#AND MOST IMPORTANTLY SOMETIMES YOU NEED TO BE YELLED AT

[commanderfreddy]

people are discoursing about the laios and shiro fight bc that was always going to happen but i do hope that wave crests quickly and we can all come to see it as what it is: literally one of the best written fights between two people who are both entirely justified in their actions and acting without any malice or cruelty of all time

#theres a tendency - especially in action and faction based media (which a lot of fantasy is or is in dialogue with) - to depict fights only #as happening between someone who Is Right and someone who Is Wrong #and getting to see a full on beatdown between two dudes who are both acting in an entirely understandible way and who both dont actually #want to hurt the other at all - to the extent where their desire to maintain a positive relationship with each other is the SOURCE of their #conflict in the first place - is just so cathartic to see #like unpopular opinion but sometimes you do just need to Fight someone to work through issues youre having #like irl i would not recommend that extent of Force obviously #but if you're two people in a situation where neither has active power over the other sometimes the healthiest option involves expressing #and receiving genuine anger that is not filtered through a social buffer #like sometimes you just need to yell that someone is pissing you off by how much they invade ur time and space and sometimes you need to #yell that someone is sabotaging your ability to interact with them by not expressing any discomfort with your behaviour ever #AND MOST IMPORTANTLY SOMETIMES YOU NEED TO BE YELLED AT #BECAUSE it sucks. it sucks to experience and until you can both share that space of feeling awful with each other youre not gonna get past #it and you're not gonna understand each other's pain #i think they're both wonderfully well written characters and its a testament to their depth as people that i can so easily understand why #and how both of them are behaving the way they do #im still only like halfway through the manga but it is like my favourite character interaction scene so far #fred says a thing #dunmeshi

[starkwlkr]

Hahah the moms flirting with Charles. You should write a dad flirting with Ruby’s mom and she tells charles and he’s like wtf

you’re not my dad | charles leclerc

yes, the title is a vine reference 🧍🏽‍♀️

request #2: Could we please have return of baby leclerc, where she's out with her mum and a man starts to flirt with yn but he won't leave her alone and then Ruby is like she happy with my papa and then Charles notices and gets him to go away, pleasee and thank you, I love your work

Ruby loves Texas. She loves the food, the cowboy hats and boots she got to wear everytime she visited the state, but most importantly, she loves going to the hotel pool on a hot day.

It was a nice sunny day in Austin when Ruby woke up her parents demanding them to take her to the pool. It was media day for Charles so as much as he wanted, he couldn’t join his family for a pool day.

“Listen to your maman, be good and have fun for me, okay?” Charles pressed several kisses to Ruby’s cheeks.

“Okay, papa!” Ruby gave Charles even more kisses.

Charles said goodbye to his family, wishing he could skip every interview, but he couldn’t leave Carlos alone.

“Baby, which swimsuit do you want?” Y/n asked the girl, who overpacked. Ruby had practically stuffed her entire closet into her tiny princess suitcase.

On the bed laid two swimsuits, a pink and purple one piece. Ruby took choosing her swimsuit seriously. Pink was her favorite color, but purple was her mother’s favorite. She ended up choosing purple. After putting on her swimsuit, Ruby wanted to wear her goggles, arm floaties and her donut shaped floaty. She probably looked crazy with all her floaties on, but she didn’t care. She was ready for the pool.

Y/n was also in her swimsuit, but had on a pair of swim shorts over her bottoms. When they finally arrived to the pool, Ruby stopped herself from running since her mother had told her about the pool rules.

They found an empty table to put their bags on. Ruby patiently waited for Y/n to take out the sunscreen. To her it felt like forever, but eventually Y/n gave her the okay to enter the pool.

“I’m going to be a mermaid maman!” Ruby yelled as she jumped into the pool. She doggy paddled all over the pool with Y/n keeping a close eye on her.

“Maman! I can swim from here to there really fast! Watch me! Are you watching me?” Ruby called out to Y/n, who laughed at the little girl. She swam as fast as she could to one spot then turned to look at her mother. She didn’t expect to see a man talking to Y/n.

“Hi, there.” The man said to Y/n. “I’m Matt.” He introduced himself.

Y/n politely smiled and nodded. “Hi.”

“You visiting?”

“Sure.”

All Y/n wanted to do was enjoy a pool day with her Ruby Jules but this ‘Matt’ guy decided she needed some company.

From her spot in the water, Ruby noticed the frown on her mama’s face. She hated seeing her mama upset so she swam to the edge. “Mama.” Ruby spoke.

“This your daughter? She’s really pretty like her mama.” He said with a smile. “Hi, little girl.”

Ruby looked at her mama, who shook her head. But Ruby wasn’t letting this man ruin her day. No, they didn’t deserve to have their day ruined by some stranger.

“Only my papa can call me and my mama pretty. Sometimes my uncle Pierre calls me pretty, but you can’t.” Ruby replied, already giving her famous ‘Ruby glare’.

“Well your papa is a very lucky man.”

“Yeah, and he loves me and mama more! I’m telling papa.” Ruby said in a threatening manner.

“Hold on, I’m just telling your mama she’s a very pretty woman. No need to tell your dad about it.” The man tried to defend himself. From her seat, Y/n was enjoying Ruby make ‘Matt’ wish he didn’t come up to her.

“Papa calls us pretty. You’re not my dad.” Ruby said with the most serious face ever.

Matt, feeling scared for his life, apologized and excused himself. He walked away wishing he was anywhere else at the moment.

Y/n chuckled and got up from her seat. “You’re the best, my Ruby Jules.” She took off her swim shorts so she was just in swimsuit and joined Ruby in the water.

“Want to play mermaids?”

When Charles finally arrived, both Ruby and Y/n had showered and changed into their matching pajamas. They were currently watching The Lorax on the tv.

“How was the pool?” Charles asked Y/n as he joined them on the bed.

“Wonderful. Ruby, want to tell papa your favorite part?” Y/n asked her daughter.

“We played mermaids and I swam really fast and then some guy was talking to maman but I made him go away and then we came here and now we’re watching my favorite movie!”

“What?”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #anon #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #baby leclerc series #charles leclerc imagine

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。RIGOR — AL-HAITHAM.

contents. mild injuries (al-haitham), established relationship, fluff, really bad banter, al-haitham is left handed because i say so

notes. literally just 2k embarrassing words of you taking care of al-haitham after he’s injured from a trip to the desert. yeah.

“that stings,” al-haitham hisses, glaring at you—which earns him an equally as harsh glare back. “why don’t you just pour the entire bottle of antiseptic down my arm at this rate?

“don’t yell at me,” you hiss back, scowling as you dab at the (already clean) wound some more, “i’m not the one who came back with this. why didn’t you get it checked?”

to your utter dismay, al-haitham comes home from a visit to the desert injured. gravely.

well, truth be told, it’s not really grave. that’s just how you see it because anything beyond a scratch is enough to throw you into a fit of panic. he’s not really used to coming home to someone fretting over him like this—standing between his legs as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, dabbing ever so gently at the small (and hardly deep, he’d like to point out) cut on his arm.

running into eremites is an inevitable part of most visits to desert ruins. usually, al-haitham manages to come back unscathed, but sometimes, things don’t always go accordingly. in his defense, he’d thought he’d be able to dodge the blade of the eremite he happened to be fighting. al-haitham has the precision and athletic ability to not only manage, but excel at dodging things that are thrown at him. but still, even he has his moments of miscalculation, and just by a hair, he feels the sting of a blade’s edge tearing through the surface of his skin.

it’s unfortunate, but it’s not a big deal—at least, that’s what he thought. apparently, but not unusually, you have a tendency to disagree with him on most things.

“i was going to check it myself,” he says simply, “it would’ve been fine.”

“oh, i didn’t realize you graduated in linguistics and biology,” you raise a brow.

al-haitham is a well rounded man—he reads books from just about any subject so long as it’s informative and offers him new knowledge that can assist him in being well versed in any topic. more importantly, al-haitham rarely loses arguments, and in order to be able to always win said arguments, his understanding of most subjects is required to be thorough.

he knows how to treat a small wound or two, especially with as often as he lands himself in small fights as he explores ruins.

he looks up at you with an unimpressed stare as he mumbles, “i’ve taken at least a few classes from every darshan.”

“i hate you,” you huff. he exhales tiredly.

“it’s only a cut,” he argues, “there’s no need to be so worried—”

“i’m always worried,” you sigh, staring dejectedly at the injury littering his arm. no one should ever leave a mark over his skin—unless it’s you, and that’s only in a very different context. “does it hurt?” you ask quietly.

a small part of him feels guilty that he’s worried you over his well being, that he’s come home harmed even the slightest bit and disrupted your peace. but the larger and more rational part of him reasons that injuries of this nature are common and inevitable in trips to the desert like this, and he’s skilled enough to ensure that nothing serious ever happens.

still, for your sake, he mumbles, “no.”

it’s a bit of a white lie—it does sting a bit, and the antiseptic you pressed just a few moments ago didn’t exactly help, but admitting to you that he’s in any sort of pain is only opening up more avenues to making this into a larger deal than it really is.

al-haitham is fine, and he’s doesn’t need anything for the slightly inconvenient but not serious laceration on his skin. he’s sure of that.

but then, you cup his cheeks and press a small kiss to his forehead as you murmur, “my poor baby,” with a small pout, “i’ll feed you dinner, okay? they got your left arm.”

he wants to tell you that his motor skills are good enough that he can function with his non dominant hand—being left handed in a world catered for right handed individuals forces you to acquire functionality in both hands. but before he can open his mouth, you kiss down his cheeks, tracing your lips along him until they map out his jaw.

it distracts him for a moment, making hie eyes close and his breath hitch as he lets your warmth settle into the deepest crevices of his skin.

“don’t worry, haitham, i’ll take care of you until this heals,” you murmur sweetly.

and just like that, al-haitham is a bit conflicted now. in his two plus decades of life, he has always been an independent and capable individual—more than most his age. he doesn’t need the assistance of anyone, nor has he ever really needed the assistance of anyone. but you’re making it very hard to resist with the way you’re doting on him with affection.

“i’m fine,” he tries to argue, “really—”

“i should run you a bath,” you mumble, cutting him off. he gets the strong feeling you’re taking more to yourself than him. “and i’ll wash your hair for you too.”

even with the self control someone like him has, even he can’t help but sigh in content when your fingers slip into his hair, stroking through the strands and scratching gently at his scalp. it’s a bit nice—he has to admit that being taken care of, even as minimally as fingers in his hair, is nice.

“you don’t have to do all that,” he mutters.

“i don’t want you moving that arm,” you huff, “would it kill you to stop acting high and mighty for once? most people would take advantage of being spoiled.”

“i don’t enjoy taking advantage of others like most people,” he shrugs.

“you know what i mean,” you glower, rolling your eyes.

it’s a common understanding to most that al-haitham is a bit difficult—you don’t think you ever remember a time where he hasn’t been. he’s stubborn and always believes his views to be correct, and he’s not ashamed of arguing his point no matter who it is. you’re surprised that mouth of his hasn’t landed him in trouble yet—although, you suppose he’s not exactly in the good graces of most at the akademiya.

and as the akademiya’s acting grand sage, you admire his unwillingness to back down. but, as your boyfriend and the man you love, you wish he’d just compromise sometimes—and maybe let you wash his hair and hand feed him dinner for a bit as you nurse his injury back to health.

just this once….and maybe just a few more times later on too. you don’t ask for much, you like to think.

“i’ve gotten injuries like this before,” he reasons, “i’ve survived.”

you look at him with that delicate look of yours, the one that makes him feel like maybe he’s been living his life wrong this whole time. that it only became correct once his life involved you.

he thinks that’s might just be the case when you grin slightly, pinching his nose as you lean down, pecking his forehead and mumbling, “you don’t always have to just survive. you can indulge a bit, you know.”

“is that so?” he raises a brow, his good arm snaking around your hips.

“yes,” you hum, “if you give it a try, you might just enjoy indulging here and there,” you grin, stroking a thumb over his cheek as you admire his features, relearning every curve and every angle of his face. you don’t think you’d ever get bored like this—just standing in your bathroom, staring at him. you think you could comfortably stay right here like this forever.

maybe longer.

“i see,” he says slowly. al-haitham has always had a strong sense of control. but that was before you—he’s now forced to admit that his resolve is a bit weaker, just a bit shakier after you’ve come along. “does this begin with washing my hair?”

“and feeding you dinner,” you nod, tracing your thumb over his brow, letting it wander along the hook of his nose. “do you want me to kiss your arm better too?”

“is that really going to help?” he asks in amusement, making you giggle.

“oh yes,” you tease, “it was in a class i took from amurta. you probably didn’t take it—it’s far too rigorous for you.”

“oh,” he nods playfully, “of course. you’ll have to excuse my lack of understanding. not everyone can be as advanced as you.”

“here,” you grin—and it’s wide, and it’s warm, and it’s far too bright to ever be dimmed by the light of your bathroom as you stare at him, “i can demonstrate if you want. hands-on learning is always the best.”

“i must ask—have you ever learned hands-on like this with anyone else?” he raises a brow.

“and if i have? would that make you jealous?”

“perhaps a little,” he admits, fighting desperately to keep his own smile hidden. it’s hard not to smile when you’re around—how could he not when you swallow the sun with your lips every time they curve upwards in that honeyed way that they do?

“don’t worry,” you giggle again—and god, he thinks, he really loves that sound. he watches you lean down and kiss softly along the edges of his wound, tracing the cut slowly as you say, “you’re my only academic partner now.”

“i’m most grateful.”

“well?” you peck his shoulder, “a kiss helps, doesn’t it?”

“it does,” he chuckles quietly, “maybe you can show me a bit more.”

he’s given into you completely by now—you can tell by the way his body is relaxed on the edge of the bathtub. you can tell by that easy grin plastered on his usually blank face. you can tell by the way he leans into your touch every chance he gets. you can tell by the way he asks you to kiss his wound some more—the same wound he didn’t think you needed to care about.

but you always care, and he’s starting to understand you always will. so he stares at you hopefully, expecting just a few more presses of your lips.

so you do, kissing along his arm, peppering scattered pecks along his shoulder, pressing your lips gently along the column of his neck as he sighs softly and closes his eyes.

maybe being taken care of isn’t so bad—maybe he’s been missing out all this time….but then again, he thinks it’s just that he’s always been missing you. like he was born to find you. like he was made to be yours and you were made to be his and you both were made for each other if nothing else.

if nothing else, al-haitham is glad to be yours.

“does it still hurt?” you ask after some time.

“just a little,” he lets himself admit, “it’s nothing i’ve never dealt with before.”

“you really worried me you know,” you breathe quietly, making him squeeze your hips in reassurance, “don’t hide next time you’re hurt.”

“and will you kiss me back to health if i tell you?” he hums, leaning his head back to let you kiss his jaw easier.

you smile against his skin, letting your touch linger for a moment before you mumble, “of course, it’s only the best treatment. only those who take rigorous classes would know that.”

“good thing i have you to teach me.”

“yes, you’re really quite lucky,” you say with a cheeky smile.

there’s a warm bath waiting for him after this. and a hand fed meal. and perhaps a few more gentle kisses. but most certainly a lifetime of you—that much he knows.

i feel like i’m borderline violating myself by posting this bc it’s so self indulgent but here u go

#teepods.writings #drabbles. #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff

[sofs16]

always

charles x childhood best friend

charles_leclerc

liked by yn_yln, and 2,282 others

charles_leclerc Hahahaahaha! My best friend is super pretty @yn_yln

view all 483 comments

yn_yln Je t’aime sharl ❤️

ynscharles 📍2023 scrolling back on charles’ posts for yn🥹

June 1, 2014

yn_yln

liked by charles_leclerc, and 283 others

yn_yln Um… am I interrupting something? view all 38 comments

charles_leclerc No, amour. I was just teaching him how to talk.

⤷ yn_yln Good luck with that, Sharl 😂

classmate1 Is this your boyfriend, Yn? He’s so cute!❤️

⤷ yn_yln Oh, no. Charles is my childhood friend:) He can be cute sometimes….

⤷ charles_leclerc Wow. Thanks y/n/n.

June 2, 2014

Sharl😘

Ynn can you come here?

Ynn ❤️

Sharl, I’m studying for my exam. Maybe the weekend?:)

Sharl😘

Please. It is very important

Ynn ❤️ Can’t you come hereee

Sharl😘

Maman misses you too

Ynn ❤️

Damn it Sharl…

Can I sleep over if I go there?

Sharl😘

Of course

Ynn❤️

See you in 10 minutes

Sharl😘

Your house is 3 minutes away

Ynn❤️ I need to shower

Sharl😘

Just shower here

“I’m here!” You ran into the Leclerc house with books occupying your arms and your backpack hung over your back.

“Ah! Yn!” Pascale took your head in her hands and kissed your forehead “You need a bath” She scrunched her nose up.

“Well I would have if your son let me be 10 minutes late…” You both looked at Charles who shrugged

“Maman, can you talk to Ynn later? I just need to talk to her” He grabbed your arm and led you to his room

“Oh mon dieu.. alright.” She already knew what this was about.

“Do I really smell that bad? It’s just been a night” you sat down on Charles’ bed and smelled the tip of your hair

“No, you smell good as always. Maman is just being maman” “Mhm okay.. what did you so importantly need to talk about?” “I got into Formula 3” He said quietly. You gasped and hugged him. “CHARLES! IM SO HAPPY FOR YO- Why are we not happy?”

“I am happy but that would mean I need to move a lot more and would not be here with you” “Okay” You said, confused to what was the problem. “You- you do not think this is a problem?” Charles scratched his head

“What.. would the problem be” “Wouldn’t it be hard to have a long distance?” “Yeah.. that’s why we’re not long distancing” You said “Are you- Are you unfriending me?”

“Excuse me? No! I’m saying I’ll go with you to all these places” You said as if it was the most obvious thing. Charles sighed, shaking his head. “No, Mon amour. What about your studies?” “Oh fu- Fudge that!” She leaned into Charles’ ear “Maman is always listening” Charles chuckled

“Seriously, you can not drop your whole life for me.” Charles said “I am not dropping it for you. I’m dropping it to be with you”

be with you

those words swirled in Charles’ head.

“I will not accept it” He shook his head “Charles.. to you not want me to be with you there? Supporting you?” “I do! But not if it means you miss out on that architect life you want!” You stayed quiet

“I’m dropping out whether you like it or not” You stood up, making your way to their living room where the phone was.

“Maman! Stop Yn from dropping out!” Charles yelled “Dropping out? What?” Maman marched over to Yn and put her hand over the phone

“What are you doing?” Pascale asked the girl. “Calling my parents to let them know I am dropping out and moving out” She held Pascale’s hand and lifted it, dialing the number.

“My girl, you have to think about this” “I did! I have been for the last year. I knew Charles was going to get this and I already have a plan.”

“What plan?” “I’m going to be cheering on Charles at every race and then I’ll study on my own” “That.. does not sound like a good plan, academically.”

“Maman, I don’t want to not be beside Charles. I’ll deal with being a drop out when it comes back to bite me at the back. I know what I am doing” — said a 16 year old.

Pascale sighed and lifted her hand from the phone completely. “Maman!” Charles sighed “It’s her life, Charles.” “Mama! Papa!….”As Charles heard you drop your whole life to be with him. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was the right time to tell you his true feelings.

f1wags

liked by 2,832 others f1wags Celebrating Max’s birthday! Charles Leclerc and Yn Yln also attended!

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forzzzzaf Sorry but I am a new fan. Who is Yn? And Max and Charles are close?

⤷ f1wags No problem, welcome! Yn is Charles’ childhood friend and knows most of the grid as well because of that. Yn and Max have been close friends since also so people are saying he invited Yn. And of course, inviting Yn means inviting Charles. They are practically glued hip to hip. ⤷ forzzzzaf They aren’t dating?!?

⤷ f1wags they always say they’re only close friends :( but we still include her in this account because she’s practically one haha october 1, 2018

charles_leclerc

liked by yn_yln, and 4,383,484 others

charles_leclerc I will cry. She keeps putting her feet up as I try to teach her how to drive.

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yn_yln mb sorry professor ;)

⤷ charles_leclerc Stop calling me that! ⤷ yn_yln it sounds sexy and silly leave me alone

october 2, 2018

charles_leclerc

liked by sebastianvettel, and 2,686,393 others

charles_leclec sebastianvettel, she says thank you for the strawberries 🍓

view all 362,484 comments

16yln just admit you’re dating babes 🙁

yn_yln can i have sum honey next time seb? :(

⤷ sebastianvettel Of course! Come over soon! february 21, 2020

charles_leclerc

liked by 4,584,383 others

charles_leclerc Stuck with this one 🫠 #Quarantine

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yn_yln u make it sound like a bad thing, sharl..

⤷ charles_leclerc 😂

⤷ yn_yln WE’VE LIVED TOGETHER FOR LIKE 6 YEARS?

⤷ charles_leclerc I am joking. I love you❤️

⤷ yn_yln I love you too💌

⤷ chachassyln just say youre dating please

april 26, 2020

yn_yln

liked by charles_leclerc, and 159,595 others

yn_yln this looks like those “Don’t give up. Life is like water, let it flow” posters

view all 3,686 comments

charles_leclerc I hate you

⤷ yn_yln enemies to lovers? 😘

⤷ pierregasly charles= flabbergasted HAAHHA

⤷ yn_yln surprised you even know what that word means

⤷ charles_leclerc 😂

⤷ pierregasly I hate both of you

⤷ yn_yln K

⤷ pierregasly STOP SAYING K

april 28, 2020

JUNE 2022 !!

it was supposed to be their bonding week, with there being 1 week free in between the montreal and silverstone gp. but charles came home to his yn escorting a man out.

yn squealed that charles was home and jumped to hug him. “oh you’re back!!! i missed you sharl!” she kissed his cheek and walked backwards.

“this is dylan!” she introduced the two “dylan, this is my best friend and roomie, sharlie!” “charles, actually” charles took the hand extended by dylan.

“i’ll see you tomorrow?” yn looked up at dylan who smiled coyly and nodded, making his way out. weird, yn thought

“you two are dating?” charles set his bags down and made his way to the room. “well… not really. a few dates here and there but i guess going into our home is a big step right?” yn shrugged as charles murmured something she couldn’t quite hear.

for 8 years charles has kept his mouth shut about his overwhelming feelings towards his best friend. 8 years he had been a coward.

the both of them were dancing in a game of dating people who never lasted more than 3 weeks.

yn was naturally a flirt. it used to get under charles’ skin as kids but as time passed, it got him right where yn wanted.

and yes, yn did like charles. but was she going to say it? maybe, maybe not.

yn_yln

liked by charles_leclerc, and 1,011,292 others yn_yln ❤️

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charles_leclerc 😍

june 24, 2022

ynn❤️🍓😘

hey sharl, ill be out of town for a week so u have the place all to urself, enjoy! don’t eat all my snacks plz

sharlie🏎️🫀🤍

Hey! Is everything okay? Won’t enjoy this house without you:( No promises.

sent 1 day ago

yn_yln

liked by charles_leclerc, and 1,373,833 others

yn_yln self care first. self care always 🤍

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charles_leclerc Beautiful ❤️

fyn1 Hot mama

[liked by charles_leclerc]

june 26, 2022

”I’m home!” You called out, leaving your bags on the desk. “YNN!” You heard Charles exclaim and you laughed. He rushed out of the room with his headphones hugging his head, meaning he was just playing or streaming.

“I missed you” I enveloped him in a hug and he moved the mic away. “I do not remember if I muted or not. Hold on! I’ll be back” He went back to the room and you smiled. You were going to tell him today.

“I’m back!” He re-entered without his headphones this time. “Sharl, are you free tonight? For dinner?” You looked up at him. “Of cours- will Dylan be with us?” He cleared his throat “No, I’m not seeing him anymore” “Oh” Charles’s mind was doing a little happy dance

tell her now

“I love you” Charles said and your breathing got unseasy. “I love you too” you smiled “No- Not like that. In- More than friends, ynn” “I know” you chuckled.

“It was always going to be you for me, Sharl” you whispered as you inched closer to each other. Fire works erupted at that moment as two lips made for each other met.

yn_yln

liked by charles_leclerc, and 1,585,383 others

yn_yln ferrari gala tonight ❤️

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charlllyn my parents 🫶🏻

charles_leclerc 😍😍😍

august 1, 2022

charles_leclerc

liked by yn_yln, and 6,373,484 others

charles_leclerc yn_yln said I should wear the glasses 😎🤓

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zendaya 😍

⤷ charles_leclerc Thank you:)

yn_yln my cute nerdy boy 🤓🤓 ⤷ charles_leclerc You’re sooooo niceeee! Though I am not sure how I feel about the glasses, but as long as you approve ❤️

⤷ scuderiayln Mans smiley faced THE zendaya and wrote a whole mushy text for yn 😭😭😭😭 MY FAVS

ynspans charles posting the bts of yn’s post 🥹

august 2, 2022

charles_leclerc

liked by yn_yln, and 7,383,484 others

charles_leclerc Summer fun ☀️

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pierregasly What kind of fun? ⤷ yn_yln putting soil and whipped cream in your shoes kinda fun ❤️

⤷ pierregasly Wow.

yn_yln thanks i was going to post that 🙁

⤷ charles_leclerc You can still post it, more people to see your beauty ❤️

ynsleclerc WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST WITNESS august 9, 2022

yn_yln instagram stories:

“red is definitely my color”

liked by charles_leclerc, and 1,494,392 others

yn_yln so lonely in my mansion (I dont have a mansion and I’m not lonely)

view all 262,595 comments

charles_leclerc 😂

harrystyles I have a mansion

⤷ yn_yln good for you watermelon suga

⤷ yn_mama AHAHAHAH DID SHE JUST 😭

leclercs16yn are we going to ignore the “im not lonely” part

⤷ ynferrari No ⤷landonorris no

⤷pierregasly no

august 11, 2022

charles_leclerc

liked by 10,484,493 others

charles_leclerc pierregasly landonorris She is not lonely ❤️

view all 2,484,494 comments

yn_yln wrong account baby

⤷ ynferrari “BABY” HELLO??????? charles_leclerc …oops? landonorris yn who and what are you wearing 🎤

⤷ yn_yln charles’ necklace and bracelet and a full heart 😍 august 12, 2022

yn_yln

liked by charles_leclerc, and 4,373,383 others

yn_yln i think he was just soft launching me this whole time (and so was i)

view all 1,595,393 comments

landonorris ew

⤷ yn_yln me when u LMAOAOAOA

⤷ landonorris carlossainz55 YN IS FIGHINTG ME

⤷ carlossainz55 Go yn!

charles_leclerc Yes. The world needs to see your beauty and I love having you on my profile 😍

⤷ yn_yln im obsessed with you

⤷ ynslecl i love them 🥹🥹

ynwife ON THE 16TH TOO😭😭

⤷ yn_yln it was always him for me 🤷🏻‍♀️

august 16, 2022

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 #social media au #charles leclerc 16

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations Pt. 5!!!!!

Okay I promised I'd share my Splinter reference notes, so here I am! Also wanna take a moment to thank everyone reblogging the prev. parts. All the tags/notes are so sweet!!! Anyway, here's our one and only Rat Man,

Splinter Character Notes

Language Habits:

Catchphrase: "HOOOOOT SOUP!!!"

Will yell "whoa/oh nelly!" when in a tight spot or stumbling around

Makes puns/dad jokes, and laughs at said jokes to himself

A poor liar, will skirt around the truth until you drop it

Penchant for interrupting people if he's not interested, devout user of "yada, yada", "ah, bup, bup, bup"

Verbalizes his attacks/moves, something his sons pick up on. Could be a habit picked up from his action star days, such moves include: lights off jitsu, and slow motion jitsu

Uses 2010's slang, (i.e. "totes", "chillaxed"), could see him incorrectly using up to date slang to embarrass his boys

In a group refers to his sons as "boys"

One by one will refer to his sons by their designated colors, but will pull out the full name (not nickname) if the situation is serious

Also refers to Donnie as "the funny one"

Personality:

A performer, well he is an actor after all. He knows how to captivate an audience. Splinter likes attention--something that may be connected to his strict childhood with high expectations--but he also performs for his boys. To keep them happy, but most importantly safe. This also means he keeps his true emotions tucked closely to his chest

Jovial. Despite his dark past and heavy responsibility thrust upon him at a young age, Splinter is always laughing. He finds the fun in everything

Secretive. As mentioned before, Splinter tends to keep things close to his chest. Despite this, he's a terrible liar. He'll just avoid the truth until it comes back to bite him in the ass. This makes him sometimes a little emotionally unavailable

Lazy. He always finds the easiest way to do something, and procrastinate on his responsibilities as long as possible

Vain. He's glory seeking for all the proper attention he lost in his youth. So the Lou Jitsu aspect of his life boosted his ego in irreparable ways. He also uses the identity of Lou Jitsu to escape from the idea of being stuck as a rat. Glorifying the past is way to find comfort for him

Adrenaline junkie. Part of that glory-seeking and glorification of the past manifests into him needing adrenaline to feel alive. (i.e. when he steals the tank)

Attentive and empathetic. He can be a little hare-brained when it comes to remembering the details, but he's always very attentive to his sons needs. In flashbacks he's shown to supply them with items needed for their interests (i.e. little Mikey gets art supplies), and always apologizes when he messes up (i.e. the conversation he had with Donnie). This empathy also extends to other people and animals, as he was sympathetic with Cassandra when she was lamenting about the foot clan and was immediately worried about the turtles Draxum had in his lab

Protective. He would sacrifice everything to save his sons, and he does

Miscellaneous:

His tail is Very expressive, and one of the most active parts of his body, so if you want to subtley show emotion I'd focus on that

Has a Lou Jitsu body pillow

Remembers all his stunt double's names

Snores loudly

Talented singer, can sing opera and lived next to a karaoke bar in Japan

The show he watches the most is called "Soapy Treadmill", a Japanese game show where they throw things like scorpions at people who are soapy on treadmills

Has a "do not touch!" cabinet, full of trophies, mystic artifacts, and mementos of his past

I have a List of all the mentioned Lou Jitsu movie names mentioned in S1, but I'm probably gonna wait till the end of my S2 rewatch and post it separately (it's also long too). Will link here!

I'm also gonna add a recommendation here at the end.

This is for the white and non East Asian folks. I'm not as well-versed in East Asian or Japanese culture, but Splinter is a first generation immigrant! He keeps a distance from his heritage because of the trauma of his youth, and the role Lou Jitsu probably also forced him to westernize his identity to make it more palpable to Hollywood. But it would be a disservice to sever parts of his identity, because one is uncomfortable or not knowledgeable in writing it.

For my white folks intimidated by writing a person of color because they want to get it right, research always helps. Research helps with everything!!! writingwithcolor here on tumblr actually has a lot of useful resources, here's their guideline, and a research chart one of their moderators created, which I personally found to be very helpful. I believe their ask box is closed right now, but if you ask questions in the future be nice!!!!

Anyway I'm gonna do April next :)

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant turtles #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt hamato yoshi #character analysis #writing #fanfic #long post #critter talks #rottmnt lou jitsu

[red-write-hand]

"You're killing people?" "No, I'm killing boys." || thomas shelby x assassin!reader

pairing -> thomas shelby x assasssin!fem!reader

word count -> 2.5k (this took me two weeks)

warnings -> i was watching jennifer's body while i was writing the beginning and i think it accidentally started to seep into my writing, bisexuality??, hella tension, maybe some ooc tommy???, assassin stuff, a lot of dirty thoughts (i mean a lot)

notes -> yeah jennifer's body was a reeeally big influence of this. i had a good idea but this could have died, sorry yall!! also no beta read, we die like peaky fookin' blinders

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE LITERALLY SO HELPFUL Y'ALL HAVE NO IDEA

——————————————-

An assassin is defined as someone who is paid to kill someone. In this business, you need to pay a handsome price to kill someone as important as Thomas Shelby. It wouldn’t be easy but no one saw a beautiful woman as someone who could kill you, but then again, that was usually the same people who called her sweetheart when passing her in the street. The very same people who would never be able to harass another woman after her. Y/n cut down any man that would hinder her fellow woman. Women too, if she viewed them as a threat. She was completely innocuous. She looked like every washerwoman in Birmingham. No one ever thought she was the one who was slowly taking out Peaky Blinders one by one. 

No one saw her go in and no one saw her leave. It was easy for her. Men were becoming easier and easier for her to manipulate. Really, this is truly why she was bisexual. Women were truly better but sometimes she would find that one man who saw her. Saw her for what she was. A soldier who didn't know how to stop what she was doing. She had gotten so good at it that every time that she wanted to stop, another high paying aristocrat or politician would waltz in and give her a stack of cash to do away with their competition and she knew that her rent was due so just had to keep going. She was also supporting her family, all the family she had left after the war. She had grown up with brothers and most had gone to war and come back changed. There was nothing she could do about it. She just had to keep her head held up high and persevere, and persevere she did. She began to get very good at petty crimes, and more importantly getting away with them. Another thing she got good at was blending into the background. Become a nobody. Someone that people could easily see through. An excellent cover for an assassin.

There was another part of her that wanted recognition. Y/N wanted that fame and fortune. Nothing that she could have. Women had to work twice as hard in this world. Especially in the business of murder. Then again, those feminist rallies kept yelling about fucking over the patriarchy, why not instead, poison the patriarchy? Slowly? Maybe in the night? Maybe a little murder could do the feminist cause some good. She seemed to know every woman in this tiny town. She really didn’t but it was quite fun to see the men worry that all the pretty women they felt up would disappear. No one knew she existed and everyone knew her name. She barely knew how everyone knew her name. Maybe she did have a bit of that fame and fortune business. She just hoped that it would lead to women feeling a little safer to walk the streets, knowing that they had a silent protector who was not against a little homicide in the name of female comradery. It always feels a little warmer when you know you have a friend protecting you with a knife in the back of her skirt. It was never outright said but it was only men that saw through her. Women knew she was there. This is why she never took jobs that meant hurting or killing women. If it was a husband, she would leave the money for the widow. She was not going to be an asshole about it. No matter what, she would make sure that no woman would go without help. 

She had no qualms about killing men. As much as she loved men, especially tall, dark, and handsome men, they can be a real pain to deal with sometimes. She tried to stay civil but really, how can straight women deal with them all the time? How do they not realize that the best part about married men are their wives?! And god, did the Shelby boys have the best pick of the women! God the women that hung around the Shelby betting shop were proper fit. Or maybe that’s just what drunk men said about them. 

Tonight was special. It would be the death date of Thomas Shelby. The people who had paid her to poison him and make it look like a suicide. The only thing was that he was at a gala. 

Great. 

Using some of her extra earnings and her pay from doing laundry, she bought herself a tight fitting dress and some sparkling jewelry. She stood in front of her mirror and surveyed her body. She wasn’t well endowed at all, really she was the most average looking woman in the country, but not tonight. Tonight she would be the prettiest girl in the room. Tonight she would kill two birds with one stone. She would wreck Thomas Shelby’s public image and she would actually kill the devil. Her. She would be the one to kill the Devil of Small Heath. Oh what joy it would be to sit back and watch the Peaky Blinders scuttle around like sewer rats after their god and king died. They would never know who killed him, well, they would think they knew. She would make it look like a suicide but really, that was easy to stage. She would cry along with everyone else and wipe her tears with the cash she would receive after this job was done.

Stepping out of the car, making sure her dress wasn’t flashing anyone, she made her way up the stairs to the Shelby charity gala. Her dress was short and her faux fur shawl was draped around her shoulders precisely so that she would get all the right looks. She had studied men for too long without knowing what they looked for. Sauntering onto the floor, looking for the guest of honor, her trained ears could pick up the hushed chatter. Everyone here thought she was a prostitute. Figures. A woman dresses the way she wants and people call her a whore. Maybe it's for the better. It would ruin his reputation even more. Be here and be seen talking with a woman who people gossiped was a prostitute? Perfection. She hadn’t even planned this bit.

Finding him was the easy part. Talking was harder. He was surrounded by donors and grifters trying to weedle their way into his pocket. He just hadn’t noticed her yet. She perched herself on the edge of a stool at the bar and ordered what she usually liked to drink on the job. A daiquiri. Easy and plain. Continuing to accentuate her inconsequentiality. She wrapped her crimson covered lips around the rim slowly, watching him circle the room and finally alighting his eyes on her. She turned on her bedroom eyes and ripped more of her drink as she crossed her legs. She was trying to go for ‘come over and see if I’ll take a chance on you’ but really, it was more like ‘come over here and I’ll ruin you before you can finish whatever drink you order to look more casual’. This had worked plenty of times before so she was fairly sure it would work on him. At his core, Thomas Shelby was still a man. A man with a cock. A cock that needed a lot more than a regular man, or so Lizzie Stark told her. She loved Lizzie. Whenever Thomas was done with her, Y/N would always offer her a place to stay and open arms for her to settle in. Stroking through her hair was somehow calming to both of them at the same time.

The room seemed to heat up as he got closer. It really was a toss up if he would guess what she was really here for. Tensing up, she could feel him behind her. Shifting her hair so that it cascaded down her shoulder wasn’t a huge issue but it did wonders for her confidence. Her breath got shallower but gathering all of her courage, her foot spun her barstool to face the looming figure of Thomas Shelby.

“What are you ‘ere for, eh?” The head Shelby took a drag from his cigarette. Giving Y/n a once over, he chuckled. She obviously wasn’t a prostitute but really, he wanted to see what her game was. He was not about to impede a fellow business person while they are trying to do business. She tried to compose herself, tried to keep herself from falling into the endless pools that were his eyes. Endless pools that would ultimately drag her down and bring her to ruin before she could drive her knife into his chest and put an end to the whole ordeal. She could do it right now. She could see the blood seep out of him and see that look of pain that she so dearly needed to see from him. That look of pain that would be payment for all the harm he and his family had caused. She pondered whether or not she should actually fuck him here and now or fake wanting to and kill him just to get it over with. All this nasty business, gross man blood getting on this amazing dress. 

“Here on business Mr. Shelby. Lizzie Stark gives her regards.” She would apologize to Lizzie later. Dear, dear Lizzie. Hopefully she would forgive Y/n for this later. She swung her legs around and walked closer to him, dragging a single hand down his chest. The easiest part of her job was having sex. She constantly thought about herself as a female protagonist written by a man made the process a little easier. Molding herself to the wants of the man. 

She just wanted to hide away from the world but right now she was on the clock. Laying the charm on heavy and batting her eyelashes. His heart was beating faster and faster. This was getting easier and easier. Now she was divided. It was taking too long. The longer it took, the more attached she got. This is one target she didn't want to get attached to.

“Just because you look fuckin’ gorgeous, doesn’t mean you can just-” She gently plucked the cigarette from his pink lips and took a drag herself. Under her other hand, his pulse raced faster. She beamed at him. This time, she was actually feeling some semblance of happiness. Taking a small step forward, she got as close as she could so the smoke, ebbing and flowing from the smoldering edge of the cigarette, would be the barrier between them. She felt a strong hand at her waist, the hand away from the crowd, so the interaction would still look inconspicuous. 

The cigarette hung her from her dark painted lips. They stood an inch away from each other. Each one wanted the other to move first. In his mind, he dreamed of slick thighs, breathy moans, painted breasts, fucked-out expressions, and those perfect gummy walls hugging his cock so well as she screamed in pleasure. In her mind, she dreamed of a perfectly executed mission…and nothing else. Definitely not his perfect jaw and how strong his hands felt at her waist. Definitely the way he was looking at her. Well, at least that meant she was doing what she did best correctly, but still…there was some part of her that had that morbid curiosity. Lizzie had told her what Tommy was like. Rough but loving. Rough enough to satiate himself but since he had taken all this effort to bring you here, he would not snap you in half. Maybe she could do that for one night. That would make a good story. ‘I spent the night with Thomas Shelby and survived’. Definitely something Lizzie would find funny.

Her mind just kept going back and forth in the span of a minute. Does she give in to her curiosity and see what the Devil of Small Heath would do to her or does she put on even more of a show just to ruin his reputation and then pull him outside to finish him off quietly. ‘Pun very much not intended.’ Truly, this was the worst situation to be punny. 

To try to keep her mind on the man in front of her, her eyes just kept alighting on his sturdy looking chest. There was something strangely mysterious about what lay under that perfectly pressed tux. Just to be able to slowly pull every layer off of him was tantalizing. Maybe she might. 

All of this took place in two minutes. They had gotten impossibly closer. His hands had started to slide down, slowly and even slower as she played with the edge of his tie. Oh how much fun it would be to pull him by his impeccable tie, just for him to land on top of her. This could be very fun.

His thoughts were undressing her, meticulously feeling every curve and every fold, kneading anywhere he could elicit a reaction, kissing, biting, anything she wanted. Feeling her under him. Hearing all those pretty noises as he devoured her completely. He knew that all she wanted to do was destroy his reputation but really? What’s so bad about having a little bit of fun? No one could comment because no one messed with the King. 

No one.

They were forcibly shoved together at the hip. His grip was harsh and she was grinning. Sliding the cigarette behind her ear, she gently, temptingly, tantalizingly brushed her plump lips against the edge of his jaw, leaving trace amounts of her lipstick and perfume with it. Giving him one more flash of her sultry eyes and ghosting her hand against his face, ever so delicately holding his jaw, she grabbed her clutch and escaped expertly from his grasp. But not slipping her number into his jacket pocket so he knew where to find her. This was a different kind of mission now. A longer game. A game where she would move up the ranks. Infiltrating the Shelby operation at every level. Finding out their secrets. Knowing what shouldn't be known. She’d make a pretty pound for what she would know. 

Of course, there was that added bonus. Now she had her snares in the most powerful man in Birmingham. Now she could manipulate him as she liked. She would make him fall for her completely. Make him promise her the world. Make him believe that she was what she told him. See her as she wanted him to see her. Control his judgment if someone decided to try to sow seeds of doubt into her darling. Making sure that when she was finally ready to stick the gilded knife in his back, that he would smile and tell her that he loved her one last time. Till next time Mr. Shelby, until next time.

——————————————-

thank you for reading (and if you reblogged/commented, double thanks) !!

@birminghamshelbyboys @pinguwrites @forgottenpeakywriter @hanawrites404 @runnning-outof-time @no-fooking-fighting @no-1peakyfan @hllywdwhre @floralcyanide @cilldistilled @stridingseer @darlingsfandom @mrkdvidal1989 @lunavelha @aphroditeslover11 @henrywintersdearestgirl @thatwitchybitch420 @classicsandfantasy @marilynmonroefanfics @ninja-potato-shelby-solomons @scorpinelle @chellyrps @maxwell-demon @atrwriting @cassius-casim @your-nanas-house @sherwoodknights @munstysmind

#thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x imagine #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #cillian murphy #cillian muphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #cillian #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinder headcanon

[syrupfog]

Law thinks he has it figured out. 

That scrawny kid who just wandered into the university’s yearly flu vaccine clinic Law was manning and just DECIDED that Law was his new best friend— Luffy, he said his name was. Monkey D. Luffy, as if anyone could take that name seriously.

Law thinks he’s figured it out, though. How Luffy CHOOSES the people he does, and adds them to his group. 

(not that Law is IN his group, absolutely not). 

Sanji’s the most obvious one. He’s INCREDIBLY useful, no one could deny that. He cooks obscene amounts of food for everyone.

Nami, too, feels like a given. She has CONNECTIONS, knows how to use them, keeps records and receipts and organizes all the parties that Luffy spontaneously seems to decide on. She’s the brains. 

Zoro Law struggled with at first, the man seems to just think about swords—

but seeing them out in public, Law realizes he’s like a human guard dog, leering over Luffy’s shoulder at anyone who disagrees. Chopper seems a little young— is the kid even in undergrad?— but he’s first aid trained and Law’s seen him put it to use on numerous occasions already.

Now Nico Robin— how on EARTH Luffy managed to make friends with the youngest tenured professor GLU has ever had is beyond Law, but she has connections in academia the way Nami does on the streets. Law would bet money that Robin’s the only reason Luffy is still enrolled.

Usopp’s an odd one, but he’s… well, funny might not be exactly the right word. Entertaining. And more importantly can fix anyone’s computer or phone within an hour. He adds weird features when he does, but his work is solid.

Franky is a GIVEN, he’s the one with the converted old double decker bus — Law didn’t think they even HAD those here — and auto garage. Luffy says the word and he’ll fix anyone’s car free of charge. It’s ridiculous what Luffy can get people to do.

Brook is also obvious. Most famous musician this side of the East Blue, how on EARTH did Luffy meet him? Regardless, the man’s surely a millionaire slumming it with the rest of them for the chance to play what he wants to play and be appreciated for it

Jinbei was confusing until Law learned how they met — that protest that Luffy (along with half his crew) were arrested at last semester. Professor Emeritus in the law department, he was once famous for organizing protests around campus, and eagerly bailed them all out.

So, Law’s figured it out. As much as Luffy SEEMS like a carefree brainless soul, he’s been strategic from the very first step, surrounding himself with everyone he needs to stay on top. He’s incredibly devious, honestly, Law’s almost intimidated.

He also knows that this means he doesn’t have a place among them. 

As much as he’s always planned on being a surgeon, things just don’t work out sometimes. Like when your adopted uncle frames your adopted father for tax fraud and make it look like HE’S a millionaire—

Meaning you suddenly end up with a dad in jail AND getting rejected for FAFSA. No money, no loans, one single scholarship that Law’s about to be dropped from. Sorry Luffy, you’re going to have to find a surgeon somewhere else. Chopper will be good enough, surely.

He tries to separate himself from Luffy, but that’s easier said than done, as Luffy sticks to him like glue when they’re in the same place. The man’s incorrigible, impossible, guileless, brazen… 

Law ends up yelling at him in the middle of a party thrown at Jinbei’s house.

Shouts that he’s dropping out, failing, not going to live up to whatever role Luffy’s recruited him to fill. Tells him to find another surgeon, they’re a dime a dozen on med campus anyway. Storms out before he does something dumb like tear up.

Oddly enough it’s Usopp who follows him. 

He sits down next to Law, looking stiff and uncomfortable, and declares that he “knows what Law’s going through”, which feels, well, patently untrue. 

“I did this like a year ago,” Usopp says. “Tried to tell him to drop me.”

They’re sitting on the curb. Law scrunches grass between his fingers and stares at the road. 

“I had a car,” Usopp says. “She was BEAUTIFUL. Best car you’ve ever seen. Two hundred miles to the gallon and ran on French fry grease.” 

Ah, this is one of those stories.

Usopp deflates. “Then she died,” he says. “We’d just met Franky and he told me she was beyond repair. Then he offered up that bus he has, replacing her before she was even in the ground yet! And like, I’m not going to say he was replacing ME, but like—“

Law nods. 

“It’s not like I had a lot going for me anyway,” Usopp says. “Not compared to Nami or Sanji or Chopper. I thought I was just lucky Luffy found me early, when his standards were lower.” He laughs, but there’s no joy behind it.

“Anyway,” he picks at the laces of his shoes. “That car’s at the bottom of a lake now, may she rest in peace. And after I tried to pull what you just pulled, Luffy really fucking let me have it.” He ducks his head. “Told me I was being fucking stupid, and he was right.”

He glances up at the sky and Law watches, a queasy feeling in the base of his stomach. 

“Turns out,” Usopp says after a long pause, “Luffy really does just choose people he likes.” He sighs. “You’re just lucky, actually, because I don’t think he’s liked anyone as much as you.”

Law grimaces. He doesn’t FEEL lucky. 

Usopp, taking his queue, stands up. “The sooner you admit what you’re dealing with, though, the more he’s able to help.” 

Then he leaves Law alone. 

And Law… finds he doesn’t want to BE alone.

He slinks back into the party maybe twenty minutes later. It’s chill. Brook is taking song requests. Sanji is handing out grilled halloumi. 

Luffy immediately walks up to him. “Why didn’t you TELL ME,” he asks, indignant. 

“What, that my life is a mess?”

“Everyone’s life is a mess, silly,” Luffy says. “But we can HELP, duh.” 

“I think even YOU can’t keep me from getting kicked out of GLU,” Law says. 

“No,” Luffy agrees. “But HE can.” 

He points to Jinbei, sitting at an old yellowed desktop computer in the corner.

“I have friends in the law department who haven’t retired yet,” Jinbei says. He has small spectacles perched on his nose. “They know people. Sending a few emails now.” 

Chopper walks up to the two of them, looking shy. “I can help you study,” he says. “N-not that you need it!”

Nico Robin comes over, cocktails in each hand, pushing one of them into his. “Student services is accommodating,” she says. “If you know who to ask.” 

“YOW!” Shouts Franky from the couch. “And I just hacked their system and changed your grades!” 

Law chokes on his drink.

“SEE?” Luffy huffs, crossing his arms. “It’s FINE. You freaked out for nothing!” 

Law squints at him. “And if it’s not fine, Luffy-ya? If none of this helps and I still fail out of school?” 

Luffy purses his lips. “Duh, then you can just come live with me.“

He looks incredibly petulant. “It’s not like I like you BECAUSE you’re a surgeon. I like you because I asked for two of every shot and you said I’d have to choose a fake name instead of telling me no!” 

Ah. He did do that, didn’t he.

“And anyway, *i* don’t have a degree and I’m fine!” 

“You’re GETTING one,” Law points out. 

Luffy looks at him like he’s lost it. “I attend classes because they’re fun,” he says. “I don’t even have a high school degree, I don’t care about that stuff.” 

…huh.

“Now come on,” Luffy says, wrapping small boney fingers around Law’s wrist. Zoro’s going to play snooker with me and I need you to watch to make sure he doesn’t cheat, because I don’t know the rules.” 

And Law follows him. 

And follows him. 

And follows him.

And when he starts his next semester with his dad out of jail because Jinbei’s connections are honestly a little scary, and when he doesn’t sleep for three days in a row during finals week, and when he gets into the exact fellowship he wants, working under Marco himself—

Law follows Luffy. 

Because nothing else makes sense. 

Law hasn’t figured Luffy out at all But he’s figured everyone else out. Understands the magnetism they’re all drawn to. 

And when he falls into bed with Luffy at the end of long days and weeks, He knows he’s the lucky one.

#lulaw #lawlu #my writing

[astronicht]

Heya, long time tolkien fan with almost no knowledge about old english writings whatsoever here.

Could you explain what the Iron House Motif is? Saw you mentioning it in one of your posts, tried to google it, found pretty much nothing?

I mean i can kinda see what you mean about that but if you have an explanation or any examples that would be great!

Also, i love reading your lotr posts, they add so much stuff and background knowledge :)

A few people asked this regarding this silly post, and yeah it appears "iron house motif" is not a super googleable concept (i ran into it in an academic publication from 1993). Fortunately @pethaucwiar has described what it is, better than I could!

To this I'd add two things, which is that it's also pretty common in Old Norse sagas, and that iirc it sometimes also includes a house literally made of iron, so instead of burning down around your enemies, you also have the option of sticking them in a giant forge and then closing the door. This will be important later. Though honestly, you can stop here, the rest is extras.

Regarding Eowyn, there are famous variants where a woman burns her husband/enemies in a hall for revenge, in an act of self-destruction. (So-- I know she doesn't! But you see a hall, you see a woman, you get told to leave your weapons--)

The problem is, the scene I was joking about in LOTR is very much set in Rohan, and any scene in Rohan is hitting you over the head repeatedly, yelling EVERYONE HERE IS SPEAKING OLD ENGLISH. WE ARE IN AN OLD ENGLISH STORY. And the iron house motif doesn't come up much in Old English. In fact, the general fan assumption seems to be that the hall of Rohan is supposed to mimic Heorot, the hall in Beowulf (Beowulf being, famously, a story in Old English involving a big pretty hall with a king who needs an outside hero's aid; pretty clear-cut) -- over here someone argued persuasively on the same post that it's supposed to be a 1:1 comparison, and thus doesn't suggest any burning halls or iron halls etc.

A little on that! First off, Tolkien braids together his storyworlds constantly, so I'm never going to be sure that he's not going to turn a Beowulf-y hall into a burning revenge hall. But even if you read Rohan's hall as strictly 1:1 Beowulf's hall, approaching it is still kinda a stressful moment. Especially bc Beowulf is actually a really really weird example of Old English stories, where revenge hall burning feels closer than in any other OE text. For lots of reasons! None of its stories are set where people spoke Old English -- they’re set on the Continent and In The Past, purposefully referring to Germanic and Scandinavian storyworlds (where people like Eowyn, lacking any other agency, might burn down everyone). Heorot is not a normal hall, either, bc most importantly for the defense of my earlier shitpost, Beowulf's hall is literally an iron house:

"but it was fastened within and without with iron bands, smithed with crafty thoughts."

(Rutgers transl. I was not joking about it being annoying to translate; unless forced I do not translate Beowulf)

Ac he þæs fæste wæs innan ond utan iren-bendum searo-þoncum besmiþod" (lines 773-4)

So that was the joke! And those iron-bands in the walls are actually being used to keep the monster in the hall so Beowulf could fight it. (Picture wattle-and-daub, but woven with iron rods instead of reeds. This was NOT a real thing archeologically)

Basically: even if Rohan's hall is Beowulf's Heorot, it can still be a medievalist horror film moment where you scream DON'T GO IN THERE if you try hard and love the game. But truly, it was just a silly little post at the expense of CS Lewis.

#astro lotr #yet another five paragraph explanation of my own shitposts sorry for being like this!!!! #ask replies #much more than five paragraphs….

[cherry1sblog]

PART 2

PAIRING: Lee heeseung × fem!reader . a

GENRES:smut, fluff, bullying, alcohol,party,unprotect ed sex (rember to wrap your Willy so the out come won't be silly

WARNINGS there is bullying in this heeseung is basically a dick to y/n and nothing in this story is real!!! This is fan fiction and the way I write about heeseung is not the way I portray him as he's a person himself this is simply for entertainment only !!

SUMMARY:heeseung had always bullied you through your 3 years of Highschool but never let anyone touch you other then him and if he found out someone did that was the end of it you were basically marked as his toy that's until the summer of your junior year you had enough you were done with him always making fun of you and you hated the fact that after all he did I to you you still adored him and liked him but it dosent matter cause you wanted to leave your senior year with a banger so you were no longer your nerdy self still smart asf obvi but appearance wise different you got contacts new clothes thank god you guys didn't have a dress code and most importantly you spent all summer learning how to do your makeup..

RECAP….

y/n and sunghoon on the couch asleep "holy shit heeseung hyung is not gonna be happy" jungwon picked you up and ran with you on his back you being confused when jungwon locked his door and threw you on the bed *WHAT TH-

" jungwon covers your mouth muffling your yelling until you stoped "shut the fuck up unless you want to make heeseung hyung and sunghoon hyung hate eachother more right now " honestly you couldn't give a fuck less and if this made heeseung miserable then you had every reason not to care " why should I care on fact I actually don't mind going back ou " jungwon grabed your hand pinning you on the wall wtf is it with everyone pinning you on the wall " look I know heeseung hyung did fucked up shit and I know it's fucked up we didn't do anything but we all grow from our mistakes and plus now your like hot so please just shut the fuck up and well stay in here

————————————————————-

/the next day after all that//

You got home after sometime of being stuck with jungwon you were honestly so feed up with everthing at that point but being stuck with jungwon wasn’t too bad you got to knwo him actually as a person and the way he talked about heeseung made you actually see there is a diffrent side to heeseung getting lost in your thoughts you didn’t know that chu was talking to you “oh sorry chu I just have a lot on my mind rn” she looked at you with a smirk confused you looked at her “I bet you are having a lot on you mind scince you slept with Sunghoon “ afraid someone would hear you covers her mouth “chu first of all we did not sleep together second of all please don’t say that” you wind to her “okay oaky I’m sorry “ she wisperd “ but if you guys didn’t fuck what did you do “ obviously her not buying it “well I mean we actually just watched a movie “ chu was in disbelief “you telling me you spent that night at his house and didn’t fuck!” “Omg shut up chu “everyone now staring at you and her apologizing “speak of the devil” you turned around confused at chu it was heeseung jake and sunoo sunoo smiled happyily at you giving you a hug sunoo was normally like this even when people were rude to you he made really nice gestures making you at least happy one person back then didn’t totally hate you “hi y/nnieeee” avoiding heeseungs contact a bit embarrassed from What hapoend the last time you guys spoke “didn’t know you had a nickname other than doll y/n “ sunoo smacked his shoulder “cmon now hyung don’t be a dick”sunoo said defending you “what ever “ heeseung said walking away sunoo being left behind “oh btw y/n I was wondering if I could get your help with something “ nodding at him curios to what he could need your help with “I know you and heeseung aren’t best of buds but cause you help me plan his birthday par-“ you stopped him “hell no sunoo” “why not th-“ you get it that sunoos action didn’t mean to hurt you but why would you do anything to help him “please y/nnie “ sunoo made it so hard to say no “your lucky your pretty “ sunoo smiled happily “okay well I’m his party is next week and all of the boys are pitching in and I need your help with decorations “ nodding but you didn’t want heeseung to know you helped cause that would cause problems “sunoo just don’t tell heeseung I’m helping you plan this “ nodding and not questiong you “oh and chu would you mind going with Jake the day of to get drinks “ you could see chus eyes light up in mention of jake “ofc!” Sunoo thanked you guys and had left

//2 days later//

“Okay sunoo so we have all the Ballons ordered and the banners nikis and jungwon and gonna pick up the cakes Sunghoon sunoo getting all the food so we’re set “ being so tired staying up late at night to plan more things for heeseungs party even tho as much as you hated him you still put a lot of time in this for no reason you couldn’t exactly pin point why you were putting so much thought in it being worried he wouldn’t be happy with it…. anyways back to sunoo “yes everything looks perfect !” Being happy everything was set in place for Saturday “wait y/n have you chosen your outfit yet “ omg after picking out everything and setting it all up for heeseungs party you completely forgot to buy and outfit with only 1 day left before the party “oh shit” sunoo being confused “what’s wrong?omg you didn’t chose one out yet did you” you shook your head “okay well you should have some time tommorw right I can go shopping with you” you thanked that sunoo even reminded you or it would have been so bad “your a life savor sunoo ilysm “

//The next day//

Sunoo arrived at the mall but not alone he came with sunghoon you hadn’t talk scince that day so you too were a bit awkward sunghoon just standing there as sunoo ran up to hug you “sunghoon hyung are you broken” laughing a bit at what sunoo had said “what no” sunghoon being defensive you ended up greeting him by just waving as he waved back “okay!let’s go shopping “

You guys had gon into a dress store to find a dress for the party you wanted somthing simple not to much it still being a little awkward beetween you and sunghoon but you guys lightens the mood by just saying some jokes sunoo had handed you a dress scince you weren’t liking any that you chose and sunoo really had an eye for clothes showing them the white dress sunoo had chosen for you his and sunghoon mouth hanging open “y/n I think you broke sunghoon” you both started laughing as sunghoon was a bit embarrassed but you knew that this was the dress you were gonna chose

//DAY OF PARTTYYYYY//

After you and sunoo had spent all night and the morning of the party decorating at jakes house you finally had to go home and change tha fully the party was supposed to be a Suprise so you didn’t have to worry about heeseung seeing you…”hey y/n “ nudging you head at chu “what up “ she seemed like she was being held back by the question “e-even tho heeseung bullied you and none of his freinds did anything to stop him why are you still nice to them “ you yourself didn’t fully understand but as much as you say you hated heeseung you really well didn’t how could you hate him from the moment you saw him in middle school till now you could never get over his Bambi like eyes and you’ll never forget the first encounter you had with him either heeseung was super nice the first time you had met him he had accidently number into you the first day of 6th grade helping you pick up everything and apologizing but reassuring him that it was okay every year from that money on you guys always had the same class but 6th grade heeseung was much diffrent then heeseung now “I’m not really sure chu but I know that I don’t hate them and I can’t really blame the boys either at times they would tell heeseung he was doing to much or that it was enough and I thanked them for that it was never there fault “ nodding chus head understating you now and feeling simpathy for you “but chu that’s not important right now cause we’re gonna go party!”

//at the party //

Beomgyu had driven all of you to the party you walked in thrue the door and you were so proud of the decorations and that everyone loved them “holy shit y/n “ beomgyu said “I need you to be my party planner cause damn “ giggling you made your way to find the rest of the boys leaving you freind for a bit instead you ran into heeseung you rolled your eyes as he starred at you “cmon doll you can’t be rude to the birthday boy “ he walked closer to you “what ever happy birthday tho ig “ he just nodded surprised you said happy birthday to him at all jake and sunoo seeing you and going up to you and heeseung “y/nnieee!!” You hugged sunoo and Jake “do want a drink y/n? Chu got a pack of beer that you like” you nodded pushing thrue the crowed to go get a drink getting déjà vu as you saw sunghoon agian in the same place as last time “oh hey y/n” Sunghoon seeming a bit tipsy already “hey hoon are you drunk?” He shook his head “no not drunk but what ever you do do not drink jays punch” “noted” you said as you guys laughed he passed you a beer as “are you enjoying the party so far” he asked you saying it to you ear as the music was too loud nodding to him “do you wanna go dance?” You asked him being a flustered but agreeing as you two were dancing you had made eye contact with heeseung but he didn’t look away you were in a trans you didn’t even realize sunghoon was talking to you till you felt him pat hour back “hey are you okay?” He asked a bit concerned “yeah I’m good “you said as you look back to heeseungs spot as he smirked and left with a girl sunghoon noticed and looked in the same direction “don’t worry about heeseung “ he told you “I’m not dont worry” you saw him smile as you to continued dancing

//later in the party//

You saw heeseung with a girl making out you were staring so hard you were sure they’d be able to feel u you “yo y/n “Jake was talking to you now “you seem a bit to munch into heeseung making out with other girls “slaping jake for making that remark as he laughed “shut up Jake “ you rolled your eyes beomgyu laughing at his joke “ you two are so immature “ soobin added “I can’t belive you choosing sides “ “Jake hee not choosing sides he just has a brain” now you were laughing but still going back to heeseung every now n then but this time was different heeseung made eye contact with you and you had gotten flustered going outside on the balcony for some fresh air you were two into you thoughts you didn’t know heeseung standing behind you “you know y/n if you wanted to keep watching you should have tooken a picture “ being scared as he talked in you ear grabbing you wait being flustered at his comment and his gestures “what’s wrong doll you always have so much to say “ you turned around just to be caged into him “heeseung go away “ he tilted his head “why you don’t like this “ he came close to you neck sucking on your skin moving your neck to let him have more access but you knew it was wrong “no I’m not gonna be one of your quick fuckes “ you said as you pushed him back you could tell he was a bit drunk “why cause I’m not sunghoon? Are you now to good for anyone” you were a bit confused on why that even mattered “yk what heeseung you seem a bit drunk so I’m just gonna g-“ he grabed your arm and tugged you back the drink he had placed before down before he had it in his other hand but it got on your dress he himself was a bit upset he had gotten it on you dress and by now you were furios “why do you hate me so much! What have I ever done to you for you to hate me you can’t just fuck with my feelings heeseung” he was taken aback by your question “yk heeseung Even after all the times you hurt me I never hated you but you always hated me and still do I don’t know what I did but I don’t think I even deserve this “ tears coming in your eyes now he could see them even tho it was dark he get bad now “y/n I-“ “no heeseung save it I’m done with you bull shit have a nice night happy fucking birthday lee” and with that you stumbled and ran out the door realizing soobin was the one who had driven you so you had to walk home now.

//back in the party //

Part three will be out quickly I just couldn’t write on this page anymore for some reason tha my oh for waiting !!

#enhypen #enhypen smut #fanfic #cherry1sblogs #kpop smut #sunoo #jungwon #jake sim #sunghoon smut #sunghoon #heeseung smut #lee heeseung #heeseung

[the-last-thread-of-my-sanity]

Losing my mind a little bit rewatching the final episode in dub…

I don’t think anyone talks enough about Annie and Mikasa right after Falco rescues the group.

Firstly, I absolutely love that Annie yells out to Mikasa as they swoop in- like things couldn’t be more dire, Mikasa is giving this badass speech and then Annie is just yells at her that she’s in the way with the same tone you would call out to someone who was blocking you on the sidewalk. Annie is honestly so funny sometimes and we don’t talk about it enough. And the okapi scene with them? Most levity in the entire finale arc in my opinion.

Most importantly to me though, when Levi makes the call that they need to split up and kill Eren and everyone is making their case as to why it hurts but they have to do it (Jean is the only one who apologizes to her, identifying that this is going to hurt her more than anyone else- but that’s a post in of itself) and Annie is the one who is able to prevent Mikasa from spiraling and get her back on track.

How?

Not by reasoning with her, or telling her to toughen up, or any of those heartless or logical things that we might be tempted to associate with Annie. Instead she tells her to focus on rescuing Armin and let the others worry about Eren.

This is interesting coming from Annie for a couple of reasons. Obviously it’s in her best interest to remind the group that Armin still needs rescuing since she cares for him and wants to focus on that herself. But I also think it matters that Annie is able to understand how to reach her. Mikasa wants more than anything to protect the people she loves- she can’t imagine ever harming them. By giving her something else to focus on, Annie is saving her from the hurt of thinking about Eren.

But not only that- Annie has been in her position.

Knowing she could die, that it would cost her the mission, that it was a betrayal of her other comrades (including Marcel who had already died)- knowing all of this, she was unable to kill Armin. On multiple occasions! Even without the bond of growing up with him such as in Mikasa’s case with Eren, the feelings she had for Armin wouldn’t allow her to hurt him.

Annie knows that she can’t possibly ask Mikasa to do something she wasn’t able to do. So she encourages her with a purpose that Annie herself can relate to. Fighting for the family she has left.

And there’s just something so touching and human about Annie’s ability to realize that in such a tense moment, and I don’t think we talk about it enough.

#annie leonhart #mikasa ackerman #eren yeager #jean kirstein #armin arlert #eremika #aruani #aruannie #aot #attack on titan #aot analysis

[mjlovescm]

can we get a clingy rodrick fem reader fic? maybe the reader is trying to get homework done or something? idk you’re a better writer than i💀

Stage five clinger, Rodrick Heffley

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this sorry it took so long. I feel like Rodrick would definitely be clingy, and I'm sure you are an amazing writer. <3

It may be hard to believe, and maybe he only acted this way when he was with you, but Rodrick Heffley was a top tier, stage five clinger. And to be completely honest, it should have been a bit obvious. This was the same boy who spent a very, very long time trying to get his crush to acknowledge him for more than just five seconds. So of course being his girlfriend, this only intensified. By a lot and in many ways. 

But the top three were: 1. Wash day  Before the full extent of Rodrick's clinginess, wash day was a lonely, tiring and highly frustration day. But with your own personal helper, things were definitely a lot easier. Having him run to the store real quick if you forgot something, playing video for you on his phone while your hands were greasy, and even helping you make even parts. 

“You know I can help you with more than just parting.” Rodrick yells over the shower. 

“You should be lucky I'm letting you in here to begin with.” 

You yell back, referring to the fact that he was sitting in the bathroom while you were in the literal shower. 

“Whatever.” He mumbles under his breath.

2. Homework  In the same way that his clinginess could be helpful, it was often not. Although you agreed with him on his point of homework being useless and annoying, you still had to get it done. And the best way to do that while being in the same vicinity as Rodrick was to ignore him. But with his sneaky nature, Rodrick would also find a way to have you in his arm doing something actually fun rather than stupid homework.

“Could you just be serious for like five minutes.”

You told Rodrick and was met with an utterly appalled face. One which you ignore and go back to trying to do your homework.

“I am being serious, I read it somewhere.”

“By “read it somewhere.” do you mean saw it on YouTube.”

“No.” He's quick to respond. “I saw it on Instagram.” Rodrick smiles because technically you were wrong. “Look it up, it's the most effective way to get things done. Study for thirty minutes, then relax for thirty.”

Still ignoring him, all you did was roll your eyes and try to focus on the work in front of you. Plus, the method was to study for twenty-five and have a five-minute break. A great method, sure, but clearly not what Rodrick was suggesting.

…

Leaving the bathroom, you walked back into Rodrick's room to find your homework textbook and pencils gone. And across the room was an overly casual Rodrick whose TV just happened to be playing your favorite movie. Without a word, you walked over to him, faces contradictory to each other. In fact, the smile that played on Rodrick's lips was burning a frown onto yours. Deciding not to play his game and, more importantly, not give in, you simply turned around to look for your things that had magically gone missing.

Before you realized what was happening, you were already sitting. The same hands he used to get you there now wrapped around your hips, keeping you in place. 

“You don't think this is a bit much?” You asked him genuinely. 

“I think.” He starts, and you can already tell where he's going, “That you need a break.” 

Rodrick peaks his head over your shoulder for a moment, that cocky smile still on his lips. Before it disappears into the crook of your neck. 

“Come on.” He whispers against your skin. “Well, only watch like five minutes.” 

Reluctant and knowing that it was a lie, you still agreed. Quickly getting comfortable and settling into your favorite seat, Rodrick's lap. 

3. Accidental sleepovers This one you could admit was partially your fault. I mean, if you really didn't want to stay you could just leave, but sometimes Rodrick was just too hard to resist. 

“We have school tomorrow.” You groan, sleepiness already creeping into your voice. 

“Yea, that's why you should stay.” He told his voice sleepier than yours. “Plus, I already drive you every morning.”

He was right, the van had been your go-to method of transport for a while now. 

“Yea but-” You tried to think of an excuse but nothing came to your half asleep mind. “I think I'd like to sleep in my own bed.” 

You told Rodrick, which triggered him to move him body more onto your chest, his way of trapping you. He shushes you before bringing his lips to your skin. Pressing gentle, slow kisses to your neck and jaw. 

“Tomorrow we can sleep wherever you want.” He whispered. 

“Fine.” You say, as snuggling into him. “But just because you're warm.” 

Masterlist

#rodrick x reader #black fem reader #mjlovescm #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick heffley

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

The Question of Debt

Hi! I've read a few Merlin fics recently where Arthur finds out that Merlin hasn't been paid what he should, if at all, 'cause no-one ever trained him or told him anything about his job. I'd love to see your take on this if you want to write it? With lots of Merlin & knights friendship too. Thank yooou <3 – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: merthur

Word Count: 4232

Look, alright, Arthur does try to give Merlin the benefit of the doubt, but when he walks into his room to see him immediately stand up straight, hide something behind his back, and that something is jingling, what exactly is he supposed to do? Well, if Merlin is to be believed, state his business and leave Merlin to his. But when a pouch of coin leads to a confrontation that reaches far beyond their normal spats, Arthur starts to uncover something very troubling about Merlin's time in Camelot.

Look, alright, Arthur does try to give Merlin the benefit of the doubt, but when he walks into his room to see him immediately stand up straight, hide something behind his back, and that something is jingling, what exactly is he supposed to do?

Well, if Merlin is to be believed, state his business and leave Merlin to his.

”Oh, and you’re King of Camelot now?”

“No.”

“Then what makes you think you can give me orders?”

”That wasn’t an order. It was a suggestion. One you asked for, by the way.”

“Merlin.”

Merlin just grins that stupid little grin that makes the tips of his ears stick out a bit more and Arthur is not being distracted by it, thank you very much. “Did you need something?”

“You’re late. Am I supposed to dress myself?”

”You’d be amazed what most young children are capable of, sire, most of them can actually dress themselves by the time they’re four or five.”

“Merlin!”

“Look, I’m just saying that it’s not a bother if we need to go over it again—“

Arthur picks up a pillow and smacks Merlin on the arm, which makes him laugh, yes, but more importantly it makes him let go of the coin purse he’s holding behind his back. It hits the floor with a clunk. They both look at it. Merlin scrabbles over the bed but Arthur’s faster and snatches it up.

“Hey! Give that back!”

He fends Merlin off with one hand, peeking inside. It’s hardly anything, really. “What is this, your tavern fund?”

“Give it back.”

”Is there something you’re saving up for? A pretty new tunic, perhaps, or one of those reck scarves you’re always wearing?”

“Arthur—“

“Or is this what you’re doing with—“

Whatever he was going to say is knocked out of him when Merlin slams into his side, hard enough to send him stumbling into the wall. His mouth opens in a wordless yell, righting himself and preparing to chew Merlin out because that could’ve hurt, you idiot, what were you thinking—

—and stops when he sees Merlin glaring at him.

Not the play-scowling they do when they’re bantering back and forth, but actually glowering at him like he’s made him angry. It’s enough to throw him off long enough for Merlin to shove the pouch into his pocket and storm past him, mumbling something about how they’re late for things already. He’s left there, staring at the painfully thin mattress with the moth-eaten blankets.

That was…strange.

He gives himself a shake. Merlin got like that about things sometimes, it’s probably not anything to worry about.

***

It’s definitely something to worry about.

Merlin’s never so much as breathed a word about what happened in his room that morning, which is concerning in and of itself. Merlin never hesitates to throw their previous arguments back in Arthur’s face if he thinks it’s deserved—and Arthur will be gracious and humble enough to say it is, most of the time—but he won’t even mention it. He doesn’t bring it up even if Arthur gives him the opportunity, he won’t even acknowledge what happened. And every time Arthur tries to talk about coin, or Merlin’s family, or anything that could be even remotely related, Merlin clams up faster than Gwaine when they say there’s no more ale left.

So, Arthur does what any concerned King would do, and snoops.

Gaius won’t say a word about it, and not in the way he normally does where he says he doesn’t know anything but secretly does. No, instead Gaius gets oddly stern with him. At least, as stern as he ever outwardly gets when he’s talking to Arthur. It’s that strange disappointed-not-quite-angry voice that just makes Arthur feel like he’s a boy again. He tries to sneak in there once when Merlin and Gaius are out collecting pots and nearly gets caught by a patrolling guard and decides that no, he won’t be doing that again.

It has nothing to do with the fact that Merlin and Gaius came back to a cauldron with some sort of potion in it spilled all across the floor. Absolutely not.

Then he goes to ask Gwen. Gwen and Merlin talk about things. Maybe Merlin has talked to Gwen about…whatever that pouch was. But Gwen looks at him with a frown and says that she doesn’t know.

“I’ve never seen him with a pouch like that before. Are you sure it was his? Not someone else’s?”

“He nearly tackled me into the wall over it, that doesn’t sound like something he’d do if it wasn’t his.”

Gwen snorts. “He what?”

“Didn’t work, obviously, he’s not strong enough.”

“Of course not, My King.”

Still, he can hear her snickering as he turns to go.

As a last resort, he turns to the knights.

“I don’t know what that could be,” Elyan says as they take care of their armor after a long day of training, “it’s not like Merlin’s known for hoarding great treasures, he’s not a dragon.”

“Maybe it’s just something of his he wants to keep secret?” Lancelot hangs the training sword back on the wall. “We can hardly begrudge a man his privacy.”

“It was just a small amount of coin. Barely more than a month’s pay.”

“Perhaps he’s sending it to his mother?”

‘“I’ve asked if it’s that, he didn’t answer.”

“Maybe he’s saving it.” They all turn to look at Gwaine. “What?”

”He’s been working here for years, and he’s saved not even a month’s pay?”

“Well, if he’s spending his days in the tavern,” Arthur grumbles and Gwaine laughs. “Are you the one encouraging him then?”

Gwaine laughs again, like Arthur’s made a joke, but when he sees Arthur’s expression, his face falls.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

If Gwaine is hiding something, then this is far bigger than Arthur thought.

He does not follow Gwaine that night, because he is a King and kings do not spy on their knights, but if he happens to be outside Gaius’s chambers that evening when Gwaine and Merlin are also there, then that’s just a coincidence. A very lucky coincidence.

“Arthur told us something after training, you know,” he hears Gwaine say through the cracked door.

A thunk as Merlin sets down something heavy. “What, that he needs his armor polished until you can all see his face in it?”

“That he found you in your room with a pouch of coin.”

The room goes so silent that Arthur starts to fret they’ve vanished into thin air. He holds his breath.

“That’s all he said?”

He winces at how cold Merlin sounds.

“That and he thought you were spending all your money at the tavern.” Merlin laughs at that. It’s a humorless thing. “He doesn’t know, then?”

Know what?

”No,” Merlin says lowly, “he doesn’t. Did you—“

“No one told him,” Gwaine says firmly and Arthur moves as close to the door as he dares, “he thinks I’m the one dragging you there every day.”

Merlin’s sigh of relief is palpable. “Good. That’s alright, then.”

There’s another moment of silence. Then Gwaine shifts and his mail rasps against the table.

“Was it to send to your mother, then? That coin?”

Merlin huffs. “No. That’s all I’ve got.”

“All you’ve got? But Arthur said it was less than a month’s pay, how—“

“A month? What, for him, maybe. That’s all I’ve ever gotten.”

Arthur blinks. And blinks. And blinks again. That can’t be right.

Gwaine seems to agree. “You—aren’t you being paid more because you’re Princess’s manservant?”

“News to me if that’s true.”

Arthur’s heard enough. He moves quickly and quietly back through the halls, sitting down at his desk and folding his hands. The candle snaps and crackles as he stares unseeing into the shadows of his room.

Two things. First, Merlin is not being paid what he should be, clearly. He needs to go and have a word with the steward, find out exactly what Merlin is being paid, how often, and how much he is owed in lost wages.

Second, Merlin is hiding something. Something that at least Gwaine knows, if not the rest of the knights. And it has something to do with the fact that Merlin is not, in fact, at the tavern nearly as much as Arthur thinks he is, if at all.

Sleep comes fitfully that night.

***

”If you glare at that parchment anymore, sire, you’re liable to burn a hole through it.”

Arthur doesn’t care. He’ll set fire to this whole office if he damn well pleases. Especially this rude, blasphemous, audacious piece of paper.

“How did this happen,” he snarls with enough venom to make the steward and even Leon shuffle, “did we not increase all servants to a minimum payment after my coronation?”

“We did, sire.”

“Then explain this.”

“Merlin was not chosen by you initially,” the steward says, voice remarkably even as Arthur glares at him, “he was appointed by your late father.”

“So?”

“So,” Leon continues, “the King’s appointments exist outside the normal agreements for servants. They have their own terms and conditions, including modified pay rates.”

”Show me.”

The steward gets up and goes to a chest of drawers, opening one and rifling through it. He produces a single sheaf of paper and carries it back over to the desk, adjusting his glasses.

“Here, sire, if you would?”

Arthur does not snatch it, because he is a King and kings do not snatch, and the paper was certainly already torn when it found its way into his grip.

Not for the first time, he wishes his father were somewhere he could talk to him, so he could shout about the man’s hypocrisy for serving the people when he would give them a barely-livable wage and call it fair.

“What is a King’s manservant supposed to be paid?” The steward slides another sheet of paper towards him. “Good. Change it to that right now.”

“Right away, sire.”

“And give him what he should’ve been paid before.”

“How much?”

“As much as he’s owed,” Arthur growls.

“We would only be able to excuse that if we went back as far as your coronation, which would be—“

”Fine, fine. Whatever makes it so you give the man what he’s owed.”

The steward looks far too pleased to carry out the order, which just gives Arthur more motivation to shout at Uther, but he pushes that down because he is a King, now, and kings do not scream at people who do not deserve it, if they scream at all.

“Will there be anything else, sire?”

“Not at this time. Thank you.”

”My pleasure, sire, as always.”

Arthur nods and turns to leave, striding down the hall with Leon at his side. The man is as inscrutable as always, not offering any condemnation or encouragement as Arthur mutters to himself.

“Didn’t so much as say anything, idiot, barely a livable wage for someone in the poorest part of the city, honestly…”

Leon doesn’t say a word until they reach Arthur’s chambers. “If I might?”

“Please, old friend, come in.” Arthur all but collapses into a chair and buries his face in his hands. “I don’t—why didn’t he tell me?”

”Merlin is a private person. It’s likely he preferred not to discuss such things, especially with you.”

Arthur peeks out between his fingers. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Aside from the fact that you’re his employer, the two of you don’t exactly have the…typical relationship between a king and his servant.”

Arthur huffs. “Which is why I thought he’d tell me.”

“Perhaps.”

“I know that tone of voice, or perhaps what?”

“Or perhaps Merlin didn’t know that something was amiss.”

Now Arthur does sit up, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“As the steward said: you did not choose Merlin upon his original appointment. He saved your life and the then King had him assigned to you. He was not trained to be a servant, much less the Crown Prince’s manservant. I seem to remember many complaints when he was first starting?”

“But that’s—but he did get training.”

“Only after he began working for you, and only from other servants who were not experienced with being your servant. The exception to this would be Gwen, but—“

“But I’m not Morgana.”

“Quite.”

Arthur slumps against the back of his chair. The worst part is that it makes a disturbing amount of sense: Merlin fought against him on how he was treated, how Arthur treated most servants, but not about the coin. Because he knew that people deserved to be treated better than that, but he didn’t know anything about how servants were supposed to be paid. And how could he? He wasn’t a servant—he came from a relatively poor village, how could he know? And so when he was asked by the steward originally—and probably with Uther ushering the process along as quickly as possible, he hadn’t known that he could ask for a better wage.

“Damn,” he mutters. Leon hums. “Damn.”

“You have a council meeting in a few hours, sire. The new allocation of funds is likely to be discussed.”

“Wonderful.” Leon chuckles at his tone. “Will you be there?”

“Of course, sire.”

As he goes, Arthur moves to his desk and starts writing out some of the formalities that the steward will need to add to the record. It’s mindless enough work that he starts to wonder about that other half of things. His gaze finds the door where Leon had just vanished.

Did Leon know?

It was almost a certainty. If there was one person Arthur could rely on to know almost everything that happened in Camelot, it was Leon. Something about the man’s quiet nature made him the ideal confidant, not just for the upper echelons but the lower as well. He swears Leon could put together a list of everything he had ever been told in confidence and it would run the length of the city.

So Leon knew, most likely. And with that came the conclusion that Arthur would never, ever be able to get it out of him.

Gwaine was probably the easier bet, but Gwaine isn’t about to come to this council meeting.

With that in mind, he quickly finishes the paperwork and sets it aside before Merlin comes sweeping in to make sure he’s ready. They manage to get there early, for once, and take their places before the rest of the lords come in to talk about whatever it is the lords believe is worth discussing.

“And as the last thing,” the steward says as the meeting winds to a close, “is the budget allocation for this next period.”

“I expect everything is the same?”

“With the exception of the compensation fund we discussed earlier, yes, sire, all the same.”

Arthur nods and moves to close the meeting when one of the lords speaks up.

“Pardon the interruption, sire, but…what compensation fund?”

“It has come to my attention that someone in the castle has not been paid what they are due, and so we are compensating them for their lost wages.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Merlin look at him.

“But surely that is not a sum worthy of factoring into the crown’s budget, so…” The lord trails off as he catches sight of said sum over the steward’s shoulder. He stands up with a horrid screech. “Have you gone mad?”

“Your tongue, my lord,” Leon says lowly, stepping forward, “you will address your king with respect.”

“I’ll address him with respect when he’s not spending a mountain of coin on a single person!” The lord tries to snatch the paper but the steward holds firm. “What is the meaning of this?”

“They were not paid the proper amount for several years,” Arthur says calmly, “we are rectifying this.”

“But this—this—this would put the crown in debt!”

“And any proceedings from a legal standpoint would as well. Or would you rather the crown be taken to a formal trial and then forced to pay owed wages?”

Leon steps up to contain the lord’s fury, but Arthur couldn’t care less. Not when Merlin is looking at him with his mouth open and something suspiciously shiny about his eyes.

He risks only a glance at him before he stands and brings the meeting to a close.

***

”That was good of you,” Gwaine says, quiet enough that it’s hidden under the clang and clash of swords on the training field, “making up his pay like that.”

“It’s what he’s owed.”

”Still.” He wipes his blade with a rag. “Never seen a King stick his neck out like that for a servant.”

“It’s Merlin.”

“That it is.” Their shoulders bump. “Still. Good one, mate.”

Arthur just nods. Merlin is across the field, tending to a table of armor that needs to be repaired. He sees Lancelot, Elyan, and Percival each go up to him in turn, talking to him or ruffling his hair. Even Leon glances over from where he’s supervising a group of younger knights and gifts him with a softer smile.

“He looks happier.”

“He does,” Gwaine agrees, stretching out next to him, “he’s sleeping better too.”

Arthur whips around. “How would you know how he’s sleeping?”

“Whoa, easy, Princess,” Gwaine laughs, “not like that. He’s finally bought himself a proper mattress, that’s all. Heard him talking about it with Gaius this morning.”

“Oh.”

Gwaine chuckles. “Don’t worry, none of us would dare.”

“You’d better not.”

“Oh, I like myself intact, thank you very much.” He sniffs. “Not that you’d actually manage to do that much damage.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Gwaine shoves him lightly and they both laugh. It trails off and they go back to watching the men train. At least, ostensibly they’re watching the men train. Really they’re both watching Merlin.

”I wish he’d told me,” Arthur says, almost too quiet to hear. He knows Gwaine does by the way he hums.

They look at each other. Arthur searches his expression for a long moment. Gwaine’s eyebrow twitches.

Tell me, he pleads silently, please, tell me.

Gwaine doesn’t say a word.

With a sigh, Arthur looks back at Merlin. Their eyes meet across the field. Merlin’s brow twitches in a silent you alright? Arthur nods. Merlin grins.

With a grunt, he heaves himself to his feet, readying his sword to go and relieve Percival from his bout with Lancelot, when Gwaine catches his arm.

“Arthur.”

“Yes?”

“Next time you and Merlin go on a hunt, don’t kill anything.”

He frowns, a thousand questions building up on the tip of his tongue, but he nods. Gwaine nods back and loudly goes to make a nuisance of himself.

“Sire,” Elyan says as he approaches, “is everything alright?”

“Fine, fine. Shall we?”

“Ready when you are.”

***

“I still don’t understand why you insist on these hunts,” Merlin grumbles as he shoves something else into a pack, “it’s not like we don’t have food in the castle.”

“Maybe it’s not about the food, Merlin.”

“Oh, so you just want to go kill something. Should’ve guessed.”

He cuffs him lightly upside the head. “Just get the horses ready.”

Merlin grumbles something unflattering about Arthur’s resemblance to his horse as he goes. Gwaine’s words turn over and over in his mind as he packs up the crossbow. He truly isn’t planning on killing anything, but the woods aren’t exactly free of dangers. At the very least, if there are bandits that decide to attack them.

Merlin can say all he wants about not enjoying hunts, but he can’t hide the way his shoulders slump when they leave the walls of the city. He has that terribly earnest and whimsical look on his face as they make it into the woods, the breeze ruffling his hair and the birds calling out from the trees. Arthur has to remind himself to look where his horse is going and not just stare at Merlin the entire time, but Merlin’s not exactly looking at him either, so he can get away with it.

He may have claimed this was a hunt, but Merlin hasn’t seemed to notice that they’re not hunting anything. They pass more than a few obvious deer tracks that Arthur completely ignores and any smaller game like rabbit scatter well before Arthur could so much as reach for the crossbow. Instead, Merlin is in a little world of his own, marveling at the forest like it’s the most splendid thing he’s ever seen.

Arthur supposes he can’t talk, that’s how he’s looking at Merlin.

Eventually, he calls for a break near the river. Merlin just hums and gets off the horse, taking the bit from its mouth so it can graze, and loosening the saddle’s girth. Arthur sets the pack on the ground and rifles through it for their water skins.

“I’m going to fill these up, set up the rest of camp.”

“But we haven’t caught anything yet.”

“No harm in taking a rest, is there? Though if you want to keep going—“

“No, no, rest is good.”

Arthur chuckles as he heads off through the trees, listening to Merlin bustle about behind him. He manages to get down to the river in a few short minutes, holding the water skins under a small waterfall to fill them.

”Hey,” he mutters to himself, “so I’m glad we sorted out the thing with your pay, but now apparently there’s something else I don’t know about. What is it?”

Yeah, like that would work.

“The knights know something about you and I’m worried it’s similar. What is it?”

Also not likely to work.

“I’m worried about you and also quite hopelessly in love. Help.” He scoffs at himself. “I’d have better luck telling my father I want to court a servant.”

He mutters half a dozen more to himself, each worse than the last, before he realizes the sun is going down and he’s been ‘getting water’ for far too long. He drags his feet through the brush as he goes back, still muttering, when he hears something from the direction of their camp. Instinctively, he crouches and reaches for the dagger on his hip.

He peers around a tree and—

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Merlin is sitting in the middle of camp with golden tendrils of magic—it must be magic, it couldn’t possibly be anything else—creating a suspended web of leaves and flowers in a sphere around himself. Butterflies flit around him like he’s some forest nymph. His fingers move and twirl through the air and it responds to him like a living thing. Arthur is speechless.

Merlin has magic.

Merlin had magic.

And it’s beautiful and incredible and so very Merlin and Arthur is done for.

Just as he’s coming to the conclusion of how irrevocably bollocked he is, Merlin turns and sees him.

The yelp he makes is heartbreaking and all the things crash down around him as he scrabbles away. But he goes too fast and ends up flat on his back, staring at Arthur with his eyes so wide he can see the whites all the way around. Arthur quickly decides that this is unacceptable and Merlin is never allowed to be scared like this, and so he raises his hands in a gesture of surrender.

Merlin doesn’t move.

Slowly, so slowly, Arthur starts to make his way across the clearing. Merlin flinches and bites his lip to stifle his whimpers whenever Arthur accidentally snaps a twig or crushes a leaf. It takes an age and Arthur’s shoulders ache by the time he makes it, but then he’s standing over Merlin and he reaches out a hand.

Merlin takes it. He can feel it tremble.

Carefully, he pulls Merlin to his feet. The poor thing still looks so scared and Arthur wracks his brain for something, anything he could say to make this better, let Merlin know he would never, that it’s all going to be alright…

But he’s never been particularly good with words.

Actions, on the other hand…

Telegraphing his movements so Merlin can stop him, he cups the side of Merlin’s face, feeling his jaw tremble. With a courage he does not feel, he leans in.

Merlin makes a surprised noise when he kisses him, but slowly, slowly, he kisses back.

Camelot could go to war, bandits could ambush them, Uther himself could stride into the clearing and Arthur would tell him to wait.

They break apart but dare not separate, still breathing the same air. Arthur swallows heavily and pulls Merlin closer.

“I’m going to legalize magic.”

Merlin’s breath stutters against his cheek. “You’re—you what?”

“I’m going to legalize magic.”

“So…you’re not going to kill me?”

“No. Never.” He tangles his fingers in Merlin’s hair. “I would sooner throw myself on the sword.”

Merlin huffs a strangled laugh. “Will you kiss me again?”

Arthur doesn’t hesitate.

Gwaine is never going to let him live this down. But he’s the King, so it doesn’t matter.

#bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin #dragonbabbles #fic

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

James Potter hadn't always done reasonable things in life. He had made mistakes. He had hurt people. He wasn’t always nice. And he felt ashamed of it.

As a kid, James had everything he wanted. The coolest toys, the best parents he could ask for, money, a big house with a large garden and a pool, a dog to play with, delicious food to choose from and most importantly endless love. That's what made him a bit of an asshole.

It was James's need to make friends, to make kids his age like him that made him act like a selfish twat. He bragged without noticing how others might feel. He made jokes that sometimes could hurt people's feelings. He did pranks to others that sometimes got out of hand.

For James, these things weren't wrong. He found them innocent. Just to have fun. Just to be cool. James was just a kid who wanted to have friends, be liked and have as much fun as he could.

Then James grew up and things started changing around him. He started noticing that not every kid had the luck he had. For example, Sirius, his best friend, had money and everything he wanted but horrible parents. His other friend Peter lacked of confidence because his father disappeared the moment he was born. But yet, James made those two the same way he was. It was more about forgetting about their issues while pranking, breaking the rules and having fun than actually fixing anything.

There were three things that made James open his eyes.

The first one was Remus Lupin. When he arrived, James wasn't happy. He felt threatened by how close he was of Sirius. He got a bit jealous. So he was a bit cold, even mean with Remus. It was until he found out about his past life. Remus had been made fun of, pranked and bullied by other kids his entire life for being trans. And James wondered: "Haven't I done similar things to others?"

The second one was Lily Evans and the way she had called him an arrogant bully. The way she said it wasn't like the silly insults she repeated to him after he tried to flirt with her. This time she had yelled full of rage, leaving James speechless. It had been fair since he had tried to ask her out after her father had died (although he didn't know about it at the time). James understood that the girl he fancied really hated him.

The third and more important reason happened just now, the day before New Year's when James overheard a conversation between his parents he should have never heard.

"We should not tell James for now" his father was saying "You know him. He would act as if this is serious"

"But it is serious, Monty!" Hearing his mother cry had broken his heart "We are not going to pretend you are okay because you aren't."

"Is not that I am sick, Effie. My immune system is just a bit weaker"

"Weaker? Just with a tiny fever you can actually die, Fleamont. You can bloody die and leave me alone"

The way James knew it was something awful and serious was because Euphemia cried. She was sobbing into Fleamont's chest. And Euphemia wasn't a crier. She was always strong, hiding away her emotions. So what James felt in that moment was fear. It was more like panic. Like the one he used to feel when he was little and he was afraid of the dark. His hands shook. His heart raced. He felt his skin shiver in cold.

When James returned to his room, his mind was flooding with thoughts. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe his hearing was as bad as his sight. Maybe his parents had been exaggerating. This couldn't be right. Fleamont was the strongest man he knew. Sporty and healthy. A bloody rock if you asked him. This couldn't be right.

"So, did you ask them?" Sirius asked as soon as James crossed the door.

In James's mind that question didn't make sense. It felt wrong that Sirius looked as happy as he did after those news.

"Ha?" It was all that came out of his mouth.

"Marlene confirmed she is going to some club with her brothers" Sirius said as he texted "I thought you were asking your parents if we can go"

"Not to be rude or anything but this grown up party is boring" Peter added "Plus you like the McKinnons"

"He workships them more like. Especially Adam" Sirius added with a chuckle "Wait until you see Prongs following Adam like a lost puppy, Moony"

James wasn't even listening. For the first time he wished his friends weren't around. Or any adult that was downstairs. He wanted it to be the three of them. His parents and him. So they could discuss this. And Fleamont would tell him everything would be okay.

"Are you okay, James?" Remus asked with concern when James didn't answer.

The others noticed his expression because they stopped smiling and waited to hear the bad news. But James wasn't ready to tell them. It would make it true. He didn't even know what was going on.

"I don't... I don't think... we should... go...out" James had never spoken as slowly and low as now.

"Why not?" Peter asked "You were the one to say you were bored as an oyster"

"Shut up, Wormtail!" Sirius snapped "Did something happen, James?"

James looked at Sirius. His second in command. His best friend in the world. His brother. How could he tell Sirius?.

"Yeah!" he cleared his throat before his voice broke "I mean they said no... Fleamont and Euphemia... They want us to stay"

"What? Why?" Peter pouted.

Remus kept looking at him as if he knew everything.

James shrugged, grabbing a football from the floor.

"I'm going to kick it for a while..."

"Now? It is almost midnight" Remus reasoned. James just shrugged.

"Want us to come with you?" Sirius asked with his eyebrow raised.

"No! You stay here and finish those beers" James faked a smile to calm them down. Even if he wanted to die in the inside "I'll be right back"

"Be back before midnight!" Peter yelled as James climbed down the stairs two at the time.

James unleashed his frustration with the poor ball kicking as hard as he could, tossing it to the other side of the property and hitting it like a punch ball.

All he could think about was that his father was sick, probably dying and James was so terrible, he wouldn't make him proud. Fleamont's son was arrogant, a brag, a rebel who had been into trouble several times and probably a bully. What was there to be proud of?

"Only you would play football on New Year's in this cold night"

Fleamont had been James's role model since he could remember. He had promise to grow just like him. But he was horrible. He wasn’t the man his father was. Why wasn't James sick instead of him?

"You shouldn't be outside, Dad" James sniffed rolling the ball between his feet, eyes locked on it "It is freezing"

"Dad, is it now? Weren't you too cool to call me that? You've been calling me Fleamont or Old Man for a while now. It actually sounded weird to hear that, you little brat"

James's eyes were burning with tears at this point.

"Do I have privileges now that I am a bit sick?"

James's head turned as quickly as possible. Fleamont Potter was smiling under the moonlight. His glasses reflected the light. His hands were on his pockets. He was dressed elegantly for the party looking casual. But James noticed the bags under his eyes. Sucked cheeks. More wrinkles. Whiter hair. Skinner complexion. James saw Fleamont's illness reflected on him.

"I know you heard my conversation with your mother, James. I saw you through the door"

"Are you dying?" James was surprised how small his voice sounded.

Fleamont took a deep breath "No..."

"DON'T LIE TO ME! YOU'RE FUCKING DYING, I KNOW IT! TELL ME THE TRUTH, YOU COWARD! TELL ME THE BLOODY TRUTH"

James had spit and pushed his father in the process. That made him ashamed. Jokes aside, he had always respected his father. Now he felt terrible. So he started crying.

James felt his father's arms wrapping around him. And James hugged him back, clenching from him as if he would disappear any moment. James didn’t want to lose him. He loved him. He loved him so much. And he needed him.

"It's okay, my son. Sh sh sh. It's okay" Fleamont sighed as he stroked his son's hair gently "I'm not going anywhere"

When James calmed down, they sat on a bench and they talked about what was happening. They missed midnight and the celebration inside but James didn't care.

Fleamont explained that years ago the family's fabric used other chemicals for their products. Poisonous ones. That many workers ended up dying. This changed with time and The Potters discovered other chemical-free ingredients to continue producing. But Fleamont had visited the fabric back then plenty of times when he was younger. And the exposure to those chemicals had damaged his blood and immune system.

"So, you're okay?"

"Doctors said I need to have a healthier life" Fleamont explained "That knowing your mother, she will follow rigorously..." he snorted "But I am not precisely sick. I need to slow down a bit. Take care of myself. Try not to get sick. Because any kind of problem would be dreadful to my organism"

James nodded, now feeling better "If you don't follow the doctor's orders, I'll kill you myself, Old Man"

Which made Fleamont laugh.

"No Dad anymore?"

"You bloody scared me, Fleamont"

The man just responded with a smile and a soft pat on James's shoulder. Though James was still sad and very very scared.

"Do Granpa and Nonna know?"

Fleamont shook his head "Not yet"

"Maikee? The guys from the fabric?"

"Only your mother besides you and me"

"But you didn't want to tell me"

"Because you're just as exaggerated as your mother. Even worse"

"Watch it! Old Man" James pointed a finger at him.

Fleamont let out a soft giggle.

"Should I tell Sirius?" James twisted his mouth thinking about Sirius’s reaction.

"I think we will find the right time to tell him. The three of us. Okay?"

James nodded in response. He was still restless. He was still scared of his father being so vulnerable and fragile.

"Dad..." James said carefully which made Fleamont smile "Are you proud of me?"

Fleamont opened his mouth but James continued before him.

"I'm... I'm not a good person" James said "I've been kind of a twat with a lot of people. I've been mean. I've been selfish. And I haven't been the most obedient son... I've driven you and mum mental many times" James shook his head "I am awful. You don't deserve me"

"I am very proud of you, James" Fleamont answered with a soft smile. James was surprised that he sounded genuine.

"Didn't you hear..."

"Yeah" Fleamont nodded "I am not proud because you are perfect. Because you are not... I am proud because you are an amazing person and a good human being. You've might have made mistakes or hurt people. James, you are so young, you are a kid. We are all a bit awful at that age. But I see you are maturing... You are becoming an incredible man. Even more than me"

James expected some scolding. Some sort of disappointment from his father.

"But I..."

"Have you ever wanted to truly hurt someone?" Fleamont asked.

James shook his head.

"Then it had only been silly mistakes of a kid. From now on, James, be a man. Start doing things right. Silly pranks, jokes and mischiefs are fun. But there comes a time in one's life when he needs to take care of serious matters. And I reckon you are doing an amazing job"

"So you don't think I am a bad person?" James's eyes filled with tears.

Fleamont shook his head "Of course not. You have the best of your mother and me. And we are very proud of you"

James wrapped his arms around the old man as tears ran down his eyes. He was willing to change and ammend his mistakes. It was time to grow up. Yes, he was only sixteen. He was still young and he could still have fun. But he was going to be better. He was going to stop making fun of others. He was going to stop bragging. He was going to make Remus feel welcome no matter who he was. He was going to take care of Sirius and Pete. He was going to stop showing off and asking Evans out like an idiot. She deserved better probably. He was going to be a good person. And make his parents proud. New Year, new James.

"I love you, Dad" James said as he squeezed his father tightly.

"Love you too, my son"

#Happy Birthday Prongs #I hate when people see him as a saint from the beginning #He was a good person but not perfect #What's interesting about this character is his arc #marauders #maraudersera #muggleau #james potter #jily #prongs #remus lupin #sirius black #peter pettigrew #lily evans #fleamont potter #euphemia potter

[fkinavocado]

In which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them.

Daddy issues- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

Chapter 21 / alternatively, read on wattpad

Chapter 22 (Word count: 4k)

About a month had passed since that very eventful evening. Harry was right, nothing could take away from the joy having told each other “I love you” had brought. Not even all the chaos that had led up to that point. 

Looking back, you remembered none of the bad stuff. You’d been on cloud nine, ever since. Harry wouldn’t even discuss you going back to live in another city when you could work remotely just fine, and in truth you didn’t want to go live 2 hours away from him either. So, at his suggestion, you’d been practically living together ever since that day, more or less straight out of your already impromptu California bag. You didn’t even go back once to your place to get more of your stuff, but you hadn’t needed anything since you were working from home and barely put on any clothes to begin with.

The two of you were acting as though you were on your honeymoon. That’s what it felt like. You’d had a trial run on your trip together but this was something else entirely. Harry sometimes worked from home but mostly he had to go in office, and on site to various projects he was overlooking, and when he’d come back home you felt your heart swell. You’d never imagined you could enjoy this domestic angle to a relationship. But you loved waiting for him to come back home to you. You missed him as soon as he left out the door and couldn’t wait to see him come back to you. You were someone who normally valued alone time a lot, but with Harry you never felt smothered or like you needed time to yourself. You knew it was healthy to spend time apart but you weren’t yet ready to share him with the outside world. You felt it was unfair the two of you had to work when you had much more important stuff to do, like making love all day.

Harry of course was over the moon to have you all to himself. He loved throwing his briefcase on the dining room table when he got back from work, even when you were already on the couch next to it, and yelling “Honey, I’m home!”, the biggest, brightest grin on his face. To which you’d respond in various ways, his favourite seemingly the one where you hitched up the already skimpy piece of clothing you would lounge around the house in, spreading your thighs widely and revealing your naked core to him, and saying “Nuh-huh, daddy. Here’s your home, balls deep inside me”. 

Harry went feral the first time you pulled that stunt on him.

You even spent Valentine’s tucked away from the world as well. Harry kept you in bed all day. He started by having his own “breakfast” in bed. Then he brought you your (actual) breakfast in bed, on a proper tray and everything, even adorned with a singular dwarf sunflower and insisted on spoon feeding you and also that you don’t cover your breasts while you eat so that he can lick trails of strawberry jam off your nipples. 

Then, needles to say you were all sticky and you had to take a shower together so he could make sure you’re squeaky clean, but only after he fucked you silly and let you have your own sticky desert at the end. You then got back in bed and Harry rested his head in your lap (he still insisted you don’t cover your breasts with the bedsheet) reading poetry out loud to you from his favourite author, he’d underlined his copy all week in preparation. You just carded your fingers through his curls and looked at him dreamily, enjoying the slow cadence of his deep voice and that’s how you fell asleep in the afternoon, him mouthing at your breasts to his heart’s content. 

He woke you up though, just as the february sun was setting early, he had more in store for you. He wanted to edge you while you read him back some of the poems he picked, you had to make sure you didn’t stutter, otherwise he’d stop. He didn't let you come for nearly an hour, lapping lazily at your pussy, his head resting in the crease of your thigh, fingers pumping slowly inside you. And after all that, he fucked you- hard, and you soaked the bedding. 

He next ran a bath for both of you, even lit up candles all around the tub, used your special bath bombs and propped up a chair with a rom-com to watch on his laptop as you sat between his legs and he massaged shampoo into your scalp until you groaned in bliss. 

He changed the bed linen and got dinner ready while you blow dried your hair. He made you your favorite, pasta carbonara from scratch and coupled it with your preferred wine but pouted at you for putting on clothes, although he’d also put on sweatpants, as you’d pointed out, so he let it slide. 

Since you were (partially) dressed you asked for a late night car ride and Harry was pleased to indulge you. You held hands over the console while soppy valentine’s day music played over the radio, and you ended up nodding off, your temple against the window. He drove back home, gently took you back into bed and you didn’t wake up until he tried to wiggle you out of your jeans so that you’d be comfy. You were in his arms, ready to fall back asleep but there was just one thing missing, and he was more than willing when you asked to cockwarm him, but you ended up making slow, unhurried love instead.

Needless to say, it’d been a Valentine’s Day you wouldn’t be forgetting too soon.

All in all, living with Harry had been a smoother transition than you’d have ever imagined it to be. You still kept your lease on your flat for the time being, but Harry had been hinting at figuring out something in the near future, a clean slate for both of you. 

Maybe another state, somewhere warmer since both of you seemed to enjoy it better, it was up to your hearts’ desire, really. He felt like there was no real reason to stick around, especially now that Emily was away for college in another state anyway and likely wouldn’t ever move back to her hometown afterwards.

Speaking of Emily, that was the only thing putting a damper on all of this.

Harry tried hiding it from you, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. You knew it was affecting him badly. He really hadn’t anticipated Emily to hold this big of a grudge over the whole thing- she wouldn’t talk to him at all. You tried not to pry, let him tell you what little he wanted to, but he didn’t want to talk about it at all. And you didn’t want to push him. You’d told him you were there for him if he ever wanted to talk about it but he always reassured you it’d be fine eventually and to not worry about it. 

But you were worrying about it. 

He was so sad sometimes that you could hardly do anything to get his mind off things. He had every right to be sad about it. You knew how special his bond with his daughter was, and of course you couldn’t help but feel responsible for all of it.

You, on the other hand, hadn’t spoken at all with your family either but for very different reasons. They hadn’t tried getting in touch either. All you knew about them anymore was coming from Niall, that over the top lawyer Harry had. The whole thing was a legal mess. Yes, Harry had paid a fine for public misdemeanour, luckily your father was alright so there was no solid ground for any further charges against him (he did deliver just that one punch, to be fair-- but luckily the fall your father took hadn’t been fatal or very serious even); but the whole thing with Derek and the drugs he’d planted on Emily was ongoing. These things are slow like that, at least that’s what Niall had said, and Harry was upset that this was hanging over his daughter’s head for as long as it had been, but you had no choice but to go through the albeit slow legal process of it all. Harry had turned in the evidence he had from the private detective he’d hired to keep an eye on Derek (and for good reason, as it turned out), so it was really just a matter of waiting it out, the outcome was surely in your favour but still it was upsetting that it was taking so long.

You hated seeing Harry so thorn over it. But there was nothing you could do except trust him that in time Emily would turn around… though you doubted it. You never told him as much, of course. You had much different issues with your own father, but still you tried putting yourself in her shoes and it wasn’t pretty, you could admit it. Had she not had to find out about it this way, maybe things would have been much different; as it was though, you could imagine the shock Emily must’ve had when it all came crashing down on her like that, and she’d already been quite shaken up about the whole thing with Derek, emotionally, but not to mention its legal ramifications also.

It was with her in mind that you snapped out of your reverie when you heard a loud noise from across the hall. You were home alone that day, working (or supposed to be working when you were not too busy daydreaming about Harry) and with a quick glance at the time on your work laptop you realized he was unusually early. It wasn’t that Harry had a clear schedule, a 9 to 5 job, but you could gauge how long he’d be away by now, and also, he’d usually text you on his way home asking for your preference on what you should have for dinner. He loved picking up fresh groceries and loved cooking with said groceries almost on a daily basis if he wasn’t too tired from work. 

As you were processing all of this the noises got louder and you decided to go see what he was up to, a bit upset that he hadn’t stopped by the bedroom first to check in on you. Usually you would work from the dining room table but today you’d felt particularly lazy and work had been slow. Maybe it was because he disliked it when you were displaying this level of laziness. He’d never told you, but you could tell he couldn’t understand how you could work from bed when he had a perfectly fit office you could use, or the dining room table at the very least. When he worked from home, he always used the office and he would change out of his usual sweatpants he wore on lazy weekends. He didn’t suit up or anything (that would’ve been a touch too crazy, even for Harry’s workaholic ways) but he wore something he would wear on a casual day out maybe, he said it put him in a work mindset. You of course just thought he was mental. But you kept that to yourself, just like he did when it came to your working from bed sometimes. You did wonder whether he’d snap one of these days, the idea too much for his OCD, and maybe today was the day, seeing as he didn’t come to greet you and went straight for what sounded like the kitchen.

You trotted across the hallway and when you realized the kitchen was clear you were scared half to death when a young woman that you then recognized as Emily came out of her bedroom next to it. 

“Fuck! You scared the living hell out of me!” you laughed out incredulously, clutching your oversized t-shirt to your chest over your rapidly beating heart.

Emily didn’t find it funny in the least though, considering the death stare she was casting upon you “You’re here.”

You cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself “Uhm, yes, I am. I wasn’t expecting anyone… sorry” 

Emily scanned you head to toe in disdain “Clearly. Maybe you should’ve. This is my house. Well. It’s my dad’s, but I live here too”

You felt yourself blush. She was right, of course. You weren’t even wearing any underwear, but Harry’s old t-shirt was long enough to ensure your modesty “I only meant… Harry didn’t say you were coming over”

“He doesn’t know I’m here. I came for my stuff. Luckily for you, you won’t have to worry about unannounced visitors anymore, I’m clearing out my room”

“Emily…” 

“Nope. Don’t wanna hear it. I didn’t see your car up front, otherwise I wouldn’t have come in. Don’t wanna see your face as much as I don’t want to see his”

“It’s… it’s in the shop. Harry insisted he’d have his mechanic look over it…” you cleared your throat, you were rambling “Listen, Emily, I know it’s not my place, but--”

“You’re right, it’s not, so shut it. I’m here now so I’ll just get this over with. Go ahead and go back to laying around half naked all day while my dad breaks his back at work for you or whatever it is you do all day”

“... Excuse me?”

Emily rolled her eyes “I don’t give a fuck. Just get out of my face. Better not find anything missing from my room, though.”

You stepped closer then “Emily, I get that you’re upset, I really do, but this is crossing a line”

“Ha!” she laughed incredulously, getting closer too “Crossing a line, am I? Look who’s talking! Little miss <<let me drive you home and seduce your dad while I'm at it>> herself”

You gasped “I… Wow. I did not-- Emily, whatever you think it is that happened you’re imagining it all wrong. I didn’t set out to seduce anyone! And no one seduced anyone, what do you think is going on here exactly?”

She shrugged “You’re just taking advantage of my dad being lonely. Saw his place, figured he was doing well for himself. I saw yours and know you aren’t, or at least your parents aren’t. Lord knows Derek has been complaining about them not affording stuff for him”

“What!?-- They just bought him a car, whereas I had to take a loan from my father for mine. And this doesn’t even concern you! And most of all- how dare you imply I’m after your father’s money!?”

She scoffed “Why else are you here then? Sure, dad is a sweetheart-- but he’s old!”

“He’s not old, he’s older, there’s a difference!” you furrowed your brows “He had you very young, and I’m not your age, Emily. I’m 26. He’s 42. Sure, there’s a significant age gap, but stop treating him like he’s a senior citizen and I’m underage. You’re blowing this way out of proportion!’ 

“Oh, am I? He could be a grandfather!”

Your eyes widened and immediately dropped to her midsection. You noticed how she fidgeted under your gaze but before you could open your mouth further you heard the front door and heard Harry’s amused voice before you saw him making his way to you “Are you watching those despicable housewives show again? They just won’t stop bickering, huh?”

The sweet grin on his face faded instantaneously as he froze in place the moment he laid eyes on the two of you. Nobody was saying anything so you cleared your throat “I’ll give you guys some privacy” and meant to walk away but Emily snapped

“No, stay. I want you to hear what I’ve got to tell him, too”

“Ems…”

“No, dad, you don’t get to sweet talk your way out of this. I came to get my stuff, only to bump into your half naked… plaything! Do you have any idea how mortifying this is? This is my home, too! You were so quick to replace me, weren’t you?! Hell, she’s about my age, why not let her be your new pretend daughter? Ugh. I’m gonna be sick. All of this is sick… You’re sick!”

“Emily.” Harry’s stern voice surprised even you, you could feel your blood freeze in your veins, but to your shock, she continued

“No, no. You are! I was just telling her how sick and perverted this whole thing is! You’re old! Why can’t you act your age? And, are you really that gullible? She’s clearly sticking around for as long as she can profit off of you. What is wrong with men?! I can’t believe you turned out to be just another sick bastard, like all of them! Not only that, but you’re apparently also violent?! What the hell is wrong with you!? My whole life has been a lie! You’re not the man I thought you were, not in the least!”

Your downcast eyes peeped a look at Harry and you could tell that under all that angry facade his heart was shattering. Emily was being brutal. And he had to sit there and take it with a brave face, be the father she was falsely accusing him not to be “You stop this right this instance! I won’t allow it! Like it or not, I’m still your father and you will not raise your voice at me, let alone judge me. You’re wrong, by the way, terribly so, but you’re too much of a child to see it. You’ve done some terrible mistakes, Emily, ones I’ve clearly warned you about, yet you have the nerve to cast judgement on what I’m doing?! Since when do you think that’s acceptable?”

“I--”

“Shut it. I don’t want to hear it! You’ve said enough. I’m terribly disappointed in you, Emily. I wanted to talk to you, explain all of this in a mature, adult conversation, since I thought you were grown enough to have one, but things that were out of my control escalated in such a manner that you had to see and hear things that you shouldn’t have- not like that, at least. And for that, I’m sorry. But I won’t apologise for my personal decisions, I don’t even have to explain them to you! My love life is none of your business! Whom I date is none of your business! I’m not bringing a woman home telling you this is your new stepmother, something you didn’t second guess as a child when your mother did it- but somehow I’m held responsible now that you’re all grown and away for college? I wanted to tell you because I love you and I want us to always be as close as we’ve ever been. I couldn’t tell you the way I wanted to, but I never imagined you’d end up saying such vile things about a person you don’t even know, at the end of the day!”

“Oh, but I do know her! I know her and her brother and that whole awful family of theirs! They’re nothing but scammers, dad. And you’re falling for it!--”

“I won’t have it, Emily, I’m not letting this go any further. You’re blinded by hatred. I can’t believe half the things you’ve said to me today! This is not the kind, gentle soul I’ve helped raise from as small as my own two palms!” he held his hands before him and you could see he was fighting off tears but was losing the battle 

“And you’re not the father I thought you were! Stop trying to spin this on its head and make me the bad guy! You’ve kept things from me, I don’t even recognize you any more!”

“That’s not true! Nothing changed, if you would just stop whining like a brat and start acting your age I would try talking to you about it! But you’ve hurt me, Emily! This is the woman I love you’re spitting venom at!”

“Love!? Please! Are you kidding me right now? And what about me, your own daughter! You’re really picking her over me!?” her voice was wavering now as well, and you could see tears well up in her own eyes too

“There’s never been a matter of choice, Ems. You’re my kid, I’ll love you no matter what, always, even now when you’re being so awful! But that doesn’t mean you get to say and do whatever you want! Why are you being like this? Do you not want to see me happy?”

Emily groaned in frustration, wiping her tears away “I can’t believe you right now! You are! You are choosing her over me!”

“Petal--”

“No! No, no, no!” she shrieked, covering her ears “I don’t wanna hear it! This is sickening! She could be your daughter, what the hell is wrong with you!? Stop it, stop! It’s either her or me! Understand?”

“No, it’s not, Emily” his voice was back to being stern, she was losing her grasp on reality and Harry needed to be a grounding presence so that she could snap out of her histeria “You stop it! You’re acting like a child!”

“I don’t care!” she shouted, stomping past you and into his face “If you have any semblance of decency in you you’ll end this! You hear me? It’s either her or me! I mean it! I can’t be around you when you’re going to act like a sick twisted old man with a Lolita kink! That’s not my father! I won’t accept it!”

You covered your face at her words, it was unbearable. They must’ve just stared eachother down for a beat because next thing you knew you heard the front door again and Emily was gone.

You watched Harry stare at his feet, his hands on his hips, chewing nervously on his lower lip and you finally whispered “Oh my God…”

His eyes snapped back up at you, almost as though he’d momentarily forgotten you were in the room and the more he looked into your eyes  the more you could see his own shine, tears threatening to spill and you quickly made your way towards him, pulling him into a tight hug. He hugged you back just as tight and then you felt him shake violently in your arms, quiet sobs he was trying to muffle rattling through his whole body

“Oh, baby…” you cradled the back of his head in the crook of your neck and tried soothing him, but he was beyond his breaking point. You realized you couldn’t hold him upright anymore and you both kneeled to the floor where you felt you could handle holding his upper body in your arms. He was leaning his entire weight on you, and he was much heavier than you’d ever realized until then. He was truly heartbroken, you’d never seen him like this “Shhhh… it’s ok, it’s gonna be ok…”

He shook his head, and you felt just how wet he’d gotten your t-shirt on that side “She’s never gonna get over it”

“She will. She’ll come around…”

“No, she won’t” he gasped for air and you cradled his face in your hands. His eyes were bloodshot, he looked a mess. You’d never seen him this shattered. You’d never seen anyone like this. It broke your heart in ways you never knew were even possible “I know her. She’s not gonna let this go. She’ll never understand”

You gulped, searching his eyes. He was utterly heartbroken. 

And it was all your fault.

“Please stop crying, baby. I can’t see you like this” you let out a sob you didn’t know you were holding in “I can’t. It’s breaking my heart. Please, I can’t see you hurt like this”

Harry pulled you into his arms then but you could tell he was still crying. He pressed his cheek to the top of your head and you could literally feel his heavy yet silent tears wet your hair “You’re right” he tried to sound calm but you knew he was holding back for you now and that made you feel even worse “She’ll turn around”

But you both knew that was a lie you were telling eachother but not to yourselves. Emily was not going to budge. So much was clear to you both.

He had to choose. 

And he would never make the choice. He’d never be able to live with himself no matter what he chose.

“It’ll be ok. I promise, Harry” you held him tight, squeezing your eyes shut and yet a fresh stream of tears still made their way between your lashes. You knew, in that moment, that you had to make the choice for him. “I love you...”

Chapter 23

A/N: DON'T KILL ME 💀! REMEMBER, THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER 😅

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

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#harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #dilfrry #dadrry #dilf harry styles #daddy harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #daddy!harry #dilf!harry #harry styles daddy kink #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #daddy issues #harry styles #part 22

[starsurface]

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Regressor Kung Lao w/ CG Raiden (Fic)

Kung Lao was normally a very sweet little.

That didn't mean he didn't like bouncing off the walls, or testing how much patience Raiden had. But he didn't like getting in trouble. Sometimes he pushed things too far and would be sent to time out. He never really served his full sentence though, Raiden was a sucker for puppy eyes and tears.

But he almost never purposely acted like a brat.

Which was why Raiden was so confused when he saw a broken vase on the floor.

More importantly, his broken vase.

Raiden had just come back from some training. It had gone smoothly. In fact, his entire day had gone mostly smoothly. But now he was home. Kung Lao had retired early for the night, mostly per Raiden's request. He could tell that Kung Lao was slipping. Raiden had just helped clean up and wipe down the place, so it wasn't like Kung Lao had a bunch of time to be mechevius. An hour at most.

He had expected the TV to be on some random channel, and Kung Lao crying about being unable to figure out the buttons. Or maybe even him trying to make food because he was hungry. He wasn't supposed to be using the microwave or stove while small. But Kung Lao sometimes threw a hissy fit, claiming he was a big kid and could do big things. Although a quick kiss on the forehead and telling him he was too small for something 'allowed' Raiden to help him.

Raiden wasn't concerned about the vase. Well, he was, he wish it wasn't broken. But he wanted to make sure Kung Lao hadn't cut or hurt himself first. He'd think of a small punishment or something later. He wasn't concerned about that right now. He needed to make sure Kung Lao wasn't hurt before anything happened.

"Kung Lao! Where are you-" Raiden cut himself off as Kung Lao waddled into the room with a dustpan and small broom.

The two stared at each other for a few moments. Kung Lao's eyes were wide. He hadn't expected Raiden to come home so early! He also hadn't meant to break his vase. He was gonna clean it up!! And try to put it back together! But now he was gonna get yelled it.

Kung Lao gasped, pointing at the broken pieces, "Oh-no!"

Maybe he could get out of trouble?

"Yeah, oh-no," Raiden nodded, smiling as he crossed his arms.

"How'd that happen?" Kung Lao put on a puzzled face.

Raiden saw through his act.

"That's a good question, Lao. How'd it happen?" Raiden asked, crossing his arms. Kung Lao suddenly looked skittish. "I'm not . . . mad, baby. I'm upset my vase is broken. But let me see your hands. Did you cut yourself? Does it sting anywhere?"

Kung Lao looked at the ground, but showed Raiden his hands. There was a small cut, but nothing bad. Raiden frowned at it.

"How'd you get that, sweetheart?" Raiden asked. Kung Lao looked at the wall. "Kung Lao, did you try picking up the glass with your own hands?"

"Are you disa-disaponted?" Kung Lao strugged, looking up at Raiden meekly.

"No, not disappointed. And especially not at you," Raiden kissed Kung Lao's temple. "A bit upset, but not mad or disappointed. I'm more concerned that you got hurt more than anything though."

"It's just a scratch," Kung Lao huffed.

"Just a scratch? No, no, this is very important," Raiden shook his head. "I'll pick up the glass, okay? Don't touch it. Let's get you a bandaid."

"But I was gonna glue it together!" Kung Lao whined. "I was playing wif the ball and it hit the vase. And so I thought I'd put it together for you!"

Raiden blinked at Kung Lao before smiling, laughing at his kind gesture. The thought was nice, but he didn't want to see Kung Lao get hurt by cutting himself on the pieces again. He was upset about his vase being broken, but the pieces did seem big enough to try to put back together. Plus he hadn't gotten the chance to put anything in it, so nothing inside spilt.

"How about we try to put it back together?" Raiden suggested. "We'll get this finger all bandaged up, and then I'll pick up the pieces, and then you and I will try to put the pieces back together, okay?"

"Like a puzzle?" Kung Lao asked, bouncing slightly. He liked puzzles!! They didn't own any, but Kuai Liang owned some!

"Exactly! But we've gotta be a bit careful around this puzzle, since it's super sharp," Raiden warned him.

Raiden fussed over Kung Lao, washing and kissing his small cut. Kung Lao got a Mickey Mouse bandaid, per his request.

Raiden refused to let Kung Lao touch the glass. He let Kung Lao guide his hands while putting the vase back together. Kung Lao fussed and huffed, but he was happy about how they put it back together!!

Although. . . it didn't look the same. Some pieces were too small to hot glue back together. And the glue was obviously sticking pieces together. It looked wrong. Kung Lao didn't like it very much.

"It looks all funny now," Kung Lao frowned.

Raiden shook his head, "Nah, it looks perfect. See? You can see all the hard work and care that went into it."

Kung Lao puffed his cheeks, "Yeah but it still looks wrong."

"Well then we'll make it a lesson, no more bouncing the ball inside," Raiden said, Kung Lao crossed his arms, glaring at him. "Did you think you'd get away without a lecture?"

"Well . . . maybe," Kung Lao shrugged.

"Wrong answer," Raiden booped his nose. "Now, it's okay to play with the ball, but we've gotta be careful when we throw it. Because if we throw it in the wrong direction, we can break something more breakable than a vase. We've even gotta be careful when we're rolling the ball! Otherwise we can hit the table leg again and drop a cup. Remember that?"

Kung Lao giggled at the memory. Raiden had done it when he was small. He rolled the ball in the wrong direction and it smashed into a standup table, knocking it and the stuff on it over. Nothing broke, but it was a huge mess. The poor baby sobbed over it. Kung Lao didn't yell at him, since Raiden really hadn't meant to do it.

And Kung Lao hadn't meant to break his vase. It was fixable, although they'd probably never be able to put anything in it anymore. Which was fine, it was more for decoration anyhow. He'd have to put it in a safer place though.

"I'll remember!" Kung Lao nodded. "Oh! Papa?"

"Yes, dear?" Raiden smiled, kissing Kung Lao's temple.

"The TV remote came apart again," Kung Lao said, holding back a giggle.

Raiden shook his head and ruffled Kung Lao's hair, already leading them both to the living room. So that's why he was playing with the ball. Raiden would have to leave simple instructions on how to put on Kung Lao's favorite show instead of just smashing buttons and dropping the remote on the ground when he gets upset. Maybe a picture design?

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

And this was the second Mortal Kombat fic I ever wrote! :D

#age regression #agere #sfw age regression #mortal kombat agere #sfw agere #mk agere #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat #mk raiden #raiden mk #raiden #mk1 raiden #cg raiden #caregiver raiden #kung lao mk #mk kung lao #kung lao #mk1 kung lao #little kung lao #regressor kung lao #railao

[harryssattelitestomper]

Adore You💘

My Masterlist

A/N: The third part of The Fine Line - series!

Warnings: Maybe some cursing. Fluff.

Wordcount: 623

in which, Harry has never been happier.

------

"Bye baby, have fun!", you wished Harry as he picked up the lunch you made him to take with and left to go to the studio. He was going to go work on some new lyrics he'd been stuck on with Tom and some other people.

That gave you the time to get some work done and go to the grocery store to pick up some things for the dinner you planned for tonight.

Harry had been really stressed because he was having a major writing slump he just couldn't get pass. So you thought making his favorite dinner would take some of the baggage off of his shoulders.

------

It was nearing four pm and you had finally finished your work. So you had time to head to the grocery store to get a few things you needed for dinner.

You took your purse and your keys and headed to your car. Playing some Fleetwood Mac, you drove to the store.

------

The trip to the grocery store only took you about a half an hour so you had more than enough time to prepare dinner. You decided to make a creamy pasta that was one of Harry's favorites.

The pasta was almost done when Harry sent you a message saying he was on his way home. After you quickly answered him to drive safe, you finished up the pasta and poured some wine to the glasses.

------

"Lovie, I'm home!", Harry yelled out as he was taking hi shoes off. He had had an awful time at the studio, nothing going well; the coffee was out, one of his friends was sick and the lyrics he had wrote were complete shit - he just wanted to go home and see you.

As he put down his stuff and made his way through your shared home, the smell of a home cooked meal filled his nostrils. The smell making him immediately feel more at ease.

"Hi baby.", you said to him as he walked past the kitchen enterance and towards you, wrapping you in a tight hug.

His face smushed in between your shoulder and neck, he mumbled "Smells good." "Good, I made your favorite. Figured you've been so stressed and wanted to do something nice for you" you huffed out a laugh as you removed yourself from his warm embrace and led him to the dining table.

Harry didn't think he could love you any more. He couldn't help but think what he'd done in his life to deserve to have someone like you to love him the way you do.

As he slowly made him way down to sit on the chair, he looked at you with so much love in his heart it almost burned it through.

------

Harry woke up the next morning turning to his left side to face you, admiring your peaceful face as you slept. Sometimes he couldn't believe his luck. He had you; someone who loved his family as if they were her own, who always went the extra mile to make him smile, and most importantly, someone who loved him for him, someone who loved him unconditionally.

And he came to the realization that he would do anything for you, including walking through fire.

As he was in his own bubble of thought, sudden inspiration hit him. It was like a light bulb just went on, on top of his head.

He quietly got out of bed, as to not wake you. And quickly made his way through the house and into his homestudio. Taking out his notebook and swiftly scribbling down the lyrics that came to his mind.

'I'd walk through fire for you Just let me adore you Like it's the only thing I'll ever do'

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A/N: I'll try to make the next parts longer. But everytime I feel like I'm just rambling and there's no story behind it.😫

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