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#they are of that world. they belong there. even if they don’t. they belong.

thebearer · 3 days

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nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.

based off this prompt from the other day :)

contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.

“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.”

“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line.

“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket.

“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock.

“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval.

“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one.

The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name?

You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week.

Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself.

“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows.

“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.”

Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window.

There you were.

Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high.

“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-”

“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it.

“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned.

“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.”

“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone.

Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it.

From: Richie

‘Look at table nine.’

Sugar huffed.

To: Richie

‘Why? Is there something wrong?’

She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen?

To: Richie

‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’

From: Richie

‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’

Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end.

Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,”

“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.”

“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.”

“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced.

“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.

“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-”

“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.”

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin.

“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge.

“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his.

“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee.

“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.

“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection.

“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.”

Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight.

Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out.

“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue.

“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing.

“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face.

“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded.

“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.”

Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head.

“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.”

Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-”

“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.”

Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?”

“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.”

“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-”

“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered.

Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window.

“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.”

Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger.

This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time.

“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.”

Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?”

“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.”

Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl.

“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called.

Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered.

“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.”

“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?”

“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.”

“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?”

Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.

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vintagepresley · 2 days

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I don’t want to be this person. But I feel like that new Elvis confessions account on here is just a gateway for people to start drama and spew their hate for people in this fandom and how others choose to love Elvis or how they write about Elvis and to basically shove down our throats how to be an Elvis fan “the right way”.

I just saw one of their recent posts about basically the fandom not being the same and how people don’t care about him and how people used to talk about his music and movies. Now people in the fandom only care about writing smut about him and don’t even know his songs or movies. Then saying how calling him “big daddy” is disgusting.

Huh? What? I don’t know what part of the fandom this person is on but we are constantly talking about his music and movies. I feel like most of the people in this fandom have seen all of his movies. But also some can’t depending on where they live in the world so it could be harder for them to watch them. He’s got so much music to listen like you can’t be mad if EVERYONE hasn’t heard every single fucking song. There’s actually some people who just joined and are still learning. It’s not that serious. Stop acting like you weren’t once new to being an Elvis fan.

Why are we acting like people haven’t been writing so much smut stories about him since 2022? Before I even joined the fandom here I was literally reading soooo many smut stories about him around that time. I don’t think that’s changed. There’s so many different stories besides smut. If you don’t like smut guess what? DON’T READ IT BABE. Keep scrolling. There’s so much variety when it comes to Elvis fanfics. It’s not just smut.

Then onto the big daddy thing. That didn’t just become a thing. It’s been a thing for the past two years. How is it disgusting? Lmao. It’s never that serious and honestly no one is being disrespectful when they use that term. That man has big daddy energy. That is never a bad thing, lol.

I swear. People don’t know how to just enjoy things and not taking things so seriously and constantly complaining about literally everything. Why can’t people just enjoy things? I feel like I constantly speak up about this because I’m so tired of people telling people how they should love Elvis or how there’s a wrong and right way. I’m so tired of people making others feel like they don’t belong here. We all love and respect Elvis. We all love learning about him in every aspect of his life. So many of us do so much research and constantly read books on him because we DO see him more than just a “pretty face” more than just an “aesthetic”. He’s a huge part of our lives and we all in some way have a story about how he’s impacted us or what he’s done for us. Doesn’t mean we can’t joke about things or like make unhinged posts. Life doesn’t always have to be taken so seriously.

Lighten up. Elvis would be bothered by how uptight some of you are.

Thank you for coming to my Elvis ted talk. ☺️

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fandom #elvis fans #start being kinder to each other in this fandom

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that-bwitch · 2 days

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but daddy, I love him

summary: your choice of a partner doesn't leave your parents satisfied, seeing as it's Sirius Black, an infamous "blood traitor". does anything have the power to convince them? are you even willing to try?

pairing: sirius black x reader

warning: wizarding bigotry, teenage angst, smoking

wc: 3.8k

a/n: the first of the many inspired by taytay's ttpd. "but daddy I love him" is so sirius coded, I had to.

You wanted to love your family so badly, you truly did. Throughout your whole life your parents had been giving you whatever you needed and wanted – they had the money and they had the power to make your life as simple as the Accio spell. But no one ever stopped to think what it really meant to belong to one of the most ancient pureblood families in the Wizarding World. Everybody always saw the benefits: the new shiny textbooks, the perfectly ironed uniform, owls bringing you the most delicious snacks and rare books relating to your latest interests every week, your bed frame in the dorm decorated to the brim. You appreciated being that privileged, you never failed to thank your parents for the way they brought you up. However, you were fiercely shielded from any outside troubles that could possibly hinder your education and your innocence, as they put it. Ultimately, fate decided to perform its finest display of ruthless irony on you, and your parents’ endless disquietude became the very thing that led to the demise of your relationship with them.

You never expected your dating life to be of such interest to your family, simply thanks to the fact that it was never a question. You hadn’t had any serious partners before, partly due to your tender age, partly due to your own indifference to finding a suitable match.

But then Sirius Black asked you out, and your whole world had stars aligned in front of you in heart-shaped constellations; and it came down in shambles at the same time.

“Love, you alright?”

His delicately worried voice pulled you out of the misery that your parents’ letter promptly put you in.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you answered, shaking your head to temporarily kick the haunting unpleasantries out of your mind. “It’s just… this.”

You showed Sirius a thick envelope with a gold-encrusted seal, your family crest shining proudly and glaringly in the rays of the first summer sun. He barely glanced at the paper and snatched it from you, carelessly throwing it into the fireplace. You watched the flames hungrily devouring the carefully folded letter but leaving the seal perfectly undamaged. It stared at you like a glowing all-seeing orb, burning through your skull and serving as a reminder that everything you had just read was real and imminent.

“The school’s gotta give you props for all this rubbish to keep the fireplaces running.”

You chuckled at Sirius’ vitriol but it hardly lightened the thunderclouds gathering right above your head.

“You know words don’t burn, right?”

“Seems to me like they just did.” Sirius pointed at the seal that finally started to melt, stuck between pieces of firewood and piles of ash.

You let out a heavy breath and turned away from the fireplace to face your boyfriend. He was lying on the couch, head resting on a soft velvety cushion, looking at you with quite a joyful expression on his face. In your mind, it didn’t fit the situation at all, but you had gotten used to his nonchalance about your parents’… dislike of him. Or, better put, their vicious hatred that they never even tried to hide.

“Do you really not care?” you wondered for the umpteenth time, knowing that a no was a sure follow-up to your question.

“Why would I?” Sirius grinned and his hand safely covered yours, resting on the arm of the sofa. “The best part of your fam loves me, and others are a bunch of wankers.”

“I’m the only part of my fam that loves you, babe,” you pointed out, rolling your eyes but giving him a little smile. He smiled back, but stayed silent, noticing that you weren’t finished yet. “I’m already seventeen but I still feel like I’m a wee baby when they talk to me, or send me letters, or even look at me!”

“I know, love, it sucks. But you remember the plan, right?”

You nodded, and the smile on your face had finally turned genuine.

“The one where we come to my graduation dinner together even though my parents explicitly stated many times that there’s not a single universe in which they allow you to step on the property, and if you do, it would be over their dead bodies?”

“Merlin, the way you describe it! Might just be the best prank I’ve ever pulled!”

Sirius burst out laughing and you couldn’t help but follow his lead, his contagious joy making you feel whole again. The two of you came up with this madness of a plan as soon as you heard about your mother talking about a graduation dinner in your honour. They would never allow Sirius to attend, not in a million years; hell, they refused to even look at him when they saw you off at Platform 9 ¾ at the beginning of your last year at Hogwarts. They ignored his existence whenever he came into their sight, like during the holidays, when you got off the train hand in hand with your boyfriend and your parents greeted you, hugged you, kissed you on the forehead, but Sirius was frozen out completely, as if his existence was but a figment of your imagination. He never cared though; he would snicker at their theatrics and kiss you right in front of them, throwing a challenge directly in their stuck-up faces of the Wizarding nobility. Your parents came to know that their never-ending nagging wouldn’t stop you from dating Sirius Black, but they did hold specks of hope that you would grow out of your “immature phase” and give them what they wanted – a perfect little husband from another holier-than-thou household.

Never in a thousand lifetimes would you agree.

The time had come. You had to admit that you were somewhat nervous - never before had you defied your parents’ rules so explicitly and so shamelessly. You Floo’d to the Diagon Alley under the guise of last-minute preparations for the big event. Sirius was waiting for you right there, fully prepared: he was sporting a leather jacket, torn up jeans and a nearly finished cigarette in his mouth. This lad certainly went all out to look as much as a rebellious kid cliché as it was humanly possible, and you absolutely adored it. You couldn’t wait to see the reactions; your whole family was to be present at the dinner, even the most distant relatives, who might not have heard about Sirius at all – your parents hid the fact you were dating him like a dirty secret never to be uncovered.

“Love, you ready?”

Sirius took your hand in his, clearly feeling your accelerated pulse against his own steady heartbeat.

“I was less scared of our Transfiguration N.E.W.T., if I’m honest,” you admitted, hearing your voice tremble ever so slightly. “But then again, McGonagall isn’t a sanctimonious bitch.”

Sirius let out a short laugh, but his eyes were the most earnest when he gave you one last look before turning towards the fireplace, with a handful of Floo powder ready to go.

“Let’s show them, baby. You and I, against the world.”

With his encouraging words swirling in your mind, you let yourself get sucked into the labyrinths of the Floo Network, headstrong into what could turn out as the worst and the best moment of your whole life.

Your clumsy roll out into the main living room of the family manor was a perfect start for a spectacle that was inevitably about to unfold. As soon as you stood up, Sirius flew out right behind you, almost knocking you down to the floor again.

“Daughter? What is going on?!”

Your father’s voice sounded like a church bell above you. At last, you looked up at a crowd of people, all dressed up to bits, staring at you agape, their jaws on a synchronous road to meet the bristly carpet of the living room. The silence was so loud one could hear grains of sand pouring into the bottom half of an ancient hourglass adorning the mantelpiece.

“Mom, Dad,” you started, dusting off your ivory white Sunday best, “and you, Aunt Sarah, and you, Aunt Hannah, and, of course, you, Uncle Marcus! I’m terribly sorry if I’m forgetting some of you, it’s not often that you grace us with your presence!”

Sarcasm was spilling out of your pretentious speech, as you finally had the audacity to say what you had been wanting to express for the past year. Sirius’ presence gave you some much needed courage not to stumble on your words as you tore your heart out of your chest and pinned it shut on your sleeve.

“Merlin, you lot aren’t that suave for a bunch of sirs and madams!”

Speaking of the devil.

Sirius whistled, reaching your side and putting his arm around your bare shoulders. You had picked a dress like that specifically to piss your parents off a little more. They had always told you that any skin visible to the eye below the neck and above the knees was awfully indecent, very unladylike – so you just had to stick it to them.

“Daughter, what is he doing here?!” your mother tried to whisper, but in the deafening silence her voice could be heard as clearly as if she used the Sonorus spell. “Didn’t we tell you…”

“That you’d rather die than accept your dear daughter dating someone you deem undesirable?”

Your mother tried shushing you, giving desperate faux smiles to the guests around.

“What, you didn’t tell anyone?” you continued with a sneer. “Aunts, Uncles, cousins, meet Sirius Black! We’re in love!”

An array of ahs and ohs rang out in the air, and you could see Aunt Hannah clutching her chunky pearl necklace like it was her favourite childhood plushie. Sirius gave the crowd a way overly-exaggerated curtsy.

“Sirius Black, at your service,” he announced, taking out a cigarette out of the pack and popping it between his teeth, ready to light it. Before he had time to do it, the lighter was knocked out of his hands, hitting the wall on the other side of the room with a loud thump. You noticed your father’s moving hand hiding his wand back into the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Don’t you dare smoke inside this house!” the man shouted, wishing to incinerate Sirius right where he stood with his scathing glare.

Sirius barked out a laugh and another lighter appeared in his hand. He didn’t go for a cigarette this time, merely playing with the thing in-between his fingers.

“Rule number one when at a pureblood’s den,” he mockingly drawled the words, turning the lighter on and off, “always have a spare lighter.”

You couldn’t hold in a chuckle when you saw your parents ominously fuming at every syllable escaping your boyfriend’s mouth. Your father sighed so loudly, one would think he was on his death bed.

“Let us take this outside, shall we?” He motioned towards the field serving as the manor’s backyard. You looked at the innocent flowers quivering in the wind and thought that they didn’t deserve whatever mess was about to happen within family bounds on this beautiful summer evening.

“Don’t you think it’s unfair, Dad, to deprive our lovely audience?”

You gave the people around you the fakest brightest smile you could muster. No one returned it.

“Daughter, do not taunt me,” your father warned you. “We can use the dining room, if you so desire, but nothing happens here.”

You glanced at Sirius and caught his nod of approval. The dining room was close enough so that your parents couldn’t possibly hurt Sirius, or even you – you were quite sure they wouldn’t touch you with a tip of a finger, but a bit of discretion didn’t seem too excessive. Plus, and it was the only reason you agreed – you didn’t have to suffocate under the heavy stares of your kin.

The dining room wasn’t too different from the living room, the only obvious distinction being a long hardwood table stretching almost wall to wall. It wasn’t yet set – the meal itself was to start at a later hour. Your mother was the last to enter, struggling to dismiss a choir of what-a-messes from your pathetic aunts with desperate promises to deal with the whole situation as soon as they could. She cast a charm to silence you to the rest of the world and turned, at last, to face you. Your father slipped into one of the dining chairs, but you and Sirius remained standing, given some sense of dominance due to the now apparent height difference.

“I will not dance around the subject, daughter, we are terribly disappointed in you.”

Father’s words didn’t sting as much as you thought, and you almost let out a loud sigh of relief as this realization dawned on you. They almost had a tinge of freedom in them, a bittersweet taste of long-awaited liberty. All expectations burdening your fragile shoulders suddenly vanished and you could straighten your back and run, conquering hill after hill, mountain after mountain. They were disappointed. You had nothing to uphold anymore.

“Oh, I heard this one before.” Behind you Sirius laughed, almost grunting, which made you chuckle as well. “Trust me, babe, it only gets better from here.”

Mother shot a highly disapproving look at Sirius, but stayed silent. You always hated it; “A good wife lets her husband talk,” she once said in response to your childish question, and you never asked again.

“What about, Dad? Does my happiness look disappointing to you?” Your question sounded naive, but you knew you hit the exact spot. Your parents had been telling you since your earliest years that all they wanted for you was happiness. Apparently, they forgot to add “happiness that we approve of and scrupulously choose for you” at the end.

“Your happiness? What happiness, daughter? Him? He’s the happiness?”

Your father spat out each word as if it was poison he had accidentally drunk, as if it was a travesty to mention Sirius Black and happiness in the same sentence.

“You do not know what happiness looks like, daughter. You’re only seventeen. You do not know any better.”

“And what do you know about happiness, Dad?!”

Your voice cracked as you felt it growing louder. At this point, the conversation couldn’t avoid turning into a full-blown fight, but it was destined to be exactly that from the beginning. You came prepared.

“Is this perfectly sleek suit of yours happiness? Are my Outstanding N.E.W.Ts happiness? Is having your whole life laid out in front of you from the day you were born happiness, Dad?!”

“You do not know what you are talking about!” Father shouted, his fist rapidly meeting the surface of the table. You flinched and Sirius was quick to jump in front of you, his wand squeezed tightly in his hand.

“Sir, just so you know, this wand has been used on authority figures before.” Sirius waved it in front of him, as if it was but another gauntlet thrown into your father’s face. The sarcasm in his “Sir” was flaming hot. “And for all I care, you’re no authority.”

Father took out his own wand from the same inner pocket and pointed it at Sirius.

“Boy, I will not bat an eye if you turn to dust right here and now,” he stated, his nose wrinkled in disgust, but his eyes slowly turning a shade of bloody red. It was your turn to step in between them, shielding your bold but reckless boyfriend from your father’s simmering rage.

“Dad, stop, I love him!”

It wasn’t the first case of you telling your parents that you loved Sirius, but as these words made an escape from you this time, they had almost acquired a new meaning. They felt more real, more pointed and firmer. Your father didn’t think so. He merely sneered at your proud declaration and rolled his exasperated eyes.

“Love, happiness… All this pointless charade just to prove that you are still a petulant child.” Father turned his head to look at his wife, who nodded in unconditional agreement.

“We did not raise you like that, daughter,” she finally spoke, her tone the same as your father’s.

“Your mother is right. You had everything, daughter, everything you did and did not need. And what do you do in return? Mess around with this blood traitor?!” Father spat out the last word with utmost repugnance.

Honestly speaking, the phrase had a way worse effect on you than on Sirius. He had time to grow some thick skin, dealing with bullshit bigotry from blood-purity lunatics for a while, but it was a first for you – hearing such venom from your parent, whom you still hoped to respect and to love.

“If you, sir, are dumb enough to think this was an insult – try the fuck again.”

Mother gasped and shouted “Language!”, but Sirius’ only response came in the form of a sly grin. As soon as he did it, Father jumped up from his seat and pointed his wand at Sirius with such force that it almost slid out of his hand. Sirius mirrored his actions in a relaxed, almost lethargic manner, as if he was calling Father’s bluff.

“STOP. RIGHT. NOW!”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. With every single passing second, your boundaries were being stomped on by your parents, and even though you had the most pleasure doing it back, you wished for the mess to end. The two men lowered their wands and stared at you simultaneously – Sirius with pride, and Father – with fury.

“Dad, Mom, do you not understand?! You never saw me as a person, just a damn doll to dress up!” You completely ignored your parents’ shock at your straightforward use of a very simple curse word, because it was just a beginning. “You gave me everything, and for what? For me to follow your every fucking order to a T?! For you to bitch and moan about every single decision I make using my pretty damn sound mind?!”

“What has this blood traitor done to you, daughter?” your mother sighed, looking at you with forced sympathy. “You are swearing at your own loving parents who just want to save you…”

“If there’s something to save me from, it’s you!”

You didn’t buy Mother’s crocodile tears that were about to stream down her cheeks. Always the same shit, always her clutching her heart, or her head, or both at the same time. She wasn’t about to coax you again.

“Listen to your mother! You are carrying our noble family name, tracing back centuries. You cannot disgrace it with your outrageous behaviour!”

“Not for long!”

Sirius’ voice was a breath of fresh air in a viscous swamp of your parents’ soliloquies, but for the first time today you didn’t know where he was going. The only thing he gave you was a reassuring smile, which was nice but not helpful at all.

The next minute unraveled in front of you second by second, and you felt each one pass by like the Unforgivables barely missing you and whizzing through the room. Sirius hid his wand and instead took something out of his pocket – you couldn’t discern the thing, but it looked suspiciously similar to a tiny box, – simultaneously getting down on one knee. Three pairs of eyes widened at the same time, but with different emotions concealed in their depths: Father was enveloped with pure wrath and despair; Mother was simply shocked, covering her mouth with a trembling hand; you felt nearly hysterical, your brain vacant from any foreign thoughts except for the man kneeling in front of you with what you could already see was a ring peeking from the wooden box.

“My love,” Sirius began, fully content with every reaction he received so far, “my baby, my little nugget of joy…”

You didn’t want to interrupt him but couldn’t help laughing at the pet name.

“I’d be a bit wordier if it wasn’t, y’know…” His head tilted towards your parents, who still hadn’t evaporated the two of you for some reason. “But I hope to have a lifetime for that. Now, just one question, love.”

You were ready to nod your head away until it would fall off and roll into the corner, but you wanted to hear Sirius say the sacred four words. Most importantly, you wanted your parents to hear them, and maybe pass out at your enthusiastic agreement.

“Will you marry me?”

Your yelled out “YES!” could very likely pierce through whatever silencing charms your mother had put on the dining room. A second later the ring was already on your finger, and you were in your fiancé’s arms, spinning around in endless circles of sheer love and uninterrupted bliss. Your lips quickly found his. Your parents were furious. You didn’t care.

“Daughter?!”

Your father’s voice wasn’t a church bell anymore. It resembled a first-year getting caught up in the Whomping Willow for the first time – abnormally high, breaking and unequivocally frightened.

“Dad?” you mimicked his tone and were pretty damn good at it, if Sirius had a say. “You know what, Dad? If this is the blood running through my veins, I’m more than willing to betray it.”

Mother’s cheeks were wet from tears at last; the flood wasn’t sorrowful, not at all – it was filled with spite. Father clutched his wand, but something stopped him – maybe he was ultimately conscious of the fact that from that moment on he had no power over you. You thanked Merlin for his obsolete mentality that told him wives were their husbands’ properties – well, not yet husband’s in your case, but the premise remained. Oh, the irony! The thing that made him have a measly shred of respect for Sirius was the fact that he was about to marry you – not that he had been your choice of a partner for at least a year.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’m taking my future Mrs. Black the fuck away from here.”

Sirius was a gentleman. He offered you his arm, chivalrously opened the door for you and proudly displayed your hand with a shiny stone on your ring finger to each and every nosy aunt willing – no, desperate to take a look. You parents had already left the dining room, but shifted along the wall to avoid the ever-inquisitive relatives. You swiftly reached the fireplace and grabbed a handful of powder each. You were so ready to finally leave the manor behind that your whole body moved by itself, without any input from your consciousness.

“And she’s having my baby!” you heard Sirius shouting just before you disappeared into the green fire of the Floo Network.

Both of you rolled out of the fireplace somewhere in the Diagon Alley, one after the other. You could finally let your guard down and burst into genuine, merry laughter; Sirius did the same, standing up and pulling you into his loving embrace.

“Love, you should’ve seen their faces!” he claimed, excitement washing over him and capturing you by association. “Bet they won’t forget us until the day they die.”

You secretly hoped they wouldn’t.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #the marauders #the marauders era #the marauders imagine #the marauders fanfiction

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forestdeath1 · 2 days

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How do you think canon wolfstar would develop and go? I would love to read one of your metas on this!

Hello! Well, I'm writing this, so I don’t want to spoil it! :D But I think there are a few details that are important to consider if we want to write this ship when they were at Hogwarts (I'm only writing about the years '75 to '81). TW: If you're a very dedicated fan of fanon Wolfstar you may not like it!

Canon Sirius and Remus were never very close emotionally to each other. They became close primarily after Azkaban, as two last Marauders who had lost a lot—two friends, their youth, parts of themselves, etc.

No, Sirius didn’t open up about all his secrets to Remus. No, it wasn’t Remus whom Sirius turned to first in tough situations. And it wasn't Remus who Sirius was willing to do absolutely everything for. And it wasn't Remus for this, that or the other. We shouldn't take away what belongs to James and give it to Remus. Remus isn’t James and never will be.

Everyone gets this, including Remus himself. Sirius always had just one person at the top of his list. Always. Just one. And no one could ever take their place. Remus didn’t even try to.

A jealous, demanding, sulking Remus—that’s just not him.

The fact that Sirius suspected Remus is a massively important detail for their entire pre-Azkaban relationship.

The Prank was never a big deal for the Marauders, but it did affect Remus. However, Remus wasn’t walking around holding a grudge against Sirius, nor did he try to punish him with silence.

No, it wasn’t Sirius who was most concerned about Remus and his lycanthropy. It was James.

Sirius wasn’t drooling over a cool, smart, and handsome Remus because that Remus never existed.

Remus didn’t make the first move towards Sirius. It was Sirius who did.

They didn’t argue and sort things out. They didn’t yell at each other. They didn’t insult each other.

But it was a very hard relationship. It had a lot of good in it, but it was very hard.

In my view, it was Remus who wanted to keep their relationship under wraps. The '70s in the Wizarding World. Besides being a werewolf, he also liked boys. Clearly, that’s not something he’d want to boast about to his friends. He might have been really scared of how James would react. James was a much more authoritative figure for Remus than Sirius. Remus didn’t know anything about what was going on (or not) between Sirius and James.

Sirius and Remus in Wolfstar are revealed in ways they wouldn’t be if there wasn’t Wolfstar.

Wolfstar is a difficult ship, and it’s not about happy love, despite having many good and happy moments. Its tragedy isn't just that the war took everything from them. Wolfstar is difficult because of the characters involved. It’s not a heartbreaking story of two madly in love lovers. The tragedy of Wolfstar is quite mundane and, perhaps, too real.

As Tolstoy said in Anna Karenina, "Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." "Canon" Wolfstar is meant to show just that. There can’t be two insanely in love happy boys who were just separated by the complexities of war but continued to love each other madly. That's just not Sirius and Remus.

#sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar

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acewritesfics · 11 hours

Text

We Should buy a Horse | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: from @/runnning-outof-time

Warnings: None

Word Count: 747

Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“You know you don’t have to help me pour drinks,” Y/N says as she stands behind the bar of the Garrison with Tommy, who’s pouring a large jug of ale for one of the patrons.

“We own the place now, so might as well do the work,” he smiles.

Not wanting to dampen his good mood, she smiles back at him and kisses his cheek as she moves on to serving more customers.

After handing the patron his jug, he steps back to watch Y/N as she interacts with the regulars as well as the new patrons, always with a friendly smile on her face. She always knows what to say and when to say it. He’s always thought of her as his ray of sunshine, poking through the dark stormy skies. She’s the love of his life and the only one he can see himself spending the rest of his life with. He knows that everything he does is for his family and for her, wanting to give her everything she deserves which to him is the world.

“Are you all right, love?” Y/N asks Tommy as she moves to stand in front of him as Arthur took over pouring drinks.

“I’m more than all right,” he smiles at her again, his eyes sparkling like they use to before the war happened though not as bright. But the sparkle was still there. “Our betting shop is legal now, we have the Garrison, I have my family and I have you. Things are looking up, sweetheart.”

Y/N cups his cheeks and brings him in for a quick kiss.

“I love you,” she tells him once her lips part from his. “And I love seeing you happy again.”

“I’ve always been happy when I’m with you,” he pulls her close, his arms encircling her waist. “And I love you too.”

Choosing once again not to dampen his mood, she leans into his embrace until he lets her go, taking her hand in his.

“I want to show you something,” he tells her, leading her to the office that now belonged to Arthur.

As they entered the room, Tommy shuts the door shutting out the chattering of the people in the pub. “I think we should buy a horse,” he tells her as he searches through the papers on the desk. Frowning slightly, he mumbles something about her helping Arthur with the paperwork so he can keep it organized.

“How many horses do you have already?” she asks him.

“Those are racehorses,” he points out.

“You want a pet?” she continues to question him, slightly confused about what. “Where will you put it?”

“We could buy a home with a stable in the countryside,” he answers confusing her even further.

“You’re saying we an awful lot tonight,” she points out. “Have you talked to your brothers and Polly about your plans.”

“Why would I talk to them about it?” he asks her. “I want to do all that with you, not them,” he continues as he finds what he’s looking for and picks it up. “Look at the name next to mine at the bottom of the page,” he tells her handing the piece of paper to her.

With confusion all over her face, she takes the piece of paper and finds Tommy’s name. As she reads the name next to his, her head shoots up, looking at him in shock before looking at the paper again. “Y/N Shelby,” she says aloud. “I... I’m not a Shelby though.”

“I want you to be one,” he tells her, reaching into the top drawer of the desk.

“Is this your way of asking me to marry you?” she asks unsure, the shock still on her face as she watches him.

Pulling out a ring box, he opens it showing her the ring inside. “Will you do everything I just mentioned with me?” he asks her in reply. “Will you become Mrs. Y/N Shelby, and be my partner in the future I’m working on for me, you and our family?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she chokes out, her heart thumping hard against her chest, a sob stuck in her throat as she nods, a large smile on her face as she looks at him lovingly.

He pulls her into a kiss as he slips the ring on to her finger.

“I love you,” she whispers against his lips.

“I love you too, soon-to-be Mrs. Shelby,” he says before deepening the kiss.

#acewritesfics repost #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby

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skills-bracket-2 · 20 hours

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FINAL ROUND

1. “See, hear and smell everything. Let no detail go unnoticed.

Cool for: Fine Detail Detectives, Sensualists, Urban Scavengers

Perception wants you to be open to the world – with eyes, ears, and nose working at full capacity. It enables you to take in what others don’t notice. The little wad of bills hid away in the sugar bowl; the odor of a perp, hiding beneath the floor boards; the gulp of a suspect, after claiming they’ve nothing to hide.”

2. “Understand creativity. See Art in the world.

Cool for: Creatives, Psychedelic Fanciers, Critics.

Conceptualization has a special role it wants you to play in this world – not the role of cop, but of Art Cop. It enables you to make fresh associations, to delve into world-concepts from Jan Kaarp’s postmodernist karperie, to Revachol’s arabesque architectural style dideridada, and even the concept of HARDCORE – and then, importantly, to add your own contribution to these works.”

3. “Hunches and gut feelings. Dreams in waking life.

Cool for: Dreamers, Para-Natural Investigators, Mental Creators

Inland Empire is the unfiltered wellspring of imagination, emotion, and foreboding. It enables you to grope your way through invisible dimensions of reality, gaining insight into that which sight can’t see. What’s really going on? What do these enigmatic riddles mean for the world-fate?”

4. “Raise the hair on your neck. Tune in to the city.

Cool for: City Lovers, The Wisest of the Street Wise, The Genuinely Supra-Natural

Shivers come when the temperature drops and you become more keenly aware of your surroundings. It enables you to hear the city itself, to truly belong to the streets. It is a supra-natural ability; old wrongs play out in present time, scenes across the city happen in front of you. But who is speaking to you?”

#final round #disco elysium #disco elysium skills #the skills de #the skills disco elysium #sorry this took a bit to get to. gestures vaguely. life happened!

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nellasbookplanet · 2 months

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That one post which I can no longer find about how Laudna and Imogen simultaneously embody "I can fix her" and "I can make her worse" truly hit the nail on the head about them. They are each other’s tethers, keep each other grounded and help the other remember there’s a reason to go on, they taught each other that they don’t have to be lonely and isolated and feared, that they can be loved unconditionally not despite that which makes them dangerous and different but in part because of it, as an inherent part of themselves. They will fight for each other’s happiness tooth and nail.

But they are also the 'together either way' couple. Laudna would follow in Delilah's footsteps and burn the world and herself for Imogen. If she thinks Ruidus and Predathos are Imogen's destiny, what would make her whole and happy, she would encourage her to embrace it, Exandria be damned. Imogen exalted because of her love for Laudna. She was prepared to do just about anything to get Laudna back from the dead and is equally prepared to do anything now to stop it from happening again. She offered to let Laudna eat her soul. She's so so tempted by Ruidus and knows, even in her struggle, that the person she loves most would never hold it against her even a little bit if she gave in.

#imogen temult #laudna #imodna #southern gothic #i feel like laudna is further gone down this path than imogen #imogen actually wants to save the world and the people in it for the sake of saving them #she's tempted by power and belonging but realizes giving in would probably be bad and is actively resisting at every turn #i don’t think she’d turn dark unless predathos either overwhelmes her and she goes full dark phoenix losing herself to power #or if she gets put in a position of choosing between laudna and the world #in which case it'd be VERY interesting to see what she picks #meanwhile laudna's only real priority is imogen #if imogen stopped wanting to fight for the world so would laudna #if imogen turned against the world so would laudna #if the world came between her and imogen laudna wouldn’t even stop to think. it wouldn’t even be a choice #it would be imogen every time #critical role #cr3 #nella talks cr

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blazingstar24 · 2 months

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Just thinking again why Predathos would choose Ludinus, why Ludinus chose Predathos. And thinking about that elven city ripped from Exandria. Those people unaware of why, of what they did wrong, if they did anything wrong. On the whims of the Gods who decided that their lives, their city meant nothing in their attempt to kill another.

And how that sounds to (possibly, in theory) an Aeorian. Thinking about how Predathos can reach into any Exandrian’s dreams. Thinking about how an elf’s dreams are not dreams but memories. How a godeater would appeal to the truest non believer. To show him that his city was not the first to be collectively punished. That this has happened before.

And I do think about how exactly Predathos pulls people in. The kind of people it attracts. They are all people who feel like they have no place to call home.

How it calls to the Ruidusborn, who are ostracized and shamed, who feel like they don’t belong. How it calls to Imogen by making her feel the warmth of a family, of a familial embrace for the first time. How it has promised its own people that Exandria, the Blue Promise will be a home for them. So of course it called to Ludinus. Yet another lost soul, out of time, out of place. If Predathos is the Shepard of the lost, of the lonely, who better to kneel at its feet than the most lost and alone man on Exandria.

There is the idea that Predathos is some unwitting beast. A monster that Ludinus is just going to set loose. But more and more I do believe that it isn’t that. That it is clever, that it thinks and plans and schemes, just as much as Ludinus does. They call it the One Who Sleeps but it has spoken to Imogen. It has asked to be woken up. All that points to Predathos being very aware of what is going on. Thus I think it is not out of the question that Ludinus is both still wizard hubrising his way into something bigger than him but also perhaps chosen by Predathos. That it saw him and said he’s the perfect mark for it. I mean how fitting it is for the God Eater to find the number one God Hater? Is it all just a coincidence or did it see into the “dreams” of someone primed and ready to tear down the world. Someone much more clever and less afraid of the unknown like the children who carry its seed. And how if Predathos was smart, of course it should choose that person as their champion.

#ludinus da'leth #predathos #cr meta #cr spoilers #it would honestly parallel and ring true with the BH too #these people who did not devote themselves to the gods or in FCG’s case was not even high on the Changebringer’s list #and being chosen to be the ones to enact their will #being chosen to help them to save them #this idea of not being made for something and yet the gaze of these beings fall upon you anyway #ludinus is far from the NPC vibes of the BH but there is still that idea of you should have died a long time ago #the feeling of you don’t belong in this story and yet here you are #that idea of he should have died in the Calamity and yet here he is a remnant of sins of the old world

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bisexualseraphim · 5 months

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Do queer people who gatekeep sexualities and gender identities have nothing better to do like genuinely what is your problem. The whole point of the community is that gender and sexuality are more fuckity wuckity than man or woman, gay or straight and in almost 2024 we STILL have mfs going “nah that’s not a thing :/ you don’t belong in the community” unless they’re causing harm to others I seriously urge you to shut the fuck up. It is the easiest thing in the world to just say “hmm I don’t really understand that. But it’s their life and none of my business” and just move on with your life and let people live theirs. I do not give one iota of a fuck if someone identifies as a wolfgender they/them/bun/bunself AMAB transmasc who is only attracted to butches with curly hair and brown eyes IT DOES NOT AFFECT ME. I’m happy that they’ve found a way to express their identity that feels true to them and then I think about it no further. Like it takes active mental energy and emotion to get pressed over how someone expresses themselves and I don’t understand why you’d put yourself through that stress and then decide to be bitchy and make people feel like shit for being themselves. I’m seriously getting so tired of people in the community acting like it’s a fucking competition or you can only join if you meet X Y and Z criteria as if it’s some college mean girls sorority club. People are actively trying to take our rights away all the time and while this is happening we’re helping them by tearing our teeth into our own. Great

#I’ve just had enough of it exclusionists can fuck off I want nothing to do with you #You’re honestly no better than those LGB Without The T dickheads trying to kick people out for being ‘too weird’ or ‘not queer enough’#I’m always seeing people saying intersex people don’t belong or asexual people don’t belong. What the fuck is wrong with you #You think cishets just treat them normally once they explain who they are? I’d love to live in your world #Yeah they get treated totally fine in a world where ‘virgin’ is used as an insult and babies have forced genital surgery #[sarcasm]#Absolute dumbassery mental gymnastics Jesus Christ #You sound like edgy Conservatives with all the ‘X isn’t real it’s a new thing kids have made up’#That ‘weird’ gender or sexuality label you’ve just found out about? Has always been around #Always. You just have to look for it #And even if it is new WHO. FUCKING. CARES.#The last thing someone who’s just discovered themselves needs is more bigotry from the people who are meant to accept them #Unless they’re literally doing blackface or are an actual zoophile or some shit leave them the fuck alone they’re not hurting anyone #They’re not. I promise you being confused by something you don’t understand isn’t harm #Where’s that post about how discomfort and harm aren’t the same thing #Work on that shit.#Anyway I need to stop you all do my fucking head in #personal #vent #rant #queer discourse #queer politics #queer infighting #queerphobia #lgbtq #queer #trans #transphobia #acephobia #anti exclusionist

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padfootastic · 11 months

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Let’s talk about how killing James affects Snape in the war and with his roommates. Regardless of any personal feelings for James, he was still a pureblood and Snape was a half-blood; how do the blood purists on Voldemort’s side react to him killing a pureblood, even if that pureblood was a blood-traitor? Also, he committed the homicide in broad daylight in front of dozens of witnesses, obviously not the smartest decision ever made. We also know that several of Snape’s Housemates and presumably some of his roommates were blood purists, since they go on to join the Death Eaters, so how do they react to their half-blood roommate murdering another pureblood, even if they hated said pureblood? It’s not just how Sirius and James’s family react to James being killed, but this is a fairly good representation of the current conflict in Britain and I feel like at least some of Voldemort’s supporters would use this as evidence for why non-purebloods don’t belong in their society

yES!! this is it!!

i have absolutely no doubt that minorities were scapegoated whenever possible. one person fucks up and suddenly it’s a blood purity issue. and at a time when the war was heating up the way it was? entirely possible that even if effie and flea didn’t want to take it further than individual punishment, the incident gets picked up as a way to propel the movement forward

wonder if sirius would’ve unintentionally spearheaded it bc he’s so caught up in his grief he doesn’t realise the consequences of it until years later and he’s swimming in so much regret and guilt by then—

it’s honestly such a common tactic too like,,,the potters might be blood traitors but their pureblood identity can still be weaponised by either side at any time. and if james is dead and his parents are grieving—there’s no one to stop it from happening either. and snape, i swear. he’s in such a vulnerable positions wrt blood/class, and it’s very likely he might just be put on the chopping block as the root of all problems. i feel like this might also introduce like…identity/loyalty conflict amongst *some* people atleast about what they really value, a halfblood with their ideology or a pureblood against them?

#stuff like ‘this is why they don’t belong in our world!#they don’t know how to control their magic. they’re too volatile. no respect for the old blood etc etc #look at him dabbling in things beyond his reach; making spells psh. as if a halfblood has the capacity to #stuff like that #and more i think about it—more i think snape will be right in the middle of this #like even more than the obvious i. dan #mean*#he’ll be made an example of #crack scenario but imagine voldy calling snape and gifting him a fruit platter lmao #‘u got those neutral pureblood sitting on the fence to my side much more effectively than i ever could #and with one misfired/mistimed spell at that. amazing’#pen’s asks

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