green frock

Fifty Seven.

Fifty seven isn’t a special birthday but at the Potters’ everything worth celebrating is special.

Sirius and Remus buy party hats and balloons, in Gryffindor red and gold of course and the whole living room is filled with streamers and Remus has also charmed a little smoke stag to prance around the room. 

Lily bakes a cake, praying she’d remembered to put sugar instead of salt. She cleaned out the frills from the Moony-Padfoot decorating party and made sure everything was in order and everyone was coming in on time.

Harry, even after 38 odd years spent the most time in a futile effort to flatten his messy hair. He grabbed his little Lily Luna as she whizzed past him in her green frock and made his way down to where Ginny was also trying to flatten Albus’ hair, but alas. James Sirius was calling to them eagerly from near the fireplace, jumping in anticipation to go visit his hero, his Grandpa James. With last minute checks and cries of “Come on, Dad!” into the Floo they went.

The whole family was already there, Hermione and Ron holding on to Hugo’s hand. Rose and Albus had already disappeared when Harry stepped out of the fireplace of his parents’ house at Godric’s Hollow. Remus was deep in conversation with Victoire and Tonks and Teddy were laughing as they had changed their hair to a scintillating shade of red.

It was about half past 7 when James walked in, greeted to a chorus of “Surprise!” by his family. He was swarmed and suffocated with hugs and presents and kisses, the last of which were mainly Sirius and Lily. 

The whole family sang an out of tune rendition of “Happy Birthday” as James cut into his large cake, grinning wide as a party hat was slapped onto his head by Padfoot. His smile didn’t even dim when a mouth full of salty cake was shoved into his mouth, instead he just kissed Lily and thanking her for the “best piece of cake he had ever eaten.”

As the night began to close and James sat in their home, Lily beside him, surrounded by his best friends, children and sleeping grandchildren, he was warm and happy and thankful he got to celebrate fifty seven with the people he loved most in the world.

Happy Birthday James Fleamont Potter (27th March 1960 - 31st October 1981)

Chapter 14 - "Beginning of the Next"


Just like that. 

Her heart had been full to bursting and she let everything spill out in front of him. Now she felt … not exactly empty … more hungry. She wanted to stuff herself back up; she felt deflated, incomplete.

He’d taken a piece of her with him, along with all the light in the sky. The sun was setting as she watched Arnie drive him away in the car, and by the time she turned and walked up the stairs to her room, the darkness had overtaken. Whatever else she dreaded about life, Rae had never feared the dark before, and she was determined that she wouldn’t let herself start now. 

Everything had happened so fast, she hadn’t had time to think about what his going would feel like. What it would mean to not have him down the hall and up the stairs. Or in the garden. Or waiting at table. He was truly out of reach and her palms itched, knowing they couldn’t touch him. 

Rae felt proprietary over Finn in a way that she never had about anyone else. She didn’t understand it, nor did she like it. In her core, she didn’t believe that people belonged to other people, but she was beginning to believe that sometimes people belonged together. She was afraid to believe in anything like fate, because maybe that meant she deserved to be sent away. Could being sent away have been a cosmic preparation to meet Finn? Or was life utterly chaotic, and if you found someone you loved, you should hang onto them with all your might, because they might float away if you didn’t?

Now that he was gone home, she had nothing to hang onto. She was aimless and empty, like she didn’t know he was her direction and what filled her heart. 

She couldn’t believe they had actually said the words out loud. This was where so many books end, protagonists joined in an embrace, looking forward to their long and happy future. But she and Finn didn’t have a happy future guaranteed for them. True, no one had a guarantee, but many people didn’t have this gulf between them. And on top of everything, Finn was gone. He had embraced her, told her again that he loved her, taken his small case, and left. It was so strange, she’d been thrilled by those three words, I and you, joined by love, but now she was deep in despair. In the book that Finn had taken with him for his journey, an old man says that it is impossible to love and to part. She didn’t know when she’d see him again, and she couldn’t just spend all of that time pining away. She’d go mad again, or become madder still.

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Flood my Mornings (Boston AU), Part 5

From the prompt @ask-charming-david​ asked: Imagine if Jamie somehow made his way through the stones after Culloden, found out where Claire was, made his way there, and surprised her in Boston.

Catch up: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

-Mod Bonnie

Flood my Mornings 

Part 5

“Are we nearly there, sir?” Jamie asked, his throat impossibly dry and his stomach reeling.

“Not far at all,” the TaxiCab driver said genially, looking back at Jamie in the wee mirror. “Fury Street is less than a mile off.”

Jamie murmured a word of thanks, then sat back in the seat, trying not to vomit. The lurching and banging about of the small yellow Van was only the smallest measure of the turmoil inside him: Claire and his child were less than a mile off

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She finds him in the basement of Henrik’s, wrapped up tightly in a bedsheet, looking ever so alone. But instead of running, Rose takes him by the hand, calms him. She only wants to help. She has no idea that she may have just saved him.

He can’t remember who he is, but that’s no matter. As he warms up to her, and accepts her help, she discovers he is disarmingly charming, and brimming with the strangest, most fascinating stories she’s ever heard. Not that she entirely believes them all. They’re just a bit too fantastical, although he insists they’re all true.

She finds him some clothes in the racks of the basement, but he insists on the green velvet frock coat from the Christmas display in storage. Rose doesn’t argue, but helps him strip the dummy and fit him in his strange suit.

She wonders what happened to him as he wanders off, saying something about needing to find a blue police box. She finds herself wondering, too, if she’ll ever see him again…

peetaisbae  asked:

Hello!! I am so so happy I found this page! UGHHH so happy! Okay. So my birthday is July 12 and I would really like a fic where Katniss and Peeta are newlywed, struggling college students and Katniss is pregnant. And could you include a birth scene please! Sorry if it's too soon I'm just a major procrastinator and I don't want to forget.

Your amazing birthday story was written by @katnissdoesnotfollowback, enjoy!

Four Minute Lull

Happy Birthday! I hope you are having a wonderful day and enjoy your present!

RATED: T, no trigger warnings

This story is set in the early 1950’s. There will be time jumps between present and past events. Hope it isn’t too confusing.

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Mod Post: Ren’s Thoughts On Pixar’s Inside Out

[WARNING: HEAVY SPOILERS FOLLOW] Despite my original trepidation concerning this film and its concepts, I was surprised and deeply touched by what ended up being a poignant and nuanced story of life; both inside and out.

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TITLE: Wrong


AUTHOR: Papillon

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki , sadly confronting you one day, saying stuff like, “I see the way you look at him.” and “I know how you feel about him. I understand.” You are confused, and you ask him what he means. Then he tells you that he knows you are in love with Thor. You look at him shocked, as you are not in love with Thor at all…



The wind was heavy that night. It dried her tears before they had the chance to make it more than halfway down her face. Her eyes were bloodshot from the hour she’d spent up in the tower, stargazing, trying to decide.

Loki didn’t love her anymore.

It was obvious.

In one short month, he’d gone from the doting lover, to a man who would hardly be seen with her neither in public nor private. The idea that she could repel him so badly made her stomach ache worse than ever before. It felt as if tiny droplets of acid were burning her belly up as she remembered everything they’d shared and all they had been.

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