#his father may not have been the easiest man in the world to live with but he always did what he had to

[vigilskeep]

Whenever I think about your Keir I think about Bethany telling Anders he reminds her of Malcom. I’m sure that won’t ever affect Keir ever.

bethany is my favourite mage bc she never misses with that psychic damage

but really he and anders aren’t even a thing in act 1 so it’s less like “PLEASE stop comparing my crush to our father” and more like “oh fuck off i spend my entire life trying to act like our dad and one (1) mage rolls up and suddenly he’s dad??”

#the bethany anders keir weirdness about malcolm is so real #because bethany says ‘you remind me of him (generally positive)’ in act 1 #but in later acts i think she’s still seeing the same thing just with a different uhhh mindset #seeing the way her dad wanted her to be something she wasnt and strive for something she was never sure was worth the sacrifice #how he tried to make decisions about what was best for other people. how he risked lives etc #whereas anders also has his own perception of malcolm which i think is quite... idealised #it means a lot to him that a mage raised a family that loved him. and hes envious of it #but thats definitely a standard anders is making up. if anders and malcolm really met we’d have to cast a barrier between them within five #minutes. for their own safety. #whereas keir in some ways saw a more complete version of his father from the beginning #but he also believes those more uhh flawed abrasive damaging sides are necessary. of course he does he repeats them #his father may not have been the easiest man in the world to live with but he always did what he had to #and kept his word and held himself to the same standards as others #but oh wait here’s the legacy dlc with the steel chair— #anyway my point being that u get these 3 in a room and theyre talking abt 3 entirely different malcolms. carnage #i dont think it would naturally occur to keir to compare anders to malcolm #but hed be like. ‘i GUESS?’ when bethany said it #honestly anders one of the things that’s kind of disillusioning abt malcolm bc like #i mean say what you like about my man anders but he was never all talk #not to dismiss the courage it took for malcolm to escape & raise a family #but thats one thing. insisting on using your abilities to help people & to go BACK for those still in the circle is kind of another #a lot of dialogue implying malcolm talked a big game about mage rights #but apart from raising a daughter who hates herself what did he actually do. #sorry thats mean but you see my point #and its not just justice that makes anders like that. sure he was more scared and hopeless about the circle #but his instincts are to help. you wouldnt catch malcolm going back to help against darkspawn even when told to run #and my malcolms also. gruff. stoic. serious. a man of few words. he does not do bits or tell you about his cat #if keir hears bethany compare anders to malcolm and at all agrees it’s not really anything about personality #he’s saying yeah i guess anders does seem like a good mage and a good man. thats the only commonality he would jump to #these tags got incredibly away from me

[not-goldy]

Realistically, if he wants children he has to leave jungkook and live with a woman/alone. If Korea suspects he has adopted a child and is raising him with a man, the child most likely will be taken away. This is not Disneyland, grow up.

And that's something to gloat about?

Opinions are like noses. Everyone has them.

Uhm, No. Compulsory hetersexuality is not his only way out in spite of the institutionalized oppression against queer individuals, inspite of the challenges queer Individuals face due to their culture.

Believe it or not Queer families do exist in SK. Queer couples exist in SK. They have for many years and they will for years to come. The world may not have been made to accommodate us but we do exist against the odds.

What you are describing here is perpetuating heteronormative traditional family values, well modern non traditional families exist in South Korea too.

The fact that their culture stigmatize people with tattoos or gay people don't mean people have stopped getting tattoos or that gay people have ceased to exist altogether for fear of oppression.

One thing about queer individuals is, if a loophole exists we will find it. Not too long yall argued its impossible for Jikook to serve together because their laws does not allow gay men to serve together and here they are proving you all wrong

Jimin has options. Believe it or not.

What you are describing is just one option, the easiest- or hardest option way out I'd say depending on how you look at it.

His life, and other queer individual's lives would be so much better if they weren't queer at all won't it?

But then again, lying about your sexuality, marrying a woman to cover up his sexuality, lying to his wife and children about who he is, using another human being to avoid persecution while hiding and meeting up at Rendezvous joints to screw other men and satisfy his gay urges- is cowardly and in itself hell yet quite common.

Some queer men do do that. It's sad, unfortunate and cruel and never easy on them too but it does happen.

If he meets a girl he genuinely loves and falls in love with and wants to build a family with her I would genuinely support that for him. He's bisexual. He can do that. It won't erase his sexuality.

If he has to use another human being to avoid persecution..... I will support that too. A boy gotta do what a boy gotta do. Sorry not sorry.

If he wants to leave SK behind, live forever as a bachelor, a single father, if he wants to use surrogates, or adopt i will support that too- fortunately for him, he has a lot of fame and money and that puts him in a privileged position compared to the average queer man in SK.

Jimin has options. Some more challenging than the other. It's his choice to make, and as he turns 30 and the social pressure increases for him to settle down, I know he's gonna think about these choices and decisions he has to make and he will decide which way to go.

He might feel they are out of time and need to get real and get with the system. Or he can choose himself and his truth and find a way around it.

I will support him any way he swings but the fact that this is what Queer people have to deal with in this life is just sad.

Stay strong Jimin. Hwaiting

[teecupangel]

This is because @ma-du who tagged me on this post with the idea:

Everything is the same, but the gang is reborn as Marvel characters

I am going to assume this means that the characters' personalities stay the same, it's just that they have been reborn to live the lives of Marvel characters (Assassins versus Templars plot optional XD)

Alright.

First of all, we’ll focus on MCU characters because having the ability to choose from the entire Marvel roster will… well… it would require more research that would probably take too much time XD

Also, I will primarily be using Phase 1~3 MCU characters (focusing on the Avengers with some exceptions) because the post did have Infinity Saga MCU characters (yeah, that’s the main reason why).

Alright, let’s give everyone some new problems!

Desmond: Moon Knight. Okay, he’s the main reason why I said ‘with some exceptions’. I mean… come on. Come oooonnn. Oh course, Desmond will still suffer thru the Bleeding Episodes which would lead him to be the AC equivalent of Moon Knight. Not to mention, just imagine the absolute fuckery he will suffer thru when he meets up with the reincarnated versions of his ancestors while he still have his ancestors in his brain as the Bleeding Effect. Instead of Khonsu though, I suggest we go for Ra (for the sun irony) or, if you wanna stay in the Greco-Roman mythology that was strongest in Desmond Saga, may I suggest Minerva (to make Minerva suffer with him) or Dionysus?

Altaïr: Doctor Strange, hands down. Used to be an arrogant overachiever? Taken down a peg by some kind of tragedy? Still a bit of an asshole but now has an entire subject he could spend the rest of his life studying and be the top expert still? Becomes leader of a secret-ish organization trying to protect the world in what amounts to a short time all things considered? OP powers with a lot of glowing gold accents AND holds an OP artifact? Altaïr is, hands down, the nearest Doctor Strange we will have on this list. Sidenote: Malik gets Wong’s job of being the usually annoyed dude that has to keep Altaïr from bending the rules too much. The Sanctum Masters are the Rafiqs of Damascus and Jerusalem + Kadar. Karl Mordo will have to be Abbas (sorry Karl Mordo) while Al Mualim would either take the Ancient One (if we plan to keep him good in this one) or Kaecilius.

Ezio: Iron Man. He comes from a rich family with lots of connections, is actually smarter than people usually assume he is, flirts a lot but also carries a torch for a specific person in his life, and a tragedy in his life changed him. Of course, his father wasn’t a dick to him (up to you if we gonna kill Giovanni and Maria off for drama), Federico gets reborn as Happy (who is still Ezio’s brother but preferred to be his security officer), Claudia is still his sister but has Pepper Pott’s job (although, everyone in Auditore Industries knows it’s really Claudia who takes care of the everyday operation, Ezio is the inventor and the face of the company, Claudia is the shadow queen) and Cesare gets to be Justin Hammer. Petruccio can be the kid in Ironman 3 or he's just living his life as the third Auditore child who has cool 'toys' to help his weak body that his brother made for him.

Ratonhnhaké:ton: We can go for Hawkeye/Ronin, the normal human who can keep up with everything that’s happening (also, he would make a good parental figure for the Frye twins). Also, even if we call him ‘normal’, we all know he could kick everyone’s ass thru sheer determination and stubbornness alone. Another option would be Black Panther but I kinda want Adéwalé to be Black Panther?

Haytham: … is it weird I kinda want him to be Nick Fury? Like… he’s the all-time suffering man in charge who doesn’t actually have any authority over any of the superheroes he ‘conscripted’? I just want Haytham to suffer while, for once, not being on the other side.

Edward: Okay… I mean… I know there would be a Phase 1~3 character that would work for him, the easiest would be making him part of the Asgardian family drama but, may I suggest a non-MCU character? Daimon Helstrom. Because Edward’s actor Matt Ryan is sooo good as Constantine that I will always think of him as Constantine. Helstrom is the nearest Marvel equivalent to Constantine and he’s also a free agent type which works well with Edward’s character for most of Black Flag. (plus I got “canceled after a good season 1” deja vu with Helstrom as I did with Constantine). If you really want him to be part of Phase 1~3, Antman (Scott Lang) would work with Jenny taking the place of the daughter Cassie.

Shay: If Haytham is our Nick Fury, Shay gets to be his Maria Hill (second-in-command, normal human that can kick so much ass, and… that tight outfit) or Phil Coulson if you wanna go down the route of Shay doing his own thing.

Arno: Spider-Man because I think Ezio mentoring him would be a nice touch and… his first love Élise being a Templar is kinda similar to how Liz was the Vulture’s daughter. Still thinking about who his Ned should be though.

Evie and Jacob: Look, we’re talking about twins here so I’m pretty much obligated to make Evie and Jacob Wanda and Pietro. Although, this time, Jacob’s not gonna die. XD

Bayek: Steve Rogers (no, he will not be called Captain America, think of a more ‘universal’ superhero name) because he’s an all-around good guy, his default weapon in AC promotional images has him using a shield, and he started out as a man who just wanted to do what was right and protect his people that got sucked into the overarching plot because of a tragedy. Also… Aya as a badass normal human like Peggy Carter, hhhmmm?

Kassandra: You know, I was thinking that Kassandra could be Steve Rogers with Alexios becoming Winter Soldier. (Which I think would still work, we’ll just have to change Bayek into someone else…) But Kassandra has to be Captain Marvel, right? The OP powers and “not to be a lesbian but oh my god oh my god” vibes she gave off just made her suited to be Captain Marvel more.

Eivor: She’s gotta be reborn as Thor, right? Like… sure, Odin is right there but Eivor’s love for fighting and her loyalty to her people feels more like Thor than Odin. (Let’s not make AC Odin reborn as MCU Odin. I’d even go for Varin to be reborn as her father again or even Sigurd to have a bit of arrogance at this point)

Basim: Look. We all know Basim’s gonna be reborn as… Korg. Of course, I’m kidding. He’ll be reborn as Loki as we all expected. XD

Clay: Deadpool. He’s supposed to be dead, his mind got shattered after receiving his ‘superpowers’, and… he’s the only person in this cast other than Desmond that actually remembers who he was before. His whole ‘knows about the fourth wall’ shtick is connected to the fact that he still has access to the Calculations and that’s actually what broke his mind… again.

#just to be clear #i don’t necessarily think we should keep the kenway boys #as grandfather-father-son #they can be related in some other way #mcu au #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #ezio auditore #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #haytham kenway #edward kenway #shay cormac #evie frye #jacob frye #arno dorian #bayek of siwa #kassandra of sparta #eivor varinsdóttir #basim ibn ishaq #ask and answer #fic idea: assassin's creed #teecup writes/has a plot #marvel mcu

[sircesimblr]

Manon: Pardon me?!

Stam: What kind of a suit is that?!

Klaus-Ove: Me? Mine?

Manon: Why, yes!

Orbin: Mine, probably.

Stam: Orbin! You're positively reeking of mothballs! Don't - ugh, don't even think of coming near Rachel in that thing. You'll ruin your... why! am I even saying this?

Orbin: Sorry. It's my father's wedding suit. He wore it on the happiest day of his life. I don't own a suit myself so I figured it "suits", haha, to borrow it, for a special day like this. Don't I look, like, "flashy"?

Manon and Stam: "Flashy"?

Manon: Oh, my eyes are hurting me, Mr. Larsen. I cannot look at you. Flashy? Those colours are thunder flashes to the soul. You may be artistic, little pup, but this isn't exactly a display of good taste and modesty!

Klaus-Ove: And why not?

Manon and Stam: Why not?!

Klaus-Ove: People, look at the big picture. Squint your eyes. I am just a simplified representation of this breathtaking nature all around us: the green and mustard grasses, the grey skies and waters, my seven ginger strands of hair, hahaha. I could've gone a little more with the greys, I admit. But imagine Rachel next to me. She's got her hair up. She wears a long dress, like, teal, or soft flaxen... white? Would she not be the only one, anybody would be looking at, next to me? Exactly. And nothing would make me happier. Mr. Stam "let me show some more of my chest so everyone will notice how hot I am" Hardenes!

Stam: I.. I... Oh, shut it.

Klaus-Ove: Hahaha, just teasing, man. You don't care about looks, I know, it's okay, you probably lost a button when you changed. I'll help you look for it later.

Manon: Oh, this is terrible. Absolutely terrible. My apologies, dear Rachel, this was a true misreckoning on my part. Please, please, erase their formal appearance from your mind when this is over... They were such fine, charming gentlemen before... Do - I urge you - do take them to a taylor's first, before you'll debut with either of them in society! Now, gentlemen, let's not prolong this and take our leave. A final bow, a kiss, to our esteemed lady!

And with that, Miss Rachel Murray, I feel my little adventure, my story about love, is coming to an end.

It wasn't an easy task, but I'm honoured to feel a little of what it must have been for you. My big little nibbles, presenting their solemnest of hearts to only you, dearest and loveliest you. By now they're all behaving like loosened hosiery, pardon me, but you've seen them. Their ways and wishes, words and dreams, and in between the lines, who they truly are.

Dearest Rachel, I wish you the very best of luck. Meeting my gentlemen, and the many more that seek your friendship and affection. Have fun, dear girl, on your journey. I bow to you too. And please, let me, or let my Watcher know some day, how it all turned out for you. It's not only love, it is life.

So, good-day, Watchers, Authors and Readers! Thank you so very much for spending your time with us. And now: back to our own worlds.

(behind the scenes:)

The gentlemen: Thanks, Miss de La Haye. A bow and a kiss for you too. Here. Here!

Manon: Stop it. Stop it.

The gentlemen: Well done! Good job. Rachel will be over the moon. We'll take it from here! But we'll forever and always be your big little nibbles too.

Manon: My heart. My goodness. Give me a minute to breathe, to recuperate, before our Watcher just magically poofs us back to where we came from. Please excuse me, lovelies. This is not the easiest thing to say good-bye to...

My big little nibbles. This desolate, lovely island. My heart, my heart, connecting with these gentle souls, like it does with each and every one of my children... it's, it's - how did I ever get to experience this? How do I go back to Praaven remembering this? Knowing these kind of men exist, knowing this kind of love exists, ready to be given to one special woman... Not me...

How do I live on, with all this inside of me?

What... And what... if she makes me... forget? What if my Watcher makes me forget this ever happened, when she sends me back?!

Heavens, no! To forget what became so dear... I don't want to, no... she can't - is that hell? Will she truly send me through hell, to get back?! All of us?!

My goodness, my goodness!! May the heavens help me!!

Stam: Guys, something is wrong with our hostess. She's having a ... meltdown? Miss! Miss de La Haye, are you alright?!

Orbin: Miss de La Haye? Are you in pain?

Klaus-Ove: Miss de La Haye!

(prev)

#a man for rachel #@kimmiessimmies #intermezzo AU mini story #that's it! #we'll see what happens over on kimmiessimmies' simblr! #and don't worry about manon #she came through hell remembering nothing but she awoke with a sudden strong determination #to raise her little nibbles a little different than she used to do #she would send a whole different generation of men into Praaven's historybooks!

[thelampisaflashlight]

I'm on a Bea kick, so here's some background info/tidbits about her. Some discussions of bullying and housing instability below the cut.

-Bea's childhood was, to put it lightly, kind of shit. Due to her mother's inability to hold down a job, they were constantly moving around, and as a result Bea never really had the opportunity to make friends, let alone attend school.

Holidays were just an excuse for her mother to go to parties, and for the first eleven years of her life, Bea didn't even know when her own birthday was.

As for her father, Bea never met the man, nor does she have any interest in doing so. All Bea knows about him, is that he was a drummer in an indie band, his name may have been Greg or Martin, and apparently she has his nose.

-When Bea did start attending school, shortly after being pawned off on her grandfather and gaining some stability in her life, she had an incredibly hard time relating to other kids her age, and was seen as a bad influence/generally a problem child, which resulted in her becoming further isolated.

Most of the time when other kids did approach her, it was to either because they'd heard rumors about her -usually drug related- or to make fun of the way she looked, however, she did manage to make two friends... which lasted until her first year of high school before they ultimately abandoned her.

-For a time, after graduating high school, Bea kind of... disappeared for a while. What she did/where she was remains a mystery to this day, and when asked about it, Bea simply says, "I was in a bad place." and leaves it at that.

When Bea does discuss her life prior to coming to the abbey, she is quick to say that this -living and working on the property- was probably the best outcome for her, and that she doesn't like to think about where she might have ended up if she hadn't gotten the job.

-Although Bea can be a little abrasive at first, she does not tend to go into things with ill intentions, and is fairly open minded/forgiving, even in regards to her tentative "friendship" with Mountain.

She can hold a grudge, but she's very much aware of this, and is actively working on not doing that.

-Bea often struggles between wanting to have "ALL THE THINGS" and absolutely nothing at all. When she wants something, she will either purchase it impulsively, or avoid getting it and feel bad about not getting it later.

She both wants to fill her space with things that make her happy, and thinks she doesn't deserve the things she already has.

She tends to hesitate to use things she has been given, and holds onto things long after most other people would.

It's a constant back and forth between wanting to throw everything in the trash and projecting feelings onto inanimate objects.

And lastly;

-Because Bea is unused to receiving legitimate praise or thoughtful gifts, when she gets either or both, she tends to panic and become flustered.

It's the easiest way to make her short circuit, but also does a world of good for her self esteem.

#lamp rambles #shitghosting #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band oc

[just-walk-around]

Fics that treat Orochimaru madness being something that grow up with time is absolutely delicious, if the disaster trios ask the ninjas and the civilians they would tell them he is crazy and cruel he betrayed his home and hurt his allies his existence bring shame to Konoha, he was a war hero and a now is a traitor.

But he was more than that He was mischievous, a genius, always searching for more knowledge, because he don't like being surprised (in the battlefield that means death) he was a orphan, he was alone, Konoha was his home, he was a proud shinobi so he would protect it with his life (he doesn't have anything else) he was a friend ( a brother to a stupid loyal boy and a strong rambunctious girl).

He was a scientist, he was always curious, knowledge is the best weapon to have so he search for more, a healthy body was necessary for fighting plus disease is easiest to get in war times and the amount of dead because of injuries will have been high so medicine interested him too his studies probably help the advance of Konoha, hell he and tsunade would have worked together in the creation of better healthcare and medicine.

In a lot a fics they portrayed him as a pariah like Naruto, and makes sense considering his looks and how paranoid people can be. Too beastly, too wrong a monster in making.

His desire of knowledge for preparation become a desire for power, his desire for healthy body become a desire for a perfect body, if people don't see him as one them why he should do it? People become specimens to use in his slowly twisted experiments.

What about the three people that were by his side since the beginning?, the third hokage was the closest thing to a father he had, jiraiya was his brother and tsunade his sister. He failed them even before his madness started so why he should care?, at least in his mind was like that, nawaki was his responsability he should have been more careful and now he is gone (he could make better, he could bring him back, tsunade would stop his self destruction path she would become the greatest kunoichi like she wanted, even if he is never forgiven he would be satisfied knowing that she is doing better) if he was stronger if he was normal if he wasn't weird and wrong sarutobi will have taken his side he will have given him the honor of becoming hokage, but he wasn't enough ( his father don't want to put that weight in his shoulders and knew that people will only saw as favoritism, he will be ostracized more feared more, Minato was charismatic and smart with Orochimaru helping him the village would have been safe and little by little he would have shown them that no matter what he was a proud citizen of Konoha, his son will have been happy if they just have treated him like one) jiraiya was a idiot his opinion not matter at all (it was like looking a mirror, a lost lonely boy searching for greatness and glory, giving mind and body protecting a home that never wanted him in first place, if he have let him know if they have talked before he crossed the line things will have different, because jiraiya would have understood he would have help him even if mean dragging his body to the light using only his teeth)

He hate all of them ( he loved the so much)

They left him behind first ( they don't know he was drowning i)

This is the path he chose ( it's too late to go back)

He is happy (maybe if he lives enough he would found something worth of living)

Sasuke want to get power not for revenge, if not because he is scared of itachi taking away his family again (deep down want to know why his beloved brother change so much) so if he have to become scum to protect the people that he loves more than anything in the world that is fine for him ( his brother though the same, the Uchihas may be cold but their love burn as the sun itself) and he goes to Orochimaru and see a lost boy that tried it too hard to be loved, see a genius overlooked working too hard, see a a man full of guilt trapped in the past. And he decide to save him not matter how much he hurts him not matter how much he lashes at him not matter how bad it gets because he also see a scared boy that not knows who he is anymore.

And I am divided how that goes because you can't save everybody.

Did Orochimaru go back, to pay for his crimes be serving the town all his life?

Did he refuses to the bitter end, dying alone, becoming another monster under the bed?

In a way of another Naruto will make sure that this story is never repeated. Children should grow safe, children should be healthy, children should live past their twelve, children deserve happiness, and if a hokage can't do it then don't deserves to be one.

#naruto #au #orochimaru #sasuke uchiha #naruto uzumaki

[wellpresseddaisy]

James decided that there was more to this story and also everyone please remember that he really, really enjoyed the 1970s (and so did Sirius and Lily). And also he had all the shame burned out of him over the various times McGonagall found him in a broom closet with Lily, or Sirius, or Sirius and Lily.

James opened his eyes to the brilliant galaxy of his childhood bedroom ceiling. The stars swirled and danced across the ceiling, reacting to the joy he felt in the Potter Magic, just as they always had. The magic, the feeling of home settled deep into his bones, even as the Paterfamilias bond sounded the warning.

It thrummed within him, the bonds with Sirius and Harry damaged and aching. He’d never experienced such…imperative magic before. In the past it lead him gently where he needed to be. Now though, now it shrieked like a klaxon against his soul.

Harry would be the easy one. He could, of course, walk into Hogwarts that afternoon and retrieve him if he wished. (He would, horribly, need to wait a bit and reestablish his existence first, but he’d have Harry back for the summer holiday at least.) Sirius, though, Sirius could be a challenge.

What absolute wazzock put Sirius in Azkaban? And for a single blasting curse? Everyone who worked that case ought to be tossed out on their arses.

They should have known. At the very least they should have asked. He knew how the magical world operated, though. They’d have found the easiest answer and stuck with it.

Well, they’d rue the day they abandoned their duty. He’d make sure of it. James sat up with a groan and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

One would think he’d feel better for having slept properly, but his legs still seemed a bit weak. Throwing caution to the wind, he shoved himself upright…

And immediately went arse over teakettle.

Dad never warned him about the particular side effects of the Avada Kedavra on Potters, but someone really ought to have written things down. Slowly, he hauled himself upright and scrabbled back into the bed.

Right, well. He’d make it work. Hopefully some wanker had started a fashion for canes because he’d need one for the first little while. First, though, he needed a wash and a shave and some proper clothing.

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

Washed, shaved, fed, dressed, and escorted by the Potter Steward (wonderful man, Alaric), James strode into the Ministry.

He liked to think of himself as striding. In reality, one could at least describe his forward motion as…forward. The cane helped a good bit, but his usual balance had yet to return.

They just spent the longest three hours of his life at Gringotts, first to alert them to his waking and then to go over every financial decision undertaken by his account manager in the last decade. Excellent chaps, the goblins. His father would have been thrilled at how skillfully they’d managed everything.

But, as he’d never have his father’s head for business, James felt a bit at the end of his tether. The estate was important, of course. A healthy estate let them live as they pleased. But he needed to get Sirius back. He knew himself—he couldn’t be the person, the father, he needed to be for Harry without either Lily or Sirius. He wanted both. Lily’s absence clawed at him, rending his heart every time he thought her name.

But he could only have one of them. Sirius lived and he knew, knew Lily would want them to raise Harry together if she couldn’t be there.

He distinctly remembered them promising each other that whoever lived would strong-arm Sirius into living with them and being a real part of Harry’s life, not just a godfather.

Lily called him Dadfoot through the whole of her pregnancy. Harry, such a delightful baby, babbled Papa at Sirius and Dada at him.

(He may, may have been the teensiest bit smug over Harry’s clearly superior baby intellect obviously inherited from Lily, but that was no reason for Lulu to hex his hair green)

James made it through registering his wand and let Alaric take his elbow. Generally Alaric wouldn’t take such liberties, but neither of them wanted him breaking his nose on the marble tiled floor. He’d perhaps overdone it a bit. Grateful for the support, he let himself be lead to the lifts.

James steeled himself as they were lifted deeper into the Ministry. He could do this. He had to do this.

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

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t have that information to hand.” The records clerk smugged at him.

He loathed smug Ministry twats in general. This particularly spotty specimen might just end with a Blood Feud sworn against them. Hell, he might just swear a blood feud against the Ministry in its entirety.

House Potter hadn’t done anything of the like in far too long.

“Can you retrieve the information, as it is your job to do so?” James asked icily. Half a bloody hour he’d been waiting. “Or does the DMLE public records department no longer contain any records accessible to the public?”

“Mr.—” The clerk looked down at the requisition form (finally) and choked on his tongue. “You’re dead.”

“Obviously not, although I may have died of waiting in the last half hour. If anyone had spoken to my house elves in the last decade they would know that I was simply…indisposed. Certainly not dead.” James tried out a sneer. He couldn’t see himself, but he reckoned his face wasn’t the sort made for sneering.

“Er…”

He seemed to have broken the clerk. Just his bloody luck.

“Look, either you have an actual arrest file on Sirius Black which I can check as a member of his family, or someone has made a terrible mistake. Why don’t we find out? Before I  expire on the tiles here?”

Another forty minutes later, James actually did stride into the DMLE proper with Alaric following, looking as if he hadn’t done anything to deserve this. Sometimes the family Steward knowing one from birth did not help matters. Adrenaline born of pure rage coursed through his veins.

“Which utter and complete wanker employed here sent the heir to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black to Azkaban without a bloody trial?” He waved the alarmingly thin Sirius Black file as he spoke.

Silence. Several Aurors craned their necks to see who made the racket and promptly went bug-eyed and pasty. Gratifying, really. He hadn’t made a good scene in ages.

Waking up didn’t count.

“Who didn’t even bother to check his wand? Hmm? Which one of you ignored protocol? Or buggered up the forms so completely they weren’t added?”

No reply, but a good bit of nervous shifting.

“Mr—”

Amelia Bones stopped short as James turned around.

“What—” she croaked, her monocle swinging by its cord as her eyes bugged in surprise.

“Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated.” James answered airily.

#harry potter #james potter #i have no idea what this is but James Potter woke up and chose violence (of a sort) #hp society/the ton #hp the season au #hp the season/the ton au

[oxtofmydcpth]

Quality is the best business plan.

[andrew koji] THE ENTREPRENEUR. Please welcome EIJI "E" YAMADA (he/him) to Huntsville, WV. They are an 38-year-old VISITOR who lives in TOWN. You may see them around working as a CURRENTLY UNEMPLOYED. Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive.

~ While his family may have been wealthy, Eiji never saw a penny of that wealth until he had been considered to have earned it. Lessons in the value of money his father had called it. Success = financial reward.

~ Money and its link to success became a staple part of Eiji's life, moulded the way he viewed life knowing that any and everything could be bought to some capacity: material object, people and their loyalty, the world if you had enough.

~ Eiji’s father offered him a small loan upon the completion of his education, a congratulatory payment to help him take his first step into the world. Meticulous was the word that could best describe how Eiji handled his businesses and the use of his fathers money, every tiny detailed planned and accounted for. It was a small venue, a bar adorned in a 1920’s art nouveau aesthetic intertwined with his Japanese culture offering something unique, elevated by his taste for the expensive and the luxurious. It became an instant hit spot for the elite, those with wealth and influence, free from the lower classes. Even his father began to frequent it, an unexpected bonus. Within a couple of months, Eiji had enough to pay his father back.

~ The next logical step was expansion, buying the buildings on either side and converting them into new room, extra bars and VIP rooms. When expansion was no longer an option, franchising became the next step, many of the same style clubs appearing across different cities in different states. Yet with all the success in the world, Eiji found himself growing bored. Too much of the same thing was dull and he needed a new and exciting project to work on.

~ Janine came along at the right time, and the whirlwind romance began, making a move to Hollywood so that she could pursue her acting career and Eiji could scope out his next venture. A man of his reputation and with the funds behind him, it didn’t take long for him to settle in, setting up his next club, somewhere the Hollywood elites and the up-and-coming stars would find difficult to avoid. A marriage to Janine followed swiftly and unexpectedly, but they were madly in love so why not right?

~ Again things developed beyond just a club, becoming something of an entertainment hub, with Eiji, now going by E, acting as a talent scout/manager for his employees, delegating them to events and other venues he owned where he saw fit. The network was his, a spider web of sorts with him in the centre.

~ Sydney was different. Something about the young man ignited such excitement in Eiji that he couldn’t help how transfixed he became whenever they performed. He became the quickest hire and the easiest management decision he had ever made. Sydney was set to be a star, and Eiji was adamant to help them get there.

~ He couldn't tell you when it was exactly they hooked up, all he remembered was Janine had been away filming for a movie, and Sydney had been there. A mistake, they both agreed, and yet it happened again. And again. Every time Janine was away it happened again. Professionalism was no longer on the table for these two. An ultimatum was given by Sydney eventually, the two arguing viciously about it, but Eiji couldn't help himself, and even while the divorce was being finalised, the two were drawn to each other. When the divorce finally came through, Eiji and Sydney became official. Janine wasn’t heard from again.

~ It didn't take long for the two to become one of LA's most prominent power couples, with the highest of highs, the envy of all around them, until they argued, when things became explosive, more often than not as public as their good moments. On and off every few weeks, an endless cycle.

~ It was during a break that Eiji’s parents passed, in quick succession to one another, and after the mourning period was over, and the inheritance money had cleared, Eiji dived back into work with his next project: Sydney’s, LA’s newest most prolific bar and entertainment venue, named of course after his former lover, decorated exactly how he envisioned Sydney’s dream bar would look like. It worked, Syd came back to him, and the place was a roaring success with Eiji pulling the strings in the background while Syd promoted the hell out of the place as if it was his own.

~ Eiji proposed to Sydney soon after, a final commitment to the man, to prove that all the bad from the past didn’t matter anymore. And yet, no matter the promises and the gifts and the excitement as the wedding was planned, arguments persisted, more frequent and more explosive than ever. Eiji's home was trashed, belongings either going missing or destroyed and the media loved the drama that followed. The whirlwind relationship that had lasted for years at this point, finally seemed to be over. Officially. ~ Rumours began to swirl when Syd went off grid that the final outburst had been the last straw, that Eiji had snapped, killing his fiancé. No one had heard from Sydney for a while now, someone so often in the public eye going radio silent was suspicious. No one had heard from Janine in a while either since the divorce. So that eventually brought Eiji to Huntsville, in search of his ex to prove to the public he wasn’t dead. But with both now missing, what rumours could swirl in the LA circles in their absence?

#huntsvilleintro

[slutforrick]

Chapter 1 (Welcome to Our Home)

You sighed holding your resume and cleaning supplies. Here you are standing in front of the Smith’s home. You’ve been applying and applying for housekeeping jobs to no avail. No one needed, wanted or could afford a housekeeper in the area. Almost like a miracle from the heavens above, you finally got a positive response from the Smith family. It was amazing how quickly the owner, Beth, reached back out to you. It seems like her father tends to create quite a mess around the house without staying around to clean it up and she’s fed up doing it herself. You needed the money as you were in between jobs and just moved to the area. It was the start of something new and this was the opportunity you needed.

You took one more breath and stepped closer to the door. With a couple of knocks you waited patiently for someone to answer the door. You hear a few crashes and stomping. “M-morty you *burp* idiot!” An older voice yells by the door. “S-sorry Rick. I-it was an accident!” A younger voice says back. You were a bit taken back by the commotion. ‘Man what am I walking into?’ You think to yourself as you awkwardly shuffle your weight between your feet. The door suddenly swings open as a tall man with blue spikey hair, blue shirt, and white lab jacket stares back at you. “W-what do you want?” He asked in a not so nice tone. “O-oh I’m here for the cleaning position.” You replied. “Not *burp* needed” He shrugged about to close the door. “Dad! I invited her. Move before you scare her away!” A lady's voice exclaimed..

A blonde woman with a red shirt came into view. The tall man looked you up and down, took a swig of his flask and walked away. The lady rolled her eyes and sighed. She then turned to you and gave you a small smile “Hi I’m Beth! So sorry about that. That was my father Rick. He isn’t the easiest person to meet, or live with, or be around. You get the point. Come on in!” She waves you in and directs you to the kitchen table. You see a man in a striped green shirt sitting there playing a game on a tablet. He doesn’t even notice you sit down until Beth nudges him and he finally puts down the tablet. “Oh Hi! I’m Jerry” He introduces himself as he shakes your hand.

Beth and Jerry, mainly Beth, begin the interview to make sure you’re a good fit for the family. “Honestly we’re not looking for the most talented housekeeper in the world. We just want someone to keep the house in order when Morty and especially Rick decide to ruin something and not take the time to clean it up.” Beth explains “Or we can just put him in a home” Jerry whispers under his breath. “What was that?” Beth questions giving him a real mean side eye. “N-nothing” Jerry whimpers, returning to his game. Clearly not adding anything meaningful to the conversation. “I may not be the most experienced or talented housekeeper but I can clean a mess or two with no issue” You stated confidently shaking a rag. “That sounds good to me! When can you start?” Beth asks “I can start now. I have all my supplies right here.” You suggested patting your cleaning caddy. “Wonderful! Can you start in the living room? It’s a total mess” Beth asks. “Yes of course!” You said getting up and heading to the living room. “Oh the vacuum is in the hall closet.” Beth points in the direction of the closet. You nod as you get to work

You grab the vacuum and head to the living room. You plug it in and start it up. ‘Man, when was the last time they vacuumed this floor?’ You questioned since the floor is literally changing colors with each swipe of the vacuum. ‘They really needed help didn’t they?’ You chuckle to yourself as you finish. You head to your cleaning bucket, grab a cloth with cleaning spray and head to the coffee table. You begin to wipe off various stains. There’s so many different colors and textures you’re not sure if it’s food or some other substance. You’re scared to ask at this point. While you’re scrubbing away lost in thought you hear a small cough. You look up to see a young boy wearing a yellow shirt and blue pants standing in the doorway. “O-oh hi. D-do we have a maid now?” He stutters clearly nervous. “More like a housekeeper” You chuckle standing up straight. “I’m Morty” He introduces himself before walking over to the couch sitting down. “I’m Y/N” You say as you go back to cleaning the table. “Do you w-want to take a break?” He inquired. “I really should do a bit more.” You replied heading back to your cleaning caddy. “C'mon we can watch inter dimensional cable.” He hinted. Now that caught you off guard. ‘Inter dimensional cable?’ You thought ‘What in the world is that?’ You turned with a confused look on your face.

Morty, seeing that you are very confused by his statement, pats the space next to him. “M-my grandpa Rick is a scientist who travels the galaxy and he found a way to watch tv from any dimension” He uttered while grabbing the remote. You weren’t sure if he was joking or not. His grandpa travels the universe? How? You’re still not sure until you see the shows that start to pop on the tv. Corn men, a show about a guy eating poop, and an interview with a guy who seems to look just like Jerry who is a movie star. ‘Huh? I guess this is the real deal.’ You think fully engrossed with each show that crosses the screen. “M-Morty why didn’t you *burp* tell me you were watching inter dimensional cable?” You look up to see the man who you now know is Rick walk into the living room. He plops down on the couch and takes another swig out of his flask. “Well it's hard to tell you when you’re not around Rick '' Morty murmurs as he continues to flip through the channels. Rick rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything back. ‘God he smells like nothing but alcohol’ You think scrunching your face in disgust.

“Y-you got a problem there sweetheart?” You look to see Rick glaring at you. You quickly shake your head returning your attention to the tv. “G-good.” He mumbles drinking some more. This time getting some alcohol all over his bottom lip. ‘What a jerk.’ You gather from the short time you’ve known him. Morty gives you a sympathetic smile then returns his attention to the tv. ‘Well this is going to be fun.’ You murmur to yourself .

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #fanfic #x reader #rick x reader #adult swim

[misswriteress]

[Begin Image Description: The words With a Spark of Magic and in smaller words A WIP Intro over top of a crescent moon with a purple misty background

End Image Description]

With a Spark of Magic // A WIP Re-Introduction

Title: With a Spark of Magic

Genre: Adult Urban Fantasy

POV: Third Person, multiple POVS

Themes: Change and progress, War and its consequences, dealing with the past, love of all kinds, family by both blood and choice, the conflict between doing what is right and following rules, corruption/power/politics

TWs: War, PTSD, Abuse

Status: Drafting

Summary and Characters Below:

SUMMARY

For a long time, magic has existed in our world: mages, Fae and other supernatural beings hiding in plain sight and governed by the Protectorate. However it has not been completely hidden as those humans aware of the world-the hunters, who entered by choice and the psychics, forced to be a part of the world by the very nature of their abilities-have become intertwined with the magic and, indeed, so has the magic become intertwined with their world.

But as the world changed, questions about the necessity of keeping the supernatural world hidden were raised. It seemed like the two worlds might finally become one, but then in a snowy city located in Canada, such hopes died in a single flash.

Over five years a bloody conflict known as the Majin Revolution hovered over the city, tearing families apart and leaving scars on everyone who came into conflict with it, whether they were a civilian or a soldier.

Three years later and everyone is trying to recover, rebuild their lives and move on from the tragedy but now it seems like history may be doomed to repeat itself.

CAST

Constanza Cavanaugh: A veteran of the Majin Revolution, who turned down the job position offered to her after the war along with her former mentor Quinn Maddock and started a private investigation firm with him. Is a half-mage, her father unknown, and enjoys a close relationship with her mother, half-sister and stepfather. Attempts to atone for her past actions by helping those that have no other option, though the guilt still consumes her. Hates her reputation and the attention it brings her.

Molly Marshall: An engineering student, she is a psychic able to sense the emotions of those around her, which isn’t the easiest thing in the world. Has a very upbeat personality and enjoys breaking things apart and figuring out how they work before putting them back together. Around people she doesn’t know very well she appears aloof and detached, somewhat of a coping mechanism to deal with her power. She completely and utterly adores her girlfriend Rose.

Oscar (Oz) Sandoval: A journalist always chasing the next big scoop, even if it lands him headfirst straight into trouble. Cannot sit still for very long, which can be a bit of an annoyance. Has never been a fan of doing things the traditional way and will kick it to the curb without hesitation. Despite generally being very flexible with his ideas, he’s not entirely sure he believes in the supernatural.

James Stewart: A former hunter who fought on the other side of the Majin Revolution, losing his right leg as a result, and he now runs a bookshop. Is a man of strong ideals and principles, which led him to defect from his position working for the Protectorate to fight against them. Can be very stubborn and often can’t understand people with differing opinions from his own. Likes the stability of his new life and would rather stay far away from the supernatural world and the pain it caused him.

with a spark of magic playlist

More Info

So this is the reintroduction for my main WIP because the other one was done a while ago and I've changed some pretty important details about the main characters so I felt it had to be changed but a lot of the stuff is still pretty similar to the old info.

I'm hoping to maybe go back and redo some of my old worldbuilding posts as well, though I'm very attached to the infographics I made so we'll see how I do that.

#writeblr #wtwcommunity #wip intro #with a spark of magic

[hargrove]

» @itsbllshit​

          Vampires. Most of the world thought they were merely myth, but Billy knew better. His father may have been a grade A douchebag, but he did at least teach his son how to protect himself. Going out on his own, leaving his home in California behind, Billy traced vampiric activity to the small town of Hawkins. It was a joke of a town, and he hoped he could wrap up his work quickly and get out, but he had a job to do. 

Billy wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. He’d seen what horrors lurked in the shadows, and even in his own home. All that darkness jaded him, churning the once happy boy into a rebellious young man who acted without a care in the world. Despite that, he still wanted to protect others. Sure, they’d have no idea that he was saving their lives on the daily, but that wasn’t the point. Truth told, he was starting to forget what the point actually was –– -

Flicking his cigarette away, Billy loaded his crossbow. He had traced unusual activity to Hawkins High. It was in the middle of the night and he moved around the outside of the gymnasium. There was rustling just around the corner and he smirked to himself, thinking this vampire was either very new or very stupid. Drawing in a steady breath, he counted internally to three, then leapt out from around the corner. The crossbow was aimed at her, but in the light of a nearby street lamp, Billy instantly saw that she wasn’t a creature of the night.  ❝ Jesus fuck ! Who the hell are you ? ❞

#itsbllshit #v ✘ once bitten twice shy : vampire au

[jessie-james-cheats-3v]

jessie james cheats free 28OO%

💾 ►►► DOWNLOAD FILE 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Jesse James cheated on Sandra Bullock nearly a decade ago with three known women: Michelle McGee, Brigitte Daguerre, and Melissa Smith. Serial love cheat Jesse James bedded at least 20 women behind his wife's back, leaving his seven year marriage to champion drag racer Alexis. One of the main reasons James and Bullock split was due to the former reality star's numerous cheating scandals. Yet, several other factors led. Jesse James is a scumbag. That's the consensus that was reached after the year-old with the imposing tattoos and greased-back hair. 9 Sandra Bullock had her heart broken just after she had lifted the Oscar in when it was revealed her husband Jesse James had cheated on her with a string of women. Want all the latest Showbiz news direct to your inbox? Share your email for news, gossip and more. But their love wasn't made to last forever as they went their separate ways five years later in Sandra, now 55, poured her heart out in her Oscar-winning speech to her husband, but shortly after it was revealed he had ruined their marriage with a series of flings. Days before his infidelity was made public, it was understood the Oscar-winning actress had moved out of their marital home. Later, two other women - stripper Melissa Smith and photographer Brigitte Daguerre - also claimed to have had romantic entanglements with Jesse during his marriage. In , Jesse defended cheating on the Hollywood bombshell as he said having marital affairs was "part of life". He told DailyMail. And that's end of story. Everything else was just…". At the time, the love rat said he come under fire from trolls on social media for sleeping around while he was married to the actress. He said: "The easy [put down] is like, 'oh well you cheated on Sandra Bullock'. That's the world's easiest comeback. Earlier this year, her ex Jesse's seven-year marriage to champion drag racer Alexis DeJoria fell apart. By Lily Waddell. Group Invalid email Something went wrong, please try again later. Sign Up No thanks, close. We use your sign-up to provide content in the ways you've consented to and improve our understanding of you. This means that we may include adverts from us and third parties based on our knowledge of you. We also may change the frequency you receive our emails from us in order to keep you up to date and give you the best relevant information possible. As always you can unsubscribe at any time. More info. Show Me No thanks, close. See our Privacy Notice. Sandra Bullock was heartbroken when it was revealed her ex Jesse James was a serial love rat. It's been a 15 years since the exes were first happily married in July Follow Irish Mirror. Facebook Twitter. 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[mariolandavid]

Hai Van Pass

Morning broke. The sounds of a chunky V8 engine carrying a huge metal frame, roared, spluttered & thundered into earshot, pierced the daybreak. "My names Bi... but you can call me Bumblebee" said the driver with a cheerful boyish grin. Parking up the retired Army Jeep, now converted into a retro transport solution for people wanting to head over to Hoi An Rambo style,  the engine quietened and the stereo could be hear playing The Eagles now that the fiery V8 was sleeping. We took in the envious glances of every passer by as we hopped on the back.

This was gonna be fun.

The Hai Van pass is the popular seaside winding road made famous by Top Gear (at least for Brits). *Jeremy Clarkson Voice* may be the best coastal road drive.... in the world. You can travel it in a number of ways, the most popular is to rent a scooter and drive across it yourself, taking in the vast ocean landscape as you scale the winding roads up and down a soaring cliff road. then back down again, sweeping along the coast circling Da Nang. You'll never want to settle for the M25 again.

Instead of the scooter route though (neither of us has been up to the bravery required to give them a go, given the fear of ending up with some kind of injury that'd spoil the 6 month trip) we got the bad-ass version. Loading up into a surplus US Army jeep retrofitted to pump out tunes and loaded with cold beers into the cooler box in the back. Why the hell would you wanna travel any other way?

" My friend and me used to smoke a lot of weed,  one day he just called me bumble because of how I got after and that name sorta stuck" said our driver for the day Bumblebee. This guy deserves some kinda commendation in life. He's been through the mill, seen his demons up close and come out again fighting.

His family had been "re-educated" by the Viet Cong following the fall of Saigon and the end of the war.; losing them for years at a time when he was growing up. COVID, not the easiest time for anyone hit Bumbleebee hard. He lost his father to a motorbike accident, fell into a deep gambling addiction that caused his wife to throw him out of the family home and away from his young son and fell into deep depression. He told us he thought of ending it all at times, only his son, who he loves dearly, talking about him non-stop, stopped him from taking that dark twisted turn.

Now Bumbleebee doesn't gamble. He works 4 jobs to put his kid through school. He's a driver, a security guard, a delivery guy. A hero. You're a bigger man than me B.

Tearing through the streets, back roads, following the path of lakes and streams & trying to take in all the huts and shrines; we pulled up on our first stop of the day, the Ghost City.

Imagine an eastern spiritual take on Keeping up with the Jones's. Your neighbour here, let's call him Jay. He's worked hard. Saved up. He's thinking of retirement. What does Jay wanna do with his hard earned life's work. Beach house? Building that den in the basement with his own bar? Maybe that little cabin he's had bookmarked in that catalogue under the living room reading lamp all these year.

None of those. Jay wants to build his own Pyramid of Giza to mark his journey to the afterlife.

The City of Ghosts is a vast complex of private family tombs. Tombs used for 1-2 days a year, glistening with broken chinese porcelain art, with Hindu, Buddhist and Christian relicery. Tombs worth up to $5m USD for miles and miles. No one in this town works anymore. They don't have to. It's filled with guys who made their fortune overseas or have cash cows living in the States, Europe or elsewhere funelling cash back home. They live in this semi-live state. Among graves and finery, building their own tombs in advance before waiting amongst them for the big day. It's a real insight into human obsession with death and legacy but most of all, it's a monument to vanity and envy. Gotta build a bigger tomb than Brian says Jay to himself. He spent $4m, mines gotta have 8 towers now. It's a strange old place and not one I think I liked. I preferred the odd huts we kept passing that when I asked, turned out to be "mushroom huts" where the locals can temp control grow any fungi they wish, magic or not

"You know there's 65 million Scooters in Vietnam"? says Bee as we parted them like the red sea in the Jeep. Sending them flying away from us seemingly by negative magnetic force. There's 100 million people in Vietnam, it's kinda crazy how Scooters dominate the place. We asked a place to watch the Premier League's opening game later that night "I got a bar for you... my Pussycat works there" as he wrote down the details of the Shamrock bar Hoi An for us. Bee had a recommendation, a story, a guy he knew at every turn.

"Top.. you emailed my boss man! He's the big boss".. Top was the owner of the company who ran the Jeep tours, he moved to the US, owns 2 hotels and 5 ex-Army Jeeps. He paints with his spare time and likely bankrolls 3-4 tombs in the Ghost City.

It was fun just to talk to Bee as we drove. The scenes themselves were incredible, speeding past Vietnam's biggest lake, taking in herds of Water Buffalo grazing in the grass and absorbing vast fields of Oyster Farms, we made our second stop. The local swimming hole.

Here we were told all about the COVID embezzlement scams that ran rife in Vietnam and were only just being prosecuted (the details are here and are really scandalous examples of corruption at every level of government). We scaled some rocks, threw down a picnic blanket and jumped into a clear stream, swimming aronud in the sunshine without a care in the world for 30 minutes before hopping out to get some lunch at a nearby seaside shack.

Bee at this point (unsurprisingly given his high energy levels combined with the fact he worked a billion jobs and never seemed to sleep) went for a nap. We ordered some lunch and took in a common sight in east Asia, but one that nevertheless takes some real getting used to. The local lunchtime karaoke slot.

Get the image out of your head of your late night trips down to Lucky Voice and Rowan's. The karaoke here isn't confined to dark corners and fuelled with secret shame. These guys live and breathe the stuff like a national passtime. An 8 strong group of octegenarians had their favourite table. Out of nowhere a crate of Huda beer appears, followed by a kid wheeing out a full size, top spec Karaoke machine. One solitary mic, the equivalent of the Lord of the Flies Conch is passed round. Earnestly, each diner sings their turn while the others at their table sit as if nothing's happening.

The earnest nature of what's happening. The sheer lack of any shame or self consciousness is just something to behold. This is serious crooning. Hell it's at 2pm on a Sunday afternoon in broad daylight in a beach shack. I've never dreamed of doing karaoke in that kind of fiery hellzone. These guys have some cojones. There's stories of houses kkicking off proceedings in the Karoke at 9am and not stopping til 24 hours later. Bumblee had a family in his village who'd had to have their power cut off to just stop them damn singing. To say Karaoke's a national obsession doesn't quite capture it.

Makes it hard to nap though... Sorry Bee.

This brought us post lunch to the main event. The big coastal drive. It's a stunning drive. The only thing I've ever done that touches Big Sur on the American west coast. The ride up is punctuated by verdant greens, as jungle and forest surrounds one side of the car, while the other opens on to a vast endless ocean.

You climb higher and higher, snaking, twisting and turning up and up the pointed mountain with scooters and trucks haring past. The view never recedes. Never lets up. It only widens or changes scene to something else breathtaking. Cliffs, rocks, private military beaches without a soul on them. Everything pristine and sublime. I wish I could have driven it myself, the thrill would have just been incredible.

That feeling quickly receded as I opened a beer in the back of the Jeep. "Yeah no actually, being driven open top here is kinda better".. Stops for photos for us, became photo opportunities for everyone else. Excited kids and grown ups piling up next to the Jeep hoping to get photos themselves. We were happy to oblige, feeling like the most popular guys on the mountain.

"See you tomorrow" was Bee's favourite joke as he constantly faux threatened to leave at every opportunity we left to go to a bathroom, swimming hole or photo spot. I guess it was endearing. It kept us guessing if we'd ever actually just be abandoned with a long way down to come, but eventually we started the descent. Flying through the air with Da Nang and Hoi An in sight from our eagle eyed vantage point, we slithered down the mountain roads into Da Nang, one of the larger cities in Vietnam that we'd be returning to in a few days.

Rising up in this city, amidst sky scrapers, resorts and beaches are the famous Marble Mountains. A Buddhist monastery carved into the marble rocks in the middle of town provides an amazing sight to see in a beach town. It's made for old timers who can't handle a few steps. Hell there's a lift up to the top if you just don't care for your Fitbit yelling at you for your laziness at all.

All around the bottom are stone carvers and hawkers, flogging anything they can to people wanting their souvenir marble. It's worth pointing out that it's been illegal to sell marble quarried from the Marble mountains themselves since the mid 90's... so either these guys are getting it from somewhere a little less local... or sales have been real slow.

We pulled up to the final stop, our hostel in Hoi An, the Backhome Hostel. The ATM I'd chosen to get the cash out for this trip had only had 50,000 Dong notes available. I needed to go about 4 rounds with this machine to get the several Million we needed to pay and had something a small drug-lord on a Baltimore corner would have considered a decent day's take popping out of my pocket in small bills. Bee laughed as he had to count it all, but I'm a trustworthy guy so all cool and we said our goodbyes, gave him a tip for himself given the amazing day he'd given us and settled down into our new place. Welcome to Hoi An

You can find their tour here

[parkers-gal]

maybe a cute little blurb about tom and the reader announcing they’re engaged to their parents/families?

enjoyyy :)

requests are open

wc: 1.5k (sorry, went overboard with this)

—

Tom gave you no option, really. You had no choice but to love him, to fall for him as hard as you did. Oftentimes, you thought about how inevitable it was, how inevitable he was. You knew his trap was inescapable, but you were too exhilarated, too thrilled with the idea of being his, that you let him trip you. You let him, let him trip you until you fell hard.

If Tom had fallen any harder, he was positive he’d break his nose for the fourth time in five years. But no, he definitely fell, but he didn’t hit rock bottom. He’d fallen for you, and that was the scariest thing in the entire world to him — losing you, falling so hard and fearing if you’d leave. He knew if you did leave, he’d never recover, never truly live the same way.

So he’s asking for you to be his, for forever. Granted, forever is a long time, and that’s almost what Tom loves most about it. He loves calling you his, knowing you’re connected at the hip, in the mind, with your hearts. But he also loves having the security of everyone else knowing it, too.

You love it too — you love what the ring symbolizes. Your Tiffany & Co. ring, a dashing 1.27 carats. You love Tom, and the way his mind works — he didn’t go the traditional route in getting your parents’ blessing and buying a ring. Instead, he’d asked you casually.

“Hey, love.” Tom walks into the kitchen, sitting on the counter beside the stove where you’re heating the kettle for some tea.

“What’s up, baby?”

“Do you… wanna go shopping today?”

“For what?”

“A ring.”

You freeze, glancing up at him with shocked eyes, eyes full with pleasant surprise.

“A ring?”

“For… you. For us- for… marriage?”

“Tommy…” You lean back, mouth open slightly. You can feel tears starting to form, starting to wet your eyes. It’s love — you can feel it — it’s love that’s wetting your eyes, your cheeks, your face. It’s love that causes these happy tears. “What’re you saying?”

“I’m saying…” He jumps off the counter, grabbing both of your hands after coming closer to you, filling up the space between you and him. “That I want you to be mine for… the rest of my life.”

“Tom,” You pout. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That you’ll let me?” His eyes are more hopeful than they’ve ever been in his entire life. Even more so than when he’d auditioned for Spider-man. He’s practically on his knees for you, sacrificing his heart in return for yours. “That you’ll let me be yours?”

You break into a smile, arms wrapping around his neck, lips by his ear as you whisper your response, feverishly and softly and passionately. “Of course, I’ll let you. You’ve always been mine.”

That day, the two of you went into Tiffany & Co. together, pointing at the jewels and bands and accessories with smiles wider than the Grand Canyon. You had a feeling, later on, that perhaps every store worker was watching the two of you, watching your love bounce off the walls of the fancy shop. They were watching you with jealous eyes, with proud eyes, that you were taking this large step together, and decided to include them in just a small piece of your journey together.

It’s been a month since then, and for the first time ever, you’re wearing your ring out in public. You’re having dinner with Tom’s family and your own family. It’s your parents’ anniversary — at least, last week it was, but they decided to celebrate with connected family later on — which means close family is gathering for a small dinner party.

“Don’t get cold feet on me.” Tom’s chin rests in the crook of your neck as he hugs you from behind. You’re looking in the full-length body mirror, adjusting your clothes as you slip the engagement ring on your finger like you’ve done so many times when you’re alone.

“Never, Tommy.” You return his smile, turning around in his arms and leaning to give him a soft kiss. It’s not a peck, but it’s not messy — it’s passionate and intimate and everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s what you’ve dreamed of, fantasized, read in every romance novel you could get your hands on.

It’s easy, being in love with Tom. It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done and the most difficult thing in the world. It’s hard when everybody wants to be in your place, when everybody wants to be his. But it’s easy, knowing that he’d never trade his place for anything in the universe. If he’s not by your side, then he’s betrayed everything he’s ever told himself.

He’s complete by your side. That’s cliche, and even he knows it, but nothing has ever felt so true to him. Nothing has ever felt so right.

You lock the front door, holding your potato quiche with two hands as you make your way to the car. Tom sets the gift bag in the backseat before opening the passenger for you. You smile, thanking him, and he steals a cheek kiss before closing the door. You chuckle, setting the quiche on your lap as you buckle your seat belt. He does the same, buckling his seatbelt and shifting the gear, leaving the driveway before offering you his hand.

You accept it, interlocking your fingers. He blushes at the gesture, giddy inside. There’s something so intimate about affection in an act as simple as driving or even cleaning the dishes. There’s something so knee weakening about needing to feel someone against your skin in the simplest of acts. Against your skin in a raw way that isn’t animalistic, passionate yet not feverishly or greedy. There’s something so butterfly-provoking about displays of love in settings that aren’t even romantic.

It’s suffocating yet addicting at the same time. He’s addicting, but not as much as you.

As you get closer to the front door of the Holland household, you find yourself covering your hands with the sleeves of your hoodie. As you enter the house, you’re too caught up in greetings and hugs and food and people to realize you haven’t let the piece of jewelry show.

Dinner hasn’t even been served yet and you’re already growing hot and sweaty. You’re sipping wine, leaning against the fireplace with Tom’s arm around your waist. He’s calmly sipping beer, fingers ever present on your skin. As he leaves yet another kiss against the underside of your ear, you feel urged to ask to make the announcement now, rather than during dessert.

“Can we… tell them now?”

“Really?” He pauses his latest kiss against your neck, whispering back to you. When you nod, he smiles and mirrors your headshake. “May I take your jacket then, kind lady?” He puts on a Victorian accent and you giggle.

“If you insist.”

As your arms are stripped of the hoodie, you hand it off to him for safekeeping in the coat closet. When he returns to your side, your hands are behind your back, waiting for Tom to gather everyone’s attention.

“Hey, everyone, there’s uh- there’s something we’d like to talk about with everyone.”

As Harry raises a brow, he makes eye contact with his twin who hollers for Nikki to come in from the kitchen for a moment. Your parents are bewildered, as is your sister and Harrison.

With a final look at Tom, you smile as Nikki settles onto the arm of a chair Dominic is sitting in. You hold up your left hand, proudly showing off the newest ring to your collection. Your mom gasps first, and Nikki stands up quickly when she realizes what she’s seeing.

Paddy looks at Tom for positivity on what this means, and he can only smirk with a blush brighter than the star he named after you. All in a matter of seconds, your mothers are running towards you, Harrison and Sam and Harry screaming in excitement, in congratulations. Tom is hugging your father, shaking his hand nervously.

Your sister is next to see you, pulling you into her embrace with a teary smile and happy eyes. “You’re… gonna be married.”

You laugh, nodding as you try not to cry too. “Yeah.”

“So he’s the one, huh?”

“Yeah,” You eye Tom, who’s talking to your mother and your sister’s husband. “He’s… the only one.”

When you turn your head back in your sister’s direction, she’s looking at you with soft eyes and an adoring smile. You try not to get flustered, but when you look at Tom again, he’s looking at you already, all the way from across the living room.

He’s smiling in a way he never has before, looking at you as if you’re the only person he’s ever laid eyes on. Goosebumps raise on your skin, a chill sent straight up your spine, and suddenly, you know you’re meant to do this for the rest of your life.

#husband!tom hollland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #tom holland fluffy #tom holland angst #tom holland #tom holland x y/n

[bakingandbooks3]

A Court of Song and Serpents

A bit short but the begging of a project I'm SO excited for- hope you love this as much as I do.

Summary: What a time to be alive as Nesta Archeron, going backward to move forward and finding that the places she once called home are now empty tombs.

Nesta

Nesta held her breath for a moment, a pause, and stilled entirely. The Court of Nightmares. She knew the verdict would be severe, but never would she have expected exile to a world of terror. The horrors of that place, of how it was once the main residence of the High Lord- till Rhysand.

Rhysand, the man who boasted of lands bountiful with choice and reason, now sat across from her donning unmasked hatred. A look he kept shielded from his mate, reserved just for Nesta. The kind that rips one apart from the inside out, would carve out the belly of a beast, burn a witch on a wooden pyre.

Nesta felt nothing, she always did. It wasn’t hard to see what he was thinking of her, how his beautiful wife’s wretched sister was little more than a gambling thief who slept her way through his glorious city. Now, fingers smeared that blank canvas so pure of her darkest shades.

Eyes flicking back, she studied that same sister. The Cursebreaker, the Savior.

How small and insignificant she became next to the glimmering shining thing Feyre was. The lands spoke of her beauty and kind touch, and how she sacrificed everything to save a world of people, and Fae that she was raised to despise.

Nesta wished it’d be known that her touch wasn’t always kind.

She built her bricks firm enough that her house of grace never shattered; Held firm, it was all she had left in her. Too many eyes on her filled with grief, excitement, retribution-Nesta was keenly aware of how this Court of Dreams felt of her.

“This is an exile.”

Rhysand's smirk peaked so slightly, his mate tensing.

“No, no. This is an intervention, a chance for you to find yourself away from bad influences and habits. You can’t keep living like this, and I refuse to let it continue happening and I take the fall for it. Your decisions are impractical and immoral. You are sober much less than you are drunk and-”

“If you’re going to condemn me, do it. But don’t sit here and act as if this is out of kindness.” Nesta snarled. She hated the barbed words, but it’s what she felt. “Who are you to question my morality?”

“I think I can speak for my wife when I say that your presence here is….” Rhysand growled but pulled back, like he forgot Feyre was right there, too.

Nesta wished he would’ve let go, so maybe that facade Rhys reserved for Feyre was broken. No, that’s cruel. As much as she hated this and him, he was making her sister happy.

Something Nesta could never do.

“I do not give a shit what my presence is doing. The decision has already been made, so stop scolding me like a child and make good on your word, Rhysand.” Bile rose in her throat, the words feeling nothing but slimy and disgusting. Foreign, yet habitual all the same. Sometimes, she forgets there once was a woman called Nesta who was so much more than the viper living in her now.

Sometimes she remembers that she can’t ever be her again.

Home was nowhere for her, not in a person, not in a place, certainly not in this bombastic group of “heroes”. Nesta didn’t need a hero, she just needed someone to care. But Nesta knew better, no one would. She was taught to be unlovable, just a woman to be sold off and married- to climb her mothers' ever-growing social ladder.

But Nesta on her own was never enough, even with her mother six feet under and rotted away there were unsung expectations unmet. She was a catastrophic failure and a dark smear on a family name that never truly held weight to her.

Nesta looked up, felt everything all at once again, could only see one man pacing a worn-through tether between them. He wasn’t going to stop this, but she could see it, how it looked like he wanted to jump out of his own flesh, the veins of his arm prominent and knuckles normally so brown a new fresh fallen snow.

There was no prince to save Nesta, much less any will to save herself. So when Mor took the pleasure of bringing her to a living Hell, Nesta did not fight.

She was tired of fighting, after all, she fought an inescapable fate for the first twenty years of her life…

Flowers always made Nesta sneeze, but Elain lit like lights during winter whenever she could thread them through her hair. They all symbolized something, Laine would say. There are ones for good days, and hard storms, for sunshine and stars.

Nesta was always adorned in flowers that paralleled the estate. Astute, cold, tired, where she was warm, comforting, and smelled like cookies- ones that Celia normally baked for the sisters. She never asked Laine why she picked the ones for her that she did, her reasons would stay silent for now.

Spring was a high time of activity in the Archeron estate. There was always a flurry of activity, from preparing their mothers' obscene balls, to guests at every corner in every room. The halls were sprinkled in candles and on walls hung frames nearly kissing it was packed so tight.

They were in the gardens. It was an Elain day, as the girls would call it, and no matter how boring or mundane her wishes were they’d be fulfilled. Nesta was propped on the floor in front of Laine, who was bunching handfuls to weave in tangled auburn coils that gathered on Nesta’s head- as a bird's nest would.

Eventually, Nesta would have to learn braids or risk knotting the curls entirely.

The eldest basked in the silence she created from mentally muting her middle sister, and spared a glance at Feyre. What she saw was not surprising, but required far more willpower than she expected to not burst into laughter and risk the flowery rat's nest on her scalp.

Feyre appeared to be so bored out of her mind she was eating discarded flowers of Elains. Actually, ingesting them, as if she was a critique. When Elain wasn’t looking at Feyre, she’d grab another couple and study them- analyzing her next experiment. Glaring at the blues and yellows as if she was speaking to them, “Which one of you will make me puke the fastest so I can run away?”

In time, Feyre looked up from her taste tests to see Nesta grinning at her so violently you’d think Feyre hung the moon.

And Feyre beamed back, crossing a pinkie across her chest and pointing it back to Nesta. Then she viciously spit out the grass she’d just finished chewing, crying directly at Laine, “This MUST stop at once, my stomach hurts far too much to continue on here.”

Elain, in a garden so quiet, simply ignored her sister's poor attempts at escape. Making Nesta work even harder to stifle the shaking of her shoulders, covering her mouth and nose before she started wheezing. Elain would hardly hurt a fly but sent Nesta a glare that could’ve easily killed a man.

Nesta cleared her throat, “I do believe there are more of the blue flowers down that hill near the pond. Would you mind getting some more for Laine?”

Feyre was already on her feet, mouthing her thanks as Elain turned her back to get the next bunch of flowers, “Why of course I will!” And with a very bad curtsey, Feyre threw off her shoes and was rolling down the hill, spinning wildly, her laughter sure to be heard in meadows far beyond theirs.

You would find the Archeron sisters all together, or never in the same place.

Laine was the easiest to find, by the waters or pond on the east side, in gardens surrounded with bugs and willows calling to the young girl. She could hardly read but if the text included any mention of colors and blooms, suddenly she was a scholar. Elain was not simple or dull, but rather a passive spirit, like a summer wind- brief, fleeting, but teeming with love and hope.

Feyre, as their mother said, was a reckless wild child. Far too young to care, far too small to be whipped into shape. If you were sent to find her and your life depended on it, may the Mother bless you. Feyre liked the kitchen, because of the immaculate food and maids who would shove any sweet down the littlest Archerons throat. But, also for the immeasurable amount of sharp items to be found in there. If it was pointy and could stab a wall or scare their ice-cold mother, Feyre would be running the halls with it in hand or making targets of her fathers old trade route maps.

Then there was Nesta, the firstborn. Molded to be another woman that she somehow couldn’t fit, as if her feet were too big or hair too long, Nesta was outgrowing the standards forged into her being. You would see her as a ghost, floating in and out of rooms, comfortable in silence and slumber, but never escaping people. She loved the maids and could recite all of their names like clockwork, and the workers loved her in turn. Always stuck in new worlds between pages or willingly dragged by the two youngers, Nesta teemed with liberation. She was often alone, but never lonely, and found new loves in the library or in the fields beyond marble confines.

Adela was constantly dissatisfied with her eldest's progress inside these walls, as if at eight she should’ve already been engaged to a prince. Granted, Adela knew better. Nesta would never truly find another kingdom to buy into when she already had a crown waiting for her elsewhere. She was known as fair and beautiful beyond her years, would age like fine wine, and become so much greater than Adela ever was. What Nesta saw as fit would normally come to be, an instinct Adela was unprepared she would inherit. Nothing left her more confused than this daughter only by blood, who was hated by both her parents for reasons far from the same, and how at less than ten years had an entire mansion wrapped around her fingers.

But Adela would wait, and simply leave them be for now. When viper's strike, they kill. And even though the Matron of the house wanted her little queen gone, she had other ways to see this through.

Anyways, children's blood on her hands would stain her diamonds.

---

Cassian

Cassian was violently fucking ill. Watching whatever the fuck that was did not help in the slightest. The second she was gone, so was he.

The General and High Lord were not on speaking terms, his presence was an obligation and not a request. When Rhys first displayed his plans, Cassian just about murdered him. Had his brother on the table in a chokehold that the Shadowsinger had to come and release Rhys from. The way his so-called family planned her exile was… horrific.

Cassian was full of light and humor, but not dull the way his family made him out to be. He could see this for what it was, punishing an already broken female for not meeting every damn need of a fully grown woman that was no longer her responsibility. Cass knew better than to downplay the sacrifices Feyre made, but he was also well aware that Nesta's habits were hardly a financial problem and more of a reputation scandal.

That’s what the High Lord did best, when his Court was breaking at the bonds, the mess would “disappear”. Just like the Illyrians hidden in the mountains, the displaced families of Spring, the homeless warriors of Night.

Cassian loved his brother, but more often than not he wondered when Fate would come to bite them in the asses for Rhys’ neglect.

Now, here he was, in his mothers' cabin, wings dragging behind him wiping tears long since shed over a woman who was thrown to the wolves and torn into so many scraps he wasn’t sure how he could put her together again.

He missed his Nesta, the one who threw glares and begged for her people, not this one who hardly spoke and caved into herself enough that she couldn’t see where she was heading.

Cassian fingered for his mug in the wooden cabinets and hit his mark, soon placing water to heat over a small fire over the counter.

He was not okay, not okay at all.

When you look for something in the dark for too long, you eventually find what you need but not always in the way you expect. Cassian coped the same as Nesta Archeron in his first years post-war. It was suffocating trying to be the happy one while dying inside. He watched men he looked up to fall and a lover he admired take her last breath- too much in far too little time. Cassian was not an idiot, he was simply perplexed. Why was he allowed to grieve in unacceptable manners, but Nesta was a sinner in holy clothing?

Bright walls and unlit rooms in the house were silent, only the winds of the mountains singing outside. The newly dusted snow wrapped the dirt in a delicate kiss- a forbidden touch. It was the peak of winter, just after Feyre’s birthday and another insufferable party.

One that Nesta wasn’t invited to.

Cassian wished he wasn’t invited either.

The cup in his hands was dwarfed in comparison to the bulky Illyrian holding it, but at least it was warm. At least it wasn’t empty.

Because if there was one thing he knew, it could always be worse.

Cassian knew that if things were a little different, he’d be the one sitting in a prison of darkness and Hell because of mistakes made as a child. He’d be exiled by family, cast away by the only living remains of a life once lived.

Nesta didn’t know but long before this he had called it even, their sins atoned for in hurting each other equally.

She was the only one in the world who could tell which smiles he was faking.

To anyone on the outside, one kiss was merely that. How curious it was, the iceberg went far deeper.

So when the mug crashed against the wall, and in its wake resembled his inner turmoil, Cassian took to the skies and found himself at the door of a place far too familiar.

.

.

.

AHHHHHHHH OMG OKAY hope you guys enjoyed this:) if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!

@lovemeforever12345 @champanheandluxxury @nahthanks@perseusannabeth@queenestarcheron@silvernesta

@loosingdreams@sayosdreams@audreycressworth@cyra04@that-golden-lyre@nessiantrashh@misswonderflower@dontgetsalmonella@caram267@bickbickbarnes@sabrinasam-blog

#acotar #cassian #nessian #acomaf #acowar #acosf #a court of silver flames #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #nesta #acosf rewrite #bab writes #azriel #elain #feyre acotar #feyre archeron #rhysand #anti rhysand #okay it’s not really anti guys it just starts that way #so like bear with me #to have development you gotta bash them first #you know? #anyways love y’all

[aomineavenue]

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: completed. | series masterlist

↩ at peace | dearest daddy

mia speaks!: 

okay, wow. So it took awhile for us to get here and I apologize for that but we’re finally done with Homesick, wew. It’s been a challenge but I’m so happy and grateful for all the positivity you guys have been sharing with me. Also, thank you so much for your patience. 

It’s been an emotional ride but we’re finally done. There may be a few short stories after this chapter but no promises. Hopefully I get the chance to though, I do want to be able to. But for now, if you guys have any requests for imagines/scenarios with this series, don’t be afraid to send them over!

Also, big thanks to @oii-sugasan​ and @sunshinesero​ for beta-reading this for me! I apologize if this chapter is any way lacking compared to the first nine chapters, it’s been awhile since I wrote anything so I hope this was a great way to end this series. 

I love you guys so much, I’m so glad to be (sorta) back. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Time was a funny and fickle thing. Sometimes there was never enough of it, and other times it stretched out endlessly. It had been seven months since your life had once again made drastic changes. It often surprised you how time flew by so fast.

Seven months since your two precious boys had been introduced to the man that they now call their father. And well, seven months since you had been reunited with the love of your life. Sure, it had ups and downs, it wasn’t bound to be perfect since the two of you were your own person. It was inevitable for such different personalities to clash, it didn’t help when there were two children present, one of them being as handful as their own father.

Atsumu had shown that he was a doting father, despite only being a part of their lives for less than a year, he had put his new family as his top priority, wanting to make up for lost time. He would instantly drop anything and everything, sometimes even volleyball when he could for times when his family needed him. Not that his new family had been a burden since then, his sons and of course you, have been nothing but loving and supportive. Showing up to games to cheer him on and the twins attending his training to either join or just watch their father and new favorite uncles.

It had been a rollercoaster ride since it was officially announced that Atsumu was off the market and that he actually had sons. Some fans were supportive, believing the news and claiming that both the young twins were striking replicas of the volleyball player. And of course, there were fans that were against it, raging how you were nothing more than a money-grabbing harlot and that you had probably lied to Atsumu about the twins being his.

They were quickly shut down, of course, by not just fans but various people close to the volleyball setter who defended you without you even asking for it. You weren’t going to lie, that particular month filled with venomous words thrown your direction stressed you out but it was mostly because of your motherly instincts, wanting to keep your sons away from such unnecessary drama. You and Atsumu had decided to ignore the majority of the vile comments but seeing you so emotionally exhausted had only fueled the already tiny flame in Atsumu. He was quick to announce that he would no longer tolerate any form of slander towards his family and would handle things legally if anyone were to step out of line.

And by the next few weeks, the hate simmered and the stress that had engulfed you and Atsumu in its grip had vanished. All that was left that made you both worry was Atsuhiro’s health.

Fortunately, Atsuhiro’s sickness didn’t grow worse as time passed by since his first transfusion. If anything, the boy was healthier and it was very much evident in his features. The healthy glow returned to his skin, he was smiling more and had shown his usual energetic-self like before he had fallen ill. Atsumu on the other hand, much to Atsuhiro’s dismay, had started becoming such an overprotective father. It took a lot of begging from Atsuhiko for their father to spend the day outside of the protective bubble of your apartment.

It took time and patience from everyone’s side to get this far, and for Atsumu, (and of course, you) he didn’t mind it one bit. He had grown more mature, despite his twin brother’s disagreements, he not only took care of himself more but he had become a role model to his sons.

Not only that, but as his relationship with his sons grew stronger, the love the two of you had for each other only seemed to intensify as well. Sure, the two of you had ups and downs back then in your friendship but it was as if time and distance hadn’t kept the two of you apart. If anything, it was as if it made your bond stronger. Two best friends, reuniting and finally expressing their true desires, it was easy for the two of you to fall into a comfortable routine.

“Where are the boys of the hour? I’ve been wanting to see how good Hiko looks in my jersey!”

Bokuto interrupts your thoughts for a brief second before you return your focus to your duties of cutting up the vegetables in the kitchen. You can’t help but chuckle at the sour expression that graces Atsumu’s expression as he fills a tray of refreshments on one of the island counters. “Don’t remind me, Bo-kun.”

“You’re just jealous that your sons didn’t want to wear your jersey," he teases, a playful grin on his lips as he lifts himself off of the ground by his hands to sit on the counter.

The scowl on Atsumu's face only deepens at the reminder, "Get off the counter, Bo-kun. Don't be rude. Why don't you actually start to help and give out these refreshments to the guests?"

You watch in amusement as the two exchange their usual banter around the kitchen of your home in Hyogo. It was decided a week ago after Atsuhiro's second transfusion was a success, that the twins would celebrate their birthday back at Hyogo instead of having the guests cramp up in your small apartment in Kanagawa.

It was also then decided by your sons what theme they would be having for their birthday. It was traditional for the twins to have their birthdays themed depending on their current interest. Lately, since the two were very fixated on volleyball due to their new favorite uncles and of course, their father, it was decided that they would be having a volleyball themed birthday where the guests were required to wear their favorite player's jersey.

For a minute, your new friend Bokuto had been rather excited upon hearing the idea.

"So show up with our own jerseys? Great!"

And as for Atsumu, he was excited at the prospect of seeing his own sons wearing his jersey. That is, until his sons destroyed such dreams.

"Are the two of you really sure?" you hear Atsumu's voice echoing from the twins' bedroom throughout the walls of the apartment as you stepped inside, shutting the door behind you as you ventured further into the comforts of your home. “Like really? Those are your choices?”

You grew curious as you slipped out of your shoes and let your hair loose from its tight bun, wincing slightly from your tugging. There was a tinge of whininess dripping from Atsumu’s voice that you couldn’t help but wonder what the three of them were talking about. It wasn’t unusual for Atsumu to be around when you had to work on days where the boys came home from school or when they didn’t have school.

At most times, when Atsumu didn't have training, he would be the one taking care of the boys instead of your mother or Osamu. Majority of his free time away from volleyball was spent with his sons, wanting to make up for the time he had lost. And there wasn't a day where the young twins wouldn't ask about their father and if he was going to visit. It was as if they were scared one of them would disappear, wanting to spend the entirety of their lives together.

"Maybe we can go with superheroes this year!" Atsumu's voice grew louder as you reached the door to the room where they occupied. Leaning against the door's frame, your eyes land on the back of Atsumu's head as he's seated on the carpeted floor facing the twins who were playing with their action figures. A small grin curling upon your lips at the sight of Atsumu’s slightly dishevelled bleached hair.

Atsuhiro, who seems to have the ability to sense your presence, looks up from his toys and in an instant, his eyes widen happily. He was about to greet you but you quickly pressed your index finger against your lips to signal the little boy not to announce your presence just yet, wanting to see Atsuhiko and Atsumu's interaction. The smart little boy that he is, nods and returns to his toys.

"But daddy," Atsuhiko protests, his focus still on the action figures in his hands, "We did superheroes last year! I wanna wear Uncle Bo's jersey!"

You fight the urge to burst out into a fit of giggles as soon as you catch a glimpse of Atsumu slumping his shoulders dejectedly. Now you understand as to why he had his moppy voice on. "But don't you want to wear daddy's jersey for your birthday?"

"But daddy," Atsuhiko lets out a sigh, looking up at his father with a look that meant the little boy wasn't up for any arguments on the matter, "Uncle Bo is the best! So I wanna wear his jersey!"

You could have sworn you heard Atsumu whine, suddenly wishing you had decided to film this from the start. "But it will make daddy really happy if you wear his jersey!"

Atsuhiko shakes his head as he continues to play with his action figures, "But I want Uncle Bo and I to match!"

Atsumu sighs in defeat before turning his attention over to Atsuhiro, looking hopeful. "What about you, Hiro? Would you wear daddy's jersey?"

"No, daddy. I wanna wear Kageyama-san's jersey," he nods with a proud smile, "Wanna be just like him! He's so good!"

"But daddy's just as good a setter as Tobio-kun!" Atsumu cries out, throwing his hands up in the air, "betrayed by my own children. 'Samu isn't going to let me live this down."

This time, you let your presence be known by finally releasing a bubble of laughter. Atsuhiko instantly drops his action figures and rushes over with a happy squeal. Atsumu pivots his body, looking up at you with such a pitiful gaze as he juts his lower lips out ot a pout, "I want new children."

Needless to say, Atsumu had been pouty ever since and has been dreading today due to the reason that every single one of his friends had found out about it. He had tried a handful of times to change their minds, unfortunately, the young twins won't budge.

“It’s not my fault your kids like me better than you,” he huffs, folding his arms across his chest, “I am an ordinary ace after all!”

A scowl graces on Atsumu’s features which causes the other occupants in the room to chuckle in amusement. It wasn’t as if Atsumu didn’t like the idea of his sons becoming close to his teammates, but lately, it was getting harder for the setter to share. “Get your own children!”

“Ah, about that...” Bokuto trails off with a nervous chuckle which causes everyone to fall silent and look at him in curiosity, “I actually will be getting my own child soon, I think.”

“You think?” you ask with an arched brow, “You can’t just think you’re having a child, Bokuto-san.”

Atsumu interjects, “And aren’t you in love with that best friend of yours? What happened to never being with anyone else but her?”

He waves his hand in the air dismissively with a frown etched on his lips, “Well, I can’t exactly be with her when she just got married.”

“You are so getting your ear torn off by the management when this news gets out,” Atsumu snickers, which he earns a smack to his shoulder from you. “Ow!”

You narrow your gaze at your boyfriend, completely unamused with his behavior. “Don't be dramatic, I didn't hit you that hard!" Letting out a huff as you wipe your hands on the apron you were wearing, "You aren’t helping Bokuto, ‘Tsumu.”

His lips curl up to a cheeky grin at the sight of your expression. He leans forward to nuzzle his nose against your cheek, your cheeks growing warm from the public display of affection. His heart swells from your reaction to his gesture, murmuring teasingly, “Sorry, darling.”

“Please, don’t make me barf.” Osamu interrupts with his features scrunched up in distaste from the interaction between you and his brother.

Atsumu sticks his tongue out at his brother who returns the gesture with a shake of his head. His arm snakes around your waist to pull you closer to his side as he returns his attention over to his teammate, “Well, is the woman making you marry her?”

“Making you pay for child support?” Osamu quickly adds.

Atsumu quips with a chuckle, “Threatening to expose your sins?”

You interrupt the two with a glare towards them, “Stop ganging up on him!”

Bokuto lets out a laugh as he begins helping your mother set up the desserts onto one of the trays to bring outside to the guests, “Nothing like that, she’s pretty chill and we’ve gotten pretty close lately. So we’re going to co-parent.”

“That’s very mature of you, Bokuto-kun.” your mother compliments him with a smile before patting his back.

He feels his cheeks grow warm from the compliment, his heart swelling with pride. “Thank you.”

“Maybe you’ll end up falling for her anyway,” Osamu teases with a smirk playing on his lips, leaning against one of the kitchen counters.

He shakes his head at the idea as his brows knit together, “Jess and I won’t fall in love.”

“Jess?” Atsumu blinks at the familiar name before his eyes widens at the realization, releasing his grip from your waist, “Jess, that journalist that you showed around town when she first visited Japan?”

Bokuto nods with a smile gracing his features, “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

“Maybe you’ll learn to love her in your own way through your child,” you suggest with a shrug of your shoulders as you began untying the apron you were wearing upon realizing what time it was.

Atsumu shakes his head and responds before Bokuto could utter a single word, “No, no. That’s impossible. Bo-kun’s heart belongs to his best friend.”

“Stop teasing him,” you scold your boyfriend with a shake of your head, handing over the apron you successfully took off, “make yourself useful and help out here in the kitchen,"

"Bu—"

Cutting him off with a stern glare as you lift a tray from one of the kitchen counters and handing it over to Bokuto, a small smile gracing your lips, "Don't mind him, Bo. Can you bring these to the backyard and help out if anyone else needs help? I think Reiji needs a hand setting up the bouncy castle,"

Retrieving the tray from your hands, his eyes lighting up from the excitement, "bouncy castle, you say?"

"That's for the kids, Bo-kun." Atsumu scoffs but soon lets his lips form into a pout when he had been ignored, turning his attention over to you once Bokuto slips out of the kitchen, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to check on the boys to see if they're ready for their big entrance," you muse with an amused grin. Of course, you knew what your sons had prepared for the big entrance that they insisted. Atsumu had pestered both you and the young twins since he had heard of their plan but as your sons refused to budge, you had feigned clueless, claiming that your sons had opted it to be a surprise.

Little did Atsumu know that you had helped your sons pull off such an idea.

"I don't get why they have to have a big entrance," he sighs, brows furrowing as he racks through his thoughts on what the surprise could be. It didn't help that he was both curious and excited at what his sons might pull off.

Osamu lets out a snort, rolling his eyes at his twin brother as a smirk curls upon his lips, "What do you mean? They're your kids."

"What does that even mean?" Atsumu scowls as he slips on the apron you had handed over, walking over to where your mother was situated to take over what you were doing.

You shake your head at the two bickering older twins and shoot a look of sympathy towards your mother that was going to be left with them in the kitchen before she waves you off. Your heart was swelling from happiness at how natural everything felt, despite the silly banter thrown around. It was home.

As you step into your childhood living room, you're hit with a nostalgic wave from the memories surrounding the whole area. Though it may be a mixture of good and bad memories, since you had come to terms that you were no longer running away from your past, you only feel comfort. You made your way through your childhood home over to the bedroom that had been renovated to the liking of your twin boys.

The mere thought of your boys growing to love the place where you had grown up yourself was enough to bring a smile to your face. You press your knuckles against the wooden door to signal your presence by knocking on it repeatedly, “Are you two ready?” you ask, your voice probably muffled on the other side. Your fingers wrap around the handle of the door and as you were about to twist and push it open, the door instantly snaps back shut with a loud thud. “Can’t-”

“No, mommy!” Atsuhiko screeched causing you to blink from both the surprised force and tone. Pressing your palms and ear against the door to hear what the commotion was all about, you frown upon hearing only their shuffling feet, “What are you two doing? Guests have arrived and your party will be starting soon,”

“We’re almost ready, mommy!” Atsuhiro assures you from the other side.

A chuckle escapes your lips at their antics as you decide to not interfere any further, “Alright you two, just be sure to be out in a few. You don’t want your daddy to come fetch you. It’ll ruin the surprise.”

“Okay mommy!” you heard Atsuhiko yell out, their excited muffled voices purely obvious from the other side that you couldn’t help but smile.

On the other hand, back in the kitchen, the father of your twins was having his own little dilemma back in the kitchen. It wasn’t as if he was uncomfortable being around your mother, but it was more like he felt he was still lacking.

Despite him knowing that your mother and you hadn’t had the greatest relationship when your father passed away, he still wanted to be someone your mother would approve of. He didn’t know whether your mother knew the whole story of the relationship between the two of you but being away from you and your sons during most of their childhood was enough to make him worry. The mere idea of his sons looking up to him sent his heart soaring, but of course, he also wanted your mother to feel secure enough for him to be together with you and the twins.

“I’ll bring out these sliced up fruits outside,” Osamu cuts the clear tension surrounding the kitchen. Atsumu resists the urge to glare at his twin for leaving him behind with your mother, knowing full well that his brother knows his current insecurities. A small smirk graces Osamu’s features but not the obvious one that would make your mother notice.

Atsumu watches his twin slip out of the kitchen with a tray full of food for the guests before flickering his gaze over to your mother situated at the other side of the room, making final touches to the cupcakes. “Is there anything else that I can do?”

Without looking up, a smile etches on your mother’s face. “No, it’s fine. We’re just about done with everything.”

“It looks good,” he states with a nod of his head, not really knowing what to say.

Placing the piping bag to the side, your mother lifts her head up to look towards the direction of Atsumu and wipes her hands on the apron she’s currently wearing, “You know you can always start calling me mom.”

The mere sentence made Atsumu want to leap in excitement, but at the same time he was nervous, a sudden fear of messing things up engulfing him. “I don’t want to overste-”

“Oh please,” your mother waves her hand in the air with a light chuckle, “I’ve known you since you were eight. We’re practically family. So you might as well call me mom.”

Atsumu couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth tug up to a wide smile, “Alright, mom.”

“I’m really happy that the two of you decided to work things out,” your mother spoke with a smile as she delicately places the cupcakes on the cupcake stand.”

His feet shuffled across the room to help your mother stack the cupcakes onto the stand, “We had to for the kids anyway.”

Your mother hums in thought for a second before responding, “I think the kids were just the push the two of you needed. If anything, I’ve always thought the two of you would always end up together since the two of you always leaned on each other for anything.”

He nods his head slowly, leaning against the counter as he feels his heart swell with happiness. “I guess you’re right, mom. I did lean on her majority of the time when we were growing up. I guess I still am now. I just wish I could make her happy.”

“Don’t worry, you do. Before she left Hyogo, I know for a fact that she was miserable in this house after her dad had passed. You were the only one giving her a reason to move forward,” your mother spoke, sadness dripping from her voice.

A sigh escapes Atsumu’s lips as his features scrunch up to something that resembles pain. “I was also the reason why she left. I may be even the biggest reason why she left.”

Your mother extends an arm out and places a hand on Atsumu’s arm, trying her best to give assurance and comfort, “You weren’t the only reason behind that. I don’t know if she’s told you, but I had neglected her. I’m not proud of it and apologies are probably never enough for forgiveness. I was barely a mother when my husband had passed. I was almost an empty shell and instead of being a moth-”

“Mom,” Atsumu cuts her off and grabs hold of her hand in his own, “Don’t blame yourself. She loves you very much. It’s all in the past. We’ll be able to move forward, we already are.”

The two were interrupted with Osamu’s arrival, knocking by the kitchen’s door frame to announce his return. A smile etched on his lips at the scene before him, “Hey, Y/N wants everyone in the living room. Apparently the boys are ready to make their big entrance.”

Your mother excuses herself as soon as she removes the apron tied around her, excitement clearly evident in her features. Atsumu knew it well, despite the relationship that you had been slowly rebuilding with your mother, she was just as excited as him to have the twins into her life. She has equally doted on, if not more, on the twins ever since and well, Atsumu wouldn’t have it any other way.

Atsumu knew for a fact that you adored the time you’ve been sharing with your mother. As long as you were happy, nothing else mattered.

Osamu gives him a pat on the back, arching a brow in curiosity as they make their way out of the kitchen, “Everything alright?”

Atsumu gives him a nod, giving him the largest grin that he could muster. “Yeah, definitely.”

“You look disgusting,” Osamu jokes, pretending to shudder which causes Atsumu to give him a shove as they step into the living room where most of the guests have already gathered.

“Hey ‘tsumu!” Bokuto calls out from next to you as soon as Atsumu comes into view. “Hurry up! I’m excited to see Hiko in my jersey!”

Atsumu rolls his eyes as he approaches, grumbling to himself. As soon as he reaches your side, he places a quick kiss to your temple before snaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Yeah, yeah. You have to stop rubbing it in. We get it.”

You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape your lips as you lean yourself into Atsumu’s warmth, “Oh come on now you two, focus on the big entrance will you?”

Bokuto just snickers from the side while Atsumu sends him a glare. If you were to describe the two of them, they were practically acting like petty children but you know those two will eventually switch attitudes as soon as your twins step out to make their entrance.

You flicker your gaze over to Osamu who was situated a few steps ahead from your little group, trying his best to act natural with his phone up. The two of you had discussed prior to the party that he would be the one to film the whole thing going on. Your little boys had practically begged their uncle to film their big entrance but mostly, what you hoped Osamu to capture was Atsumu’s reaction.

A part of you expects that he would be a grinning mess at the sight of his kids but also, you’re also hoping he’d be speechless from all the teasing his kids put him through of having to wear someone else’s jersey.

“What’s taking them so long?” Atsumu asks, tilting his head slightly hoping to meet your eyes as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

As you were about to answer him, the familiar voices of your two boys echo throughout the room from the top of the stairs. You didn’t even have to look to know about their surprise since you know very well of what they had planned. Well, obviously, you had helped them out with picking up the jerseys that they were going to wear.

However, you had wanted to capture Atsumu’s reaction to your boys with your own two eyes instead of just watching it from a video. And honestly speaking, you didn’t think you’d fall in love with this man any more than you already do but here you are.

Just the mere sight of his features scrunching up to a look of awe was enough for your heart to swell. It looked as if he was close to tears as watches the twins descend the stairs with the prodest smiles they could muster.

You pry yourself away from his side as soon as the twins approach Atsumu, knowing full well what was going to happen as they had practiced what they were going to say. Flickering your gaze over to Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro, seeing them in Atsumu’s high school volleyball jersey made your own eyes water despite the fact that you were the ones who had gotten them the uniform a week ago.

“Wh-What are you guys wearing?” Atsumu almost chokes out his words, “What happened to the jerseys that we bought that you said you were going to wear?”

Atsuhiko throws his arms out in the air, smiling widely. “We changed daddy!”

“We wanna wear your jersey daddy,” Atushiro nods his head enthusiastically, lifting his hand up to grip onto Atsumu’s shirt.

Atsuhiko wraps his arms around Atsumu’s waist, “‘cause you’re our favorite volleyball player daddy!”

The scene itself was enough for everyone to watch in awe, a few of the guests that were invited had their own phones up to capture the moment with smiles on their faces, the others were almost practically in tears themselves, and well there was also Bokuto by the side with his pouty self at the realization that neither of his nephews were wearing his jersey like he thought they would. Atsumu on the other hand, had eventually dropped down to his knees and wrapped his arms around his two boys, burying his face in between them as he let out his own tears stream down his face from the overwhelming joy that coursed through him.

Yes, this is your family.

This is your home.

You stare out the window from the kitchen of your childhood home, a smile on your face at the beautiful afternoon of your backyard full with people you adore and have missed so much. 

The party was still in full swing despite the sun about to set, the laughter from the guests and a few children present rang in the air. Happiness had engulfed your heart and honestly, you had trouble believing it yourself but here you were. 

You wouldn’t trade this for anything. 

An arm snakes around your waist from behind and you would have been startled if you hadn’t felt Atsumu’s presence a minute ago. Despite not having seen each other in years, everything about him was still familiar. Sure, there were a few things about him that you didn’t know but that didn’t mean that he still wasn’t your Atsumu that you’ve grown to love. 

“Thank you,” he whispers as he nuzzles his nose into your hair, a smile playing on his lips. 

You place your hands atop of his and lean yourself back into his warmth, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you thanking me for?” 

“For everything,” he lets out a sigh, causing a shiver to run down your spine from the heat radiating from his breath close to your ear, “For giving me two amazing boys and for existing yourself.” 

Pivoting your body around so that you were facing Atsumu, your hands settling on his chest as you look up at him with your lips curling up to an assuring smile, “Thank you.” 

“And what for?” Atsumu questions, matching your own smile with his own as his hands cup your face. He lowers his head slowly, nudging your nose with his own as the pads of his thumbs brush delicately against your skin. 

Heat spreads across your cheeks at his gestures, feeling shy yourself but despite that, the majority of what you felt was only comfort in being in his arms. “For loving me as much as I love you.” 

He hums in response, placing a quick kiss to your lips. “No, I probably do love you more. More than you can imagine.” 

Before you could respond, he places his lips back firmly on yours and your eyelids flutter shut as if on instinct. The hands of yours that were resting on his chest eventually found their way around his torso to pull him close. Tilting your head to the side, the kiss itself deepens as he runs his fingers through your hair. 

It just felt so natural being with him.

Before the kiss could grow more heated however, a loud yell from outside had interrupted the both of you causing you to pull away much to both of your dismay. Your heads turn towards the direction of the commotion, the bouncy castle coming into view.

Or rather, the depleting bouncy castle with Bokuto and Hinata coming out hastily in laughter. 

You shake your head at the scene, a bubble of laughter leaving your lips before turning your head back over to look at the man before you. Just when you had decided to pull back and return to your duties of being a mother, he wraps his arms back around your waist to pull you back against him. Another laugh escapes your lips as you playfully slap his chest, “What now? We have a party going on, we have to entertain our gue-” 

“Move in with me,” he interrupts, his features showing nothing but seriousness. 

You meet his sincere gaze with your own and your heart makes a leap out of joy. There was only one answer you could possibly give. 

“Yes.”

#atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya imagine #atsumu miya #homesick #atsumu miya smau