now and then us


I ran in a world of silence until you came along. And I watched you change from an introverted and haunted man anchored down by the past into someone who found something to run to instead to run from. It started with Iris.

I see a lot of millennials already shitting on gen z for the whole tide pod thing


Did y’all already forget about the fucking cinnamon challenge????

How about planking??????

And let’s not forget which generation started superwholock?????????

That’s right now sit down and shut the fuck up

Abu Hurairah (May Allah be pleased with him) reported:

The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said, “May Allah show mercy to a man who gets up during the night and performs Salat, awakens his wife to pray and if she refuses, he sprinkles water on her face (to make her get up). May Allah show mercy to a woman who gets up during the night and performs Salat, awakens her husband for the same purpose; and if he refuses, she sprinkles water on his face." [Abu Dawud].

Riyad as-Salihin- Book 9- Hadith 1183 

Thank you for the recent support guys about me taking a hiatus on and off since I’m mentally unwell but???

With the recent events in the tag going on I wanted to talk about it some. I haven’t been here as long as alot of you but I still think I have a right to my own opinion on this. It’s below the read more.

Keep reading

Little of Your Love

This is @littlemulattokitten fault <3

@synoir @nerysdax @snipandsnail @riverwriter @weirdhunterangel @perf-patricia @honeyweeds @sissannis @viskers @hollowg1rl - please tell me if i’m annoying you by tagging you <3

They weren’t in a relationship.

They were barely holding together a friendship.

They fought about any and everything – her friends, his friends, the case they were working, how idiotic the parking was around their building, the prime minister, Brex-

They worked together late into the night and he brought her coffee and she brought him lunch and occasionally, he took her to dinner and they spent the night eating fancy food and drinking fancy wine and giggling at each other across the table like a pair of teenagers

They went home to his flat

They went home to hers

She had a toothbrush, a pack of make-up removal wipes and a change of clothes at his.

He had a toothbrush and a razor, a clean shirt and a bottle of aftershave, that Hermione knew he’d left on purpose after she’d spent one particular evening smelling him every five seconds, at hers.

But they weren’t in a relationship.

Until Hermione had to pee on a stick after throwing up four days in a row – she’d tried to blame it on that shady looking Indian Tom had dragged her too earlier in the week but he’d shared the korma with her and he was fine – and the positive sign had left her speechless and him, well Hermione wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

He’d simply stared at the stick, stared at her, shrugged and pulled her back into bed before unpausing the television and resumed their Sunday morning, watching Game of Thrones.

His hand, consciously or not had made its way to her stomach and started to rub tiny little circles in a pattern. That was all the acknowledgement Hermione knew she was going to get from him, at that moment anyway.

She moved into his apartment. It was bigger than hers and in a nicer area and -

He brought a cot.

She came home one afternoon after lunch with Ginny, to find him building it in the spare room, the nursery.

He looked like a deer in the headlights when he looked up to find her just watching him.

“Having fun?” She asked smirking

“Shut up” he mumbled, before getting back to work, blatantly ignoring the instructions discarded beside him.

Their friends took the news surprisingly well. Apparently sneaking around and pretending you’re not in a relationship is fine if you have idiots for friends, which clearly, they did not.  

The pregnancy was a surprise to some of them, Harry in particular was shocked. Draco, who had apparently shown up to Tom’s on more than one occasion and upon hearing the keening cries of them both had left without confronting either of them, was only surprised this announcement hadn’t happened before now.

Ginny and Lavender and Luna, even Cho, showered Hermione with congratulations and purchased ridiculous amounts of baby clothes and -

Their friends took the news surprisingly well.

Their parents were less enthusiastic.

Tom’s father made some comment about it being a ‘bastard’ before Hermione had even got out of the car and that was that.

Hermione’s father had hit Tom and her mother had cried. Tom had held Hermione all night as she cried in his arms, the word 'slut’ and 'ashamed’ and 'disgrace’ falling from her mouth as she remembered what they’d said.

“It doesn’t matter” Tom said, still clutching her to his chest, the tiny bump of their baby nestled against his stomach, “they don’t matter.”

Hermione felt her heart clench at his words and nodded.

“We matter” he murmured into her hair, kissing her forehead.

They decided not to find out the sex. It didn’t matter to either of them, only that they were healthy and growing and -

The apartment was baby-proofed, prams and bottles and onesies purchased.  

Hermione went on maternity leave at the end of August and Tom took a promotion - they were more than comfortable.

Maternity leave meant a lot of free time. She’d get up with Tom in the mornings and when he went to work she’d 'nest’ as Ginny had mockingly called it, cleaning and dusting until she was too tired to do anymore. She’d have some lunch, read a book or write a paper until she passed out and woke up when she heard Tom coming through the door.

Even in the days of their non-relationship they’d had a lot of sex, but now with pregnancy hormones and an entire day filled with trivial and meaningless tasks, Hermione’s sex drive was through the roof.

Before Tom had even come into the living room she was wet for him, and like the bastard she knew him to be, he waited for her to beg.

“Please Tom” she keened, one hand pinching her already sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of the dress she’d thrown on this morning, the other slid under her underwear and bucking against her cunt.

“Of course, love” Tom sighed dramatically, smirking at her as he crossed the room and knelt between her legs.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

Then his tongue had her rolling them for a whole different reason.

Her water broke one night in October.  

She was a week early and as the amniotic fluid splashed onto the bathroom floor and dripped down her leg, Hermione felt calm. Which was good, necessary really because when she’d waddled into the living room and told Tom his face became deathly white and he began to panic.

It was cute really. Hermione had never, never seen him so riled up or panicked or -

Tom Riddle did not panic, except apparently, when his girlfriend was in labour  

“Ok. Ok have you got everything? Have you got shoes?” He asked moving from room to room gathering his keys and-

Hermione stood in the hall, coat on and ready to go.

“I’m wearing them” she called, not bothering to mask her amusement at how flustered he was.

“Ok obviously and the hospital bag -”

“No I don’t-”

“SHIT! Hermione where is it? Fuck I thought I put it-”


“-left it beside the couch-”


He stopped moving and Hermione smiled gently at him even as she waddled down the hall towards him knowing that any second now another contraction was going to ripple through her body.  

She didn’t say anything, simply put one arm around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. She felt him relax against her and took the moment, while he was distracted, to lift his left hand, hospital bag grasped tightly in it, to his eyeline.

“Oh” he whispered, breaking from the kiss.

“Oh” she muttered, leaning into him as the contraction hit.

Isabella Merope Riddle was born on the seventh of October at one-minute past six and at two minutes past six when the quiet bundle of blankets was placed into his arms, Tom Riddle found himself falling in love for the second time in his life.

It occurred to him at that moment, while Hermione was still being poked and prodded and helped into a better sitting position on the bed that he’d never told his girlfriend that he loved her.  

That she drove him around the fucking bend with her arguments and her stubbornness and her never ending black hair slides that were littered around the bathroom and the kitchen and their -

“I love you” he said.

Hermione looked up, expecting to see him staring at the baby but he was looking right at her and she knew he’d meant the words for her.

They’d never said them. She didn’t know how he felt and she had never wanted to put herself and her obvious feelings for him into the open incase he didn’t feel the same.

Now though, as he stepped forward with their baby in his arms and sat beside her placing Isabella in her arms she knew he did.

“I love you too.”