently! 

Sam, meanwhile, is challenged by the dilemma that Bucky appears to think that they’re in the same boat while Sam, who for sure had a little crush on Steve as who doesn’t, has really come to realize that he is far, far more into the tragic one here. He’s so irritated about it. It would be simpler if he just fell for another blond soldier with red, white and blue blood who couldn’t love him. At least he’d just be completely hopeless then but the brainwashed one? The one that thinks he’s horrid but is so good that he can’t even bring himself to be that jealous of Sam when he clearly thinks Sam is sleeping with the guy he’s loved for years? 

Oh, Sam’s gone on that one... 

Bucky’s still a mess then so it’s harmless enough to just pretend he’s not writing himself into touch-starved Bucky fanfic in his own mind here but when Bucky keeps saving him in different fights? When he catches him looking once or twice. When the bickering is really flirting and Sam knows he means it that way, too? When the poor guy just gets his mind back, they all reunite and go to one battle and then the two of them disappear and miss *five years* of their lives? When then, soon after, Steve is gone, too? 

When it begins to feel like *they* are now the story and meant to go through the rest of these things together? I mean, when everyone else is all on about the fate and destiny of it all-- Stark’s big sacrifice being the one way to save everyone, Doctor Strange going on about all the possibilities of the universe on a saving the world level but it so personal to the people Sam and Bucky know, Steve choosing to go back in time because he can and be with the woman he loved and never got to have... 

...standing there in the funerals and aftermaths of all of this together, by virtue of being Steve’s Friends Who Aren’t Really Part of This Gang Exactly... are Sam and Bucky. What are the odds that they are supposed to be the rest of one another’s story? Sam was wondering it. He for sure hadn’t felt like this since Riley... he might not have really ever felt it at all before. 

Can we just admit that while there’s been some guys in the past-- and it could be rephrased as ‘some people’, as while Sam is written to suggest he’s at least into men, he could be into people who don’t identify as men as well-- but there’s not been someone who has been able to love him the way he’s loved them. 

He’s from the South and Black and the show taps into the racism he’s been through as a result. Not obviously in Delacroix, where he feels safe and seen, where people care about him and don’t care that he is not straight, but in other parts. He’s been in the military, where homophobia is still pretty rampant and it’s a culture of a lot of heterosexual machismo. (Hell, the show even has a kind of walking, talking example of a guy everyone knows was the epitome of that kind of culture, even if he’s been broken by that world, too-- John Walker.) It’s not even really clear if Sam is out and, if he is, to whom. He seems to be the kind of person to want to be himself as much as possible and Sarah likely knows because they are close but I’m not so sure that a lot of Sam’s military buddies actually did. He really strikes me as the guy who gets along with everybody and whom everybody loves-- but whom few people actually *know* because he keeps himself (all of himself, not just his sexuality) private from others...

...which is also a hell of a lot like one Bucky Barnes. 

Guaranteed they became such fast friends not just from being sort of left with one another in the aftermath of Steve and their attraction but because Sam was amazed to find that Bucky was actually pretty funny and Sam just kept talking to him because while he has-- or had, anyways, before he ran off with Steve-- a ton of people he’d consider friends, he doesn’t really have anyone he’d consider to be a close friend and hasn’t since Riley. Bucky, just still stunned to be free of mind control and that there was another human being talking to him instead of looking at him as a weapon to program to kill, was eager to listen to and absolutely thrilled when he could find something sarcastic to say to make Sam laugh that surprised laugh and light up. 

These two damaged couple of guys spent most of this show and the months before it just terrified by how much love they were feeling for one another and were very happy to let any conflict they could get in the way of it-- any excuse to claim they weren’t feeling totally seen and run for the hills back into their own trauma.

It’s not just Bucky doing this. He might have been the one not returning the texts at the start, the one who seemed to be withdrawing more, while Sam was texting him still to check in on him but how quickly that began to flip around by Episode 5. 

Suddenly, the brave one is Bucky. It was Sam for the first few episodes-- he was stil trying and so hard, despite not getting what he needed in return and Bucky still sending signals that he wanted him but was happy to still revel in being too damaged and scared to try harder. By Episode 5, though? Bucky’s not only learned to trust himself again, it is proven to be what he was afraid of: not being able to protect and love Sam the way he wanted to and that Sam would leave him. Triggered by the shield as a metaphor for not caring about Bucky, not having a reason to still pursue him, Bucky thought he had successfully pushed Sam away and that Sam would really stop texting because to not do so would be to admit to one another that they wanted to be around one another and this wasn’t just about Steve/Captain America. By Episode 5, Bucky shows up in Delacroix not perfect by any stretch of the imagination but with eyes only for Sam and is every one of Sam’s favorite Bucky Barnes fantasies come to life. 

It’s now Sam flipping out. Would you have expected the Sam of the first two episodes to be a babbling mess in the face of a flirty Bucky stretching and claiming it’s time for him to go get a hotel room? To try to be playing it cool but winding up asking him to stay forever and telling him he likes his tight t-shirts in the middle there? To get so nervous that he suddenly is babbling about six toes and flirting with Sarah, showing how jealous he was of Bucky just... smiling and being this guy Steve had said was under there but that Sam had only had small glimpses of so far? If he was gone for the broken Winter Soldier... he’s wrecked by a single smile from this Bucky. 

This is the same guy who spent the first few episodes confident to a point of near-cockiness, loving flirting with and teasing Bucky, the one that seemed more well-adjusted and in control of himself. Overall, he is but there’s something there when Bucky shows up and White Wolfs Sam into a sputtering mess who is sending him little glances, as if they’ve switched bodies from the first few episodes. It shows *just how much* Sam is comfortable with Bucky and how rare it is for him because he would react differently to Bucky’s more overt flirting of Episode 5 if how he is with Bucky was his default in life. Instead, we see that some of it is posturing-- it’s the Sam equivalent of lifting heavy things and using power tools. His is the humor (what’s a better aphrodisiac than making the Winter Soldier laugh or flirt back or blush?) and the bicker-caring. We even see where it comes from, in a way. Sam is a soldier-- he knows how to help other traumatized soldiers and when we saw him in his VA group session when we met him, we saw him using that kind of machismo world and its language to communicate with the soldiers in the group. The difference for him with them versus him with Bucky is that he’s also flirting with Bucky. The buddy cop thing is intentional-- it’s Sam’s strategy, it’s been Bucky’s choice to respond to it and they’re playacting it as how they talk because it’s been easier than admitting that they are completely gone on another and just want all the soft things. 

Up until recently anyway and now Sam’s reeling from a man he’s fallen in love with showing up and loving him back. Don’t think for a second that Bucky doesn’t know enough by now to know that it’d totally undo Sam but the surprise of it to the audience only really exists if you don’t think Sam and Bucky have anything in common besides their now-gone mutual friend. In reality, they’re endgame. 

[onelastbreath-writes]

I Spy

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales/Fem!Reader (AFAB, no y/n)

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Brief mention of bad(abusive/manipulative) parents, general adult topics, swearing.

Summary: You meet a cute guy at a bar, you date, you fall in love, and oops, it turns out you’ve both been lying about your careers. Classified only stays classified until you get assigned a mission together. (SpecOps&Spies, with Young!Frankie)

A/N: Hey guys, I was bad and started another fic. Whoops. This one is for Triple Frontier because I love that soft boi Francisco. The flavour of this fic, the vibe if you will, is basically the spiderman pointing meme. I’ve vaguely set the timeline to like mid-2000s? so I’ll be trying my best to stay true to technology and aesthetic of the era. There was so much denim. Anyways, that means I’m trying to write for about a 27-33 year old Frankie and a similarly aged reader. I don’t see this series being more than a couple chapters at best, so it’ll be short and sweet. Also, like, very little angst if I can help it; I just want this one to be a good, cute, fun read. Hope y’all enjoy! Xoxo

[AO3][Masterlist]

“So, you’re coming out tonight, right? You’re not busy or anything?”

“Please don’t say it like that, you know how busy work actually is. And I’m a grown woman; if I didn’t want to go to a shady dive bar with you and your very loud friends from the office, I’d say so,” You loved your best friend, and you missed spending time together, but you really couldn’t say the same for her co-workers.

You had nothing against the women she worked with, and you found that they were all perfectly lovely and usually quite fun to be around… it was just that when the alcohol came out, the volume control and verbal filters disappeared.

You wouldn’t say that barhopping was what you’d prefer to be doing tonight, along with more or less babysitting your friend and her friends, but you didn’t know when you’d next be able to squeeze in a night off to just hang out and have fun, so this was happening. You would laugh and smile and keep the drunk secretaries from going home with questionable people, and then you would look back on your ladies’ night with fond memories until you could eventually attend another.

You had known when you picked your career that it would be an around-the-clock, all-day, every-day sort of thing. You never deluded yourself into thinking you would have much of a social life or long-term relationships. Most partners, hell even most friends, would have a problem with you jetting off for weekends, or disappearing for days at a time under mountains of paperwork and appointments.

It just made your best friend that much more important to you. You’d met as kids, went through years of school beside each other, hung out, did stupid teenager things and then stupid young adult things together. You’d cried and laughed and fought and made up a million times, you’d gone to different colleges and still kept in touch, moved away, moved back, and you were still going strong. She was your ride-or-die, your anchor and your parachute and everything in between, so if you could use some of your precious, hoarded, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it time off to see her, that’s just what you’d do.

“You should take some of that fire, and direct it at your boss. Tell him no for a change. I’d love to see his face at that!” She meant well, always trying to look out for you and your health when it came to your beyond demanding job. You weren’t even allowed to tell her a fraction of what you were doing in your professional life, and she knew it, but that didn’t stop her from being ready to throw fists at your employer at a moment’s notice.

“One does not simply tell the über-rich that they don’t need to fly to Paris, again. Being a PA is a full-time nannying gig, except your charge is an adult who can argue when you say no, and you cannot put them on timeout when they’re being a brat. Where he goes, I go, and unless something drastic happens, it will probably continue on like that for a while.” She laughed at your jokes, and your heart hurt a little less at her glee. You knew she would never give up on you or blame you for your work being unpredictable, but that didn’t make the sting of last-minute cancels and missed outings hurt any less, for either of you.

“But it must be nice, just getting on a plane and going somewhere amazing at the drop of a hat. Travelling the world like a superstar, meeting people, having amazing adventures with mysterious strangers…”

“Easy there, Mamma Mia, your wanderlust is showing. And I’d take you with me in a heartbeat if I could. You were born to be a jetsetter, not to be stuck in this town with nothing but the office cubicle beside you to stare at. And I still think you should apply for one of those immersive culture grants you keep mooning over. They’d be fools not to fund your writing expedition!” She was an incredible person, three full degrees to her name in the time it took a normal student to get one, and a brain that could run miles around the rest of the professionals in her field. But she was tethered to this quiet backwater town, and she wasn’t free to fly like she deserved.

“You know I can’t just… go, like you can. My mom, it’d just break her heart… I don’t want to leave her alone, not after Dad,” You honestly doubted that you’d ever meet a woman more horrible and undeserving of her own daughter’s kindness. Helen was a parasite full of lies and manipulations and greed, and she had attached herself like a bad rash to your friend after she’d chased away the rest of her family members.

Your friend searched for the good in everyone, but you wished she’d stop looking for it at that home.

“You deserve your own happiness and freedom, and she should be encouraging you to spread your wings if and when you’re ready.” Politicking your friend was never something you enjoyed. She was the last person you wanted to use your negotiating credentials and sly subterfuge tactics against, but you wanted, needed, her safety and health more. You considered it almost bribery; dangling her dream future in front of her in exchange of being rid of the garbage in her life.

“Hey now, we’re getting way too deep into sad-drunk night conversations, and this is strictly a happy-fun-drunk night. Please leave all baggage and woes at the door, thank you!” You admitted your defeat and surrendered your verbal power point on Why Helen Needs to Disappear. You would get her next time for sure, give her the accelerant to burn down that bridge. “Anyways, the reason I called was to remind you of our haunt for the night. One of the girls, Kelly, you remember Kelly, found this adorable little hole in the wall. A total boys’ club apparently: darts, pool, sports games on the TV, but Kelly’s sister’s friend’s brother Tyler said the place was a favourite of the local army guys. So, if nothing else, we’ll at least have some hunks to look at for a while. It’ll be great!”

You jotted down the directions to the bar as she listed them, and the time you were expected to arrive there.

“Oh! And wear that cute little blue number you bought last spring; I know you still have it so don’t you dare lie. It makes your ass and legs look divine, and I think you could stand to make a new acquaintance tonight.” That Little Blue Number was buried in the back of your closet where you had hoped it would remain forever, but luck was not on your side tonight it seemed. But it did make you look, and feel, fantastic.  It was just so… breezy. “And heels! Real ones, not your cute little personal assistant kitten heels. Those black strappy ones would work like a dream!” You just sighed dramatically into the receiver and agreed to her demands.

“I’ll let you go now, and yes, I suppose I can be presentable tonight, dress and all. See-ya later!”

---

Hole in the wall was right. This place was basically underground it was so on the D.L. It was warm inside though, and in the middle of autumn with so much skin on display, you could not be more pleased to get away from the chilled outside air.

You would describe the interior as comfortable with a hint of rustic; lots of warm dark wood and low lights, mixed with the soft Latin music crooning in the background and the few patrons’ conversations adding to the ambience.

All in all, it was probably the nicest dive bar you’d been to in your hometown.

Your party was easy to spot where they had claimed a group of pushed together tables towards the far side of the establishment, and you carefully made your way over to them in your tricky high heels.

You said your hellos to returning faces and introduced yourself to the new additions, and accepted the chair you were pointed to and the drink pressed into your hand.

And so, the hours rolled.

You had enjoyed two fruity cocktails and a flaming shot before you called it quits on the alcohol for the night. You still had a few hours to sober up enough to drive home safely, and you would be able to help the girls get to their rides and ways home too. You appreciated having a social drink or two, but you didn’t care for hangovers and would happily take slightly tipsy over party-hard drunk anytime. Plus, your contract stated you were on-call, always, and you could be required to navigate high-stress negotiations at the drop of a hat. It was just better to cut yourself off, then reap the consequences of your actions later.

You tapped your friend’s shoulder as you walked past and leaned over to talk into her ear. “I’m getting some water for the table; do you want anything else?”

“Mmmm, no I think we’re good for now, thanks!” She was plastered already, but she had a huge grin on her face and was laughing at her co-workers’ stories, so you considered it a win of a night. You gave her a pat goodbye and swayed your way to the bar.

But you just were not accounting for the uneven floorboards, or how much your heels affected your currently less than steady equilibrium, and before you could blink you were teetering over into a nasty fall.

“Whoa there, easy does it, muñequita” Arms wrapped around you and pulled you back into a warm chest. “Careful now, don’t go twisting an ankle in those fancy shoes.”

You certainly did not account for the man you turned around to face. Wow.

His hands glided respectfully from where he had caught you around the waist to your still bent and held out elbows, steadying you as you swayed dangerously again.

Warm brown eyes, soft brown curls, and the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, and you knew that it wasn’t left over adrenaline from your near wipeout. He was gorgeous and handling you so gently, and you wanted to spend forever in that moment.

“Hey there, palomita, I’m Frankie, can I buy you a drink?”

[Next Part]

[fulokis]

Wrote this little dadneto in the MCU thing, so have fun. ‘

____

Erik Leshner stood in the collapsed building, next to the bomb siting on the floor looking harmless. He could barely look at the destruction around him. He had left his children in their hands, two of the only people in the world who knew why he had to abandon the twins. Now they were gone, their bodies lie somewhere underneath the rubble their last breaths long gone from their lungs.

The songs of war had moved into the distance, leaving their path of destruction in their wake. A path that his children had been right in the middle of. Erik wanted to scream, to tear the broken building off of its foundations and throw it far away. But deep down he couldn't, he was still too numb from hearing about the tragedy. Not only that but he couldn't destroy  the  resting place of the Maximoffs no matter how hard he tried.

Irena and Oleg, Erik wasn't even sure how he had known them. Perhaps it was through Magda, or perhaps he pondered he had known one of their parents a long time ago. Either way he knew them and despite being so closed off, liked them. They liked him too, by some twisted logic they trusted him and adored him like family. So when he ended up at their door asking them to take the twins, the only reason they hesitated was to make sure Erik had been sure of the decision.

Erik had never been sure of the decision. Now standing here among the wreckage he felt even less sure, as if he had made the wrong one. One of thousands of wrong decisions that he had made in his life. One of many more yet to come. Still Erik couldn't help but wonder how any of this would have turned out had he decided to keep the twins with him. He told him self over and over again that the outcome would have been worse. He could have had an attachment to them, and then have them ripped away from him. Just like so many other people he had cared for throughout his life.

Erik turned to face the giant hole in the building. Snow and ash fell on his hair making it look much more gray than it was. The smell of the cold mixed with the smell of burning wood and plastics from the nearby rubble where buildings once stood. Erik couldn't help but turn again to take a look over the destroyed apartment, hoping to find the bodies to give them a proper burial. All he could see were the shattered remains of items that had belonged in the apartment.  Most items held little to no significance, a broken TV playing some sort of sitcom, the couch where they had told the Maximoffs that they were expecting, the small guest bed strangely still intact.

Erik took a double take, the bed as he had remembered it was hardly steady. For it to survive the initial bomb blast was nothing short of a miracle. An extremely unlikely occurrence considering there was what appeared to be a defective bomb sitting right next to it. That's when he noticed the room itself was not nearly as damaged as it should be. One side had been obliterated, whilst the other remained almost perfectly intact. The other three small rooms of the apartment seemed to be gone themselves, with nothing but piles of concrete in their place.

Erik walked over slowly to the bed and closed his eyes in relief as he heard the squeak of a terrified child from under the bed. Erik chose a slab of concrete to sit down on, trying to make himself less intimidating to the child underneath the bed "Its okay I'm a friend." He said in broken Sokovian.

"You don't speak Sokovian that well." Came a young boy's voice from underneath the bed.

"No I don't. You however speak English quite well for someone your age."

"I'm not young your just old." The child said sticking his face out slightly eyeing Erik with curiosity.

"Peitro don't." A second child's voice came out from under the bed, much softer than the boy's.

"It's okay I don't bite." Erik said, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders. They had both survived, and since they had survived one or both of them had manifested their powers.

"What are you doing here?" The boy asked still timid but not nearly as much as his sister.

"I was looking for survivors Peitro." Erik said.

"Hey how'd you know my name!" Peitro yelled.

"Your sister told me." Erik replied knowing he just lied to his kid.

"Oh." Peitro said, inching further out from under the bed, "You look funny, kinda like the people on the TV."

"Peitro!" The girl cried slapping him on the arm.

"Wanda what was that for?!"

"You don't know if we can trust him, besides that wasn't nice." Wanda said.

"You can trust me Wanda." Erik said, "I won't hurt you I promise."

A DVD case flew out from underneath the bed, clearly propelled by something other than a child's physical hand. Erik attempted to dodge the object but failed when it veered off what appeared to be its projected course, hitting him in the shoulder. Wanda peaked out a bit testing the water trying to see if Erik was telling the truth. "You promise?" She asked hesitantly.

"I promise." Erik said reaching a hand out. The girl slid from under the bed into the pale light of the street lamps reflecting off the snow. Erik had expected her to be covered in bruises and cuts, but all he could see was dirt and grime. "What day did this happen?" He asked softly his heart sinking as Wanda took his hand. She looked pale, and it was clear that she hadn't had any food or water in a day or two.

"Friday." She said a distant look in her eyes. Erik could feel his heart clench, last he had checked his watch it was one in the morning on Monday. These children— his children had been stuck up in the building for two full days. Sitting waiting for either the bomb, the exposure, or the lack of food and water to kill them. Erik silently cursed as a tear ran down his cheek. "Are you okay?" Wanda asked.

Erik took his free hand and wiped the tear away, "I'm okay." He said to her trying to reassure himself that he wasn't about to lose it and add to the chaos. "A little ash in my eye that's all."

"What's that?" Peitro asked pointing to the tattoo on Eriks wrist.

Erik looked down and slid his sleeve up a little more so that the twins could see. "I'm an orphan like you." He said quietly, "Some very bad people took my parents away from me. Then they gave me this tattoo and told me to work. There was a lot of killing, and a lot of families were torn apart."

"Are we gonna get torn apart?" Wanda asked.

"No." Erik said, "You two won't because I know you two will stick to each other like glue."

Wanda turned to face Peitro and the boy nodded. "Are you going to take us with you?"

Erik felt his heart sink. That was the exact question he was asking himself. "No, I can't. My work doesn't leave me much time for family."

"What do you do?" Peitro asked.

"Why are you here then?" Wanda asked.

"Slow down." Erik said aiming the comment towards his son than his daughter. "I work on top secret missions for the US government. Missions that don't allow me to have a family." Erik said knowing he was yet again lying to his children. "As to your question Wanda, I knew your parents."

"I would remember you." Wanda said.

"I knew your parents a long time ago, before you were born. I'm sure I knew them as very different people than you did. When I heard about what had happened I had to see. I'm glad the two of you are alive."

"Barely." Peitro said "I'm starving."

"How about this, I take you back to my hotel room and you can clean up and sleep? I'll take you two to the orphanage in a couple days." Erik said knowing it was a stretch. The truth was he needed to make himself scarce soon otherwise the authorities would find him, an occurrence that was sure to become nasty.

"No." Wanda said, "We go to the orphanage in the morning."

"I understand." Erik replied. He did understand, to the twins he was a stranger. A stranger looking to use them rather than it being out of the kindness of his heart. They were probably right, had they been any other kids he would have used them, or even disregarded them and left them to die.

"What now?" Wanda asked.

"Tell us a story!" Peitro said, running to where the bookshelf used to be at a slightly inhuman speed. "Aww they’re gone." He grumbled running back to his sister and Erik.

Erik smiled softly, Magic and superhuman speed, just what the situation would have needed. Magic was in the twins veins, and their mother was quite gifted with her magic. Speed on the other hand seemed to be a new addition to the mutant tree, but that didn't mean that it wasn't predictable. After all Peitro had seemed to be constantly moving around in the womb, and the one time Erik had called Irena, she told him they couldn't stop Peitro from running off.

"Do you have any stories?" Wanda asked looking at her father.

"Yes I do Wanda. Not in books though, stories in my head."

"Tell us one!" Peitro yelled.

"I know the perfect one." Erik said standing up and sitting on the guest bed back against the wall. He patted next to him and one twin sat on either side of him. "A long time ago there was this group of people..."

"Is there any action?!" Peitro asked.

"Why is it always fighting?" Wanda asked "Why can't you accept a peaceful story about people?"

"Shh, there's plenty of both." Erik consoled the twins before starting the story again. "This group of people were fighting for people like them, people who were different."

"Different how?" Wanda asked.

"These people had powers, abilities beyond your wildest imaginations. They fought so others like them and their children could live in a world that accepted them. Some of them looked different, and had strange appearances. Some of them looked like you or me, but had powerful abilities that one would never be able to guess."

"Like flight?" Peitro asked.

"Yes like flight." Erik confirmed the soft smile returning to his face, "They created silly little names for each other, each one embraced a part of who they are. They called themselves the X-men."

"Are the X-men real?" Wanda asked.

"Maybe they were. This was so long ago no one is quite sure. I doubt if they were real they are still around anymore." Erik said pausing to collect his thoughts. It had been so long ago on the beaches of Cuba where he had stood, in his mid twenties and full of rage and anger. That man that had stood there was gone, replaced with a much more dangerous combination of those primal emotions.

"Keep going?" The boy asked leaning in closer to Erik.

"Only if you don't interrupt any more." Erik teased.

"We won't we promise." Wanda said sending a glare towards her brother.

Erik continued to tell the twins the exploits of the X-men. How in the end they saved the world, and how they were held as heroes among the people they had fought so hard to gain acceptance from. How in the end they were forced to keep themselves a secret for fear that they would be hunted down despite their heroics. How even though heroes can do all the right things sometimes life makes them walk a different path.

Erik finished the story and looked down. Both twins were snoring softly, having fallen asleep likely for the first time in days. Erik couldn't keep in the tears, he could feel as they ran down his face. The cold making the trails of moisture they left behind burn on his skin.

He still remembered the last time he had held them like this. Three days after they were born Magda had come down with a fever. Three days after that she was dead, not even the hospital was sure what had happened. Erik still could feel as both newborns were in his arms fast asleep unbeknownst about their mother in pain and agony next to them. He could still feel the tears as he watched the doctors rush in to try and save her. The numbness when it was all over and when the sun rose. He still felt the pain, sometimes as if it were happening all over again. 

That was the first time the twins had lost their parents. Erik knew he changed after that, he always knew he would. Now sitting here holding the twins he realized they never even knew that they had lost their parents before. For them this was the first time they had experienced this, pain that lasts for a life time. Erik had given them up so they wouldn't have to experience this in the event he got into some trouble he couldn't simply solve with magnetism. Ironically that didn't save them. The act meant to save them and let them be children had failed.

So what was stopping him from taking them home? Living a quiet life somewhere? Erik knew the answer, he was afraid. Afraid to loose again. He knew that if he knew them, and then lost them things would go bad very fast. He didn't want that, Magda, his mother, anyone who had loved him, didn't want that. The anger and rage he held would explode, and Erik knew that if he were to explode the world might not be around anymore.

Peitro stirred a bit, and Erik looked down to make sure he was still asleep. Both twins looked a lot like their mother. They had inherited the dark brown hair and the same shaped nose. Peitro's eyes were just like Magda's. Wandas eyes were like his own, as well as her personality. Erik feared for her, not about what had happened but rather what would happen and what events might set her down an even darker path than the one she walked.

Erik sighed, exhausted from finding his way to the small country. He had seen the news, the several city blocks leveled by bombs. Thousands dead by the estimates and thousands more injured. He had come as fast as he could, unfortunately he feared he was not fast enough.

He pulled both twins in closer to him, in the hopes that his body heat would be able to keep them alive for the next few hours. Neither one seemed to mind or maybe they were to tired to even care. For a second Erik could imagine that they were at the little home he and Magda had bought, sitting in the room with the skylight watching the stars. But they weren't and they never would. Erik placed a small kiss on the top of each twins head before drifting off to sleep himself.

Hours later he was woken by the flashlight of a Red Cross worker. Erik wasn't expecting them to have shown up, but it was for all the better considering the twins had to go back into normal society. Although most people would write the story of him floating the three of them in the air down to the ground as the overactive imagination of a child.

The volunteer that had climbed over the building started speaking Sokovian. Erik could barely understand them, and neither twin was up, "Ich spreche Deustch." Erik said without thinking. 

"Um." The young woman said, "Do you speak English?"

Erik chuckled, "Yes I speak English."

"Are you hurt? Are either of your kids hurt?" She asked, slowly trying to remember the right sounds to say.

"No. The kids need food and water though." Erik said softly looking at the twins. They looked worse than they had previously, something Erik attributed to the lack of light at night.

"You are fine?" She asked confused.

"Yes, I'm a friend to their family." Erik said.

"You were not here when the bombs dropped then?"

"No." Erik said.

"Can you carry them?" The woman asked signaling some people at the bottom of the building.

"Yes." Erik said, "One at a time though." The woman nodded at him and Erik stood up sliding Peitro to lie on the bed while scooping Wanda in his arms. Erik nodded at the young woman and she helped direct him to the edge of the building where there was a makeshift rope ladder. Erik took hold of the ladder with one hand holding tight onto Wanda. Erik climbed down carefully trying to protect Wanda from the wind blowing snow and ash their way. Erik made it down and placed Wanda on a makeshift bed in the back of a pickup truck. Erik repeated the same thing with Peitro nearly falling a couple times due to the wind.

Erik placed Peitro next to his sister and looked at the two of them sleeping peacefully next to each other. He sighed knowing what had to come next. He didn't have the heart to wake them up, they needed their sleep. "Don't loose each other." He started to whisper to them "Don't let anyone push you down. Stand up for one another and stick together. The world is hard and cruel, having someone by your side will soften the blows. I wish I did. Don't forget who you are either, don't loose yourselves to the pain and rage. Just remember who you are and you'll be fine."

Erik stood up and looked at the young woman who had climbed down after him. "Can I trust you'll get them somewhere safe?"

"You are not taking them?" She asked confused.

"No." Erik felt his voice crack, "I can't." The woman nodded at him and the small band of volunteers packed up the area. Their sweep had yielded no one except the twins and there was no reason for them to stay in the area. Erik watched as they climbed in the back of the truck protecting his kids. He watched as the trails of exhaust disappeared off into the distance. That was it he knew, he was lucky to even get this chance. For the second time in his life Erik Lehnsherr had abandoned his children, and this time he was even less sure of his decision. But now it was over, he would never see them again, and he knew that was for the best.