that is something i can work with

Simple. (pt.9 of Sonas/Happiness)

Hi guys, I really hope you like this chapter. I spent a long time thinking about it and what I wanted was something that captures the best of these characters. Not just their love, but their humour, resilience and kindness too and that is what I have tried to write here. Thank you for all those of you who have followed this story so far, thank you to @yesfangirl for the prompt which has led me down this route and thank you to everyone who shares my work and takes the time to say something nice. Much love, Han xxx

p.s. you can find the links to the rest of this series here:

Jamie’s eyes fluttered open again before the sun was fully risen. Pale pink light was filtering through the windows, casting a faint rosy glow across the room and casting squat shadows.

For a moment, his mind was blank, memory lost in the foggy space between sleep and waking and then it all rushed back. Brianna. His daughter! Ah Dhia!

He sat up, careful not to wake Claire, and got out of bed, crossing to the window and easing it open. He needed air and drank huge gulps of it as quietly as he could whilst waiting for his heart to slow back to its regular rhythm.


Jamie smiled, laughed and then realised he was about to cry and closed his eyes tightly, forcing the emotion back. He would not meet his daughter with red-rimmed eyes and a wobbly chin. God! The thought alone made his stomach knot with shame.

As if eager to make its presence felt more keenly, Jamie’s stomach rumbled loudly and he realised with a vague sense of surprise that he was ravenous. Not surprising considering it had been nearly eighteen hours since he last ate. He decided to shave before eating. The stubble on his cheeks was itchy but the moment he was done and suitably fresh faced, Jamie tugged his breeks on, not bothering with a shirt or stockings and barefooted, made his way down to the kitchen, casting a lingering look at the door behind which Brianna was still asleep before descending the stairs.

There were scones in the breadbox that Jenny, as their mother before them, kept stocked free for whoever was hungry to rummage through and help themselves. Jamie helped himself to a generous dollop of jam and then another for good measure and set about the scone, using his right palm as a plate.

As he lifted the last morsel to his mouth, a blob of jam fell from the crudely broken scone and slid down his forearm. Without thinking, Jamie lifted his arm and craned his neck, trying to lick the smear of strawberry from his elbow.


His head snapped up and his eyes widened in shock. Brianna stood in the doorway, a chamber pot held out before her like a bizarre offering, her own face a mirror of his and her cheeks rapidly reddening, just as Jamie’s were. She was wearing Claire’s dressing gown, a rich blue that contrasted beautifully with her red hair and Jamie could scarcely believe how incredibly beautiful their child was. Despite seeing her the night before, looking at her now, poised and elegant as her mother, Jamie found himself at a loss for words.

“I’m sorry … I was just trying to get outside …”

The lass looked down at the pot in her hands and her face flamed a truly magnificent shade of crimson. Jamie was recovering his composure quickly and he smiled, hoping it looked welcoming, encouraging, and fatherly and not the deranged grin of a fool who was just licking his own arm.

“I didna hear you approach, you have a light footstep, lass.”

She gawped at him as if he had spoken a completely different language.


Jamie opened his mouth to say something but she cut across him.

“Are you my … I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but are you Jamie?”


Time seemed to slow down for Bree in the second between the question leaving her lips and Jamie … her father … answering her.

“Aye, and you are Brianna.”

The way he said her name was strange and not at all like anyone else had pronounced it. Jenny and Ian had been careful to say it exactly as Mama had when they had been introduced but Jamie said it with a completely different inflection. It was as if the word meant something more to him than just being her name, he spoke with a sort of reverence that made her feel at once incredibly self-conscious but also very happy.

“I am.”

She stood awkwardly for a moment. Neither of them seemed to know what to say and then Jamie, stepped forward and held out his hand.

“Can I take that for ye?”

Bree looked down and remembered afresh that she was holding a pot of pee and wanted nothing more than the ground to swallow her whole.

“No, it’s fine. I … Oh God. Okay I’m going to get rid of this … if that’s alright?”

She stammered and hurried to the kitchen door and out into the courtyard before he could answer. Around the side of the house, Bree set the pot down, closed her eyes and leant back against the sturdy stone and took three very long, very deep breaths. Once she had let the last one go, she opened her eyes and very quietly, but distinctly said


That said, she felt immediately slightly better. She knew he would be waiting for her and she knew, instinctively knew, that he would be kind and patient and he wouldn’t be annoyed that she had just run out on him, babbling like a crazy person. He had that air about him, gentle despite his size and God! He was huge! Mama had made him sound like a giant and he wasn’t that but he wasn’t far from it either. Bree had noticed the size of his hands and the breadth of his shoulders immediately, but when he had noticed her and drawn himself up to his full height … she snorted. Well she was six foot tall herself, he was hardly likely to be a small man, was he?

And they looked so similar too! Everyone had said it. Mama of course, Jenny and Ian and all of her cousins had made some exclamation to that effect but seeing it for herself had been a bit of a shock because they truly were startlingly alike.

Jamie. James. Father. Certainly not Daddy. Never that.

Bree shook her head. She didn’t know what to call him at all. ‘Jamie’ felt a little rude, a sort of improper use of the affectionate pet-name his family and friends called him. ‘James’ sounded too stern and ‘Father’ was painfully formal and perhaps even more improper because despite what Mama thought, there was a chance that he didn’t actually want that relationship with her at all.

Bree wished fervently that her mother or Jenny, anyone really, would get up and come and save them both from the clumsiness of the encounter. She knew she should go back in; it wasn’t fair to just leave him stood there in the kitchen. She smoothed her hair and then lifted her chin and made her way back to the kitchen.


Jamie watched his daughter hurry past the window, her gaze rigidly on the garden path in front of her. The moment she was out of sight, Jamie slapped his forehead with the palm of his left hand and closed his eyes, making a noise that was half-way between a moan and a laugh. The poor thing! She had just been trying to go quietly about her business and instead stumbled upon her father, half-naked and licking jam from his arm like a dim-witted child.

His back! Jamie didn’t think she had seen it but she surely would if he didn’t dress himself properly before she returned. He barrelled from the kitchen and took the stairs three at a time, snatching a clean, white shirt from his dresser before sprinting back down the stairs, tugging it over his head as he went.

He entered the kitchen cautiously in case she should have already come back and was relieved to find it empty. What would Claire do? Tea. He should make a pot of tea, it would give him something to do with his hands if nothing else.

He crouched by the stove, packing in wood carefully to make sure it stacked evenly and as he worked, calm began to descend. The familiar task was gratifyingly soothing to his nerves and as he struck the flint over the little pinch of kindling fluff, Jamie felt the last of the tension leave his shoulders and heard the back door ease open.


Bree had paused by the window watching him work on the stove and as she watched him, her heartbeat slowed and she felt a small smile tug at the corner of her mouth. He had put a shirt on and was building a small fire, most likely for tea judging by the kettle on the table. Whilst she wasn’t exactly used to seeing people stoke fires just to make a cup of tea or coffee, it was the sort of domestic chore that was familiar enough to normalise most situations and if she helped, it would give her something to do with her hands if nothing else.

“Hi, sorry about that.”

“No bother.”

Bree noticed that when he smiled at her over his shoulder, the smile reached all the way to his eyes and it relaxed her slightly more.

“Would you like me to fill the kettle?”

“If ye would, aye. That would be a help.”

Bree nodded and lifted the heavy black iron, carrying it over to the sink where Jenny kept buckets of water from the well overnight ready for the morning. She filled it halfway and carried it back toward Jamie who had finished with the fire and was now standing again.

As he took it from her, their hands brushed and Bree was shocked by how warm he was despite the slight chill in the kitchen. He was as warm as she was.

Jamie gave her another one of those eye-smiles and Bree found herself returning it without even thinking.

“This is strange, is it no?”

Jamie gestured for her to sit at the table and Bree did so, picking up a small saltshaker and rolling it between her palms, absently.

“Yeah. I mean, it is strange for me but it must be for you too. I hope you don’t mind me being here, this is your home and I …”

Bree trailed off shrugging

“Whatever is mine is also yours, Brianna. As to ye being here, no I dinna mind at all. Quite the opposite. I am truly glad to meet you.”

Bree brushed her hair behind her ear and smiled shyly

“Thank you. I … ah … I’m really sorry but I don’t … I don’t know what I should call you?”

He seemed to consider this for a moment, his brows drawing in ever so slightly and his fingers drummed once upon the table, something Bree herself did when thinking she realised with a small start.

“Weel, ye may call me ‘Jamie’ if ye wish, most people do but if you would like, and if it wouldna be too presumptuous of me, maybe ye could call me ‘Da’.”

“Da? Is that Gaelic for father?”

Bree asked and saw his chest swell and his lip quiver ever so slightly as he said

“No lass, it’s only simple.”


Jamie held his breath as Brianna considered the options he had given. Her hands were gathered neatly around the saltcellar and Jamie desperately wanted to reach out and fold his fingers around hers. To try and convey through his touch everything that he felt but he forced himself to remain still, he didn’t want to frighten her or force anything upon her.

“Da? Is that Gaelic for father?”

Jamie swallowed the lump which bobbed in his throat and tried to control the tremble of his lower lip.

“No lass, it’s only simple.”


She repeated the word as if testing it and then smiled brightly at him and to Jamie it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, the light of it warming him from the inside out.

“I don’t know how I pictured meeting you but it wasn’t like this. It’s fine though, just different.”

She shrugged again and Jamie grinned despite himself

“Aye, I must have imagined it a thousand score times and maybe more over the years, but I was never looking such a dolt as that in my dreams.”

Bree nodded, eager to join in with his joke

“I wasn’t expecting to be carrying my pee a chamber pot.”

Their eyes met across the table, the last of the tension left them, and suddenly they were both laughing.

“I’m sorry, Brianna. Truly for the first impression ye had of me and for scarin’ ye half-to death.”

Jamie reached his hand across the table in invitation and Bree placed her own hand over his as if it were the most natural thing in the world and really in a way, it was.

“Don’t be. It was fine. Mama will think it’s hilarious!”

“Och! Aye no doubt she will.”

Jamie nodded in agreement and squeezed her fingers.

“I daresay everyone has been commenting on how similar ye and I look, and we do. But I would like to tell ye also that you have so much of your mother about ye. I often … over the years I often thought about you and what ye might be doing and I knew ye would be beautiful and canny but I never could have imagined just how perfect ye truly are, Brianna.”

Jamie watched the tips of his daughters ears glow pink with pleasure at the compliment and was glad to have made her feel so.

“Thank you … Da.”

Bree squeezed his fingers back, and just like that, everything was simple. 

Sometimes, I’ll walk into a store and walk by something that looks like it could be used for tickling, so I’ll have to stop and feel it. This happens most often with hairbrushes. I’ll pick it up and run it against my palm, or I’ll just feel the bristles with my thumb. I’ve also considered buying a lot of those things, but it seems weird to come up with all these different objects and have to be like, “Yes. These are for normal things.”

thenaiads  asked:

Wait, wait is confused. I'm fine that Nightmare overcome his negative feelings and that it does not corrupt the apple, but he is always a negative spirit so should not that apple become a black apple or something? Especially now that it represents the soul of Nightmare? How does this work? And by the way, if Dream has wings and a sword like an angel/knight, does Nightmare have that kind of sickle like witches and/or other similar creatures (as seen in somr illustrations)?

Personally, I don’t see it as having anything to do with his spirit being composed of negative energy. I think it was his overwhelming feelings that corrupted it in the original.

For their weapons, one end of Nightmare’s staff can take on various forms, but is generally in the shape of a spear or, like you said, a sickle. Honestly, it’s a total coincidence that works pretty well in the setting.

I made it.... Reyes made me do crazy thing - example #1

Awesome @makocartwheels came up with a wonderful idea -  Reyes Weekly Prompt !  You can create fanfic, fanart, screenshots, etc on Reyes!  There will be a new prompt each week!  Since I have got F- on writing so I choose to draw.  That’s probably the only thing I can (kind of) manage….^^;;

This week’s prompt is : “I don’t want to go home: a time when Reyes didn’t want to return to home or duty”.

This is pre-Andromeda, Reyes was still working for the Alliance. He just finished his last mission (+ a shady side job).  He was walking down the hallway, heading home. Something caught his eyes and he stopped walking.  Suddenly he lost the desire to head home and he just stood there, leaning on the window and started pondering.. (or scheming)…

Okay?  Here is the image:

The poster is my assignment.  I was doing a thumbnail on one of Dean Conrwell’s painting…^^;;;  I stupidly drew Reyes’ on the same page so I had to include the thumbnail in this drawing so I made it into a poster. LOL

Okay!  I am going to bed now!  I think I have drawn enough for the day!

Something that’s been difficult for me to accept

as a passionate overachiever who was lucky enough to attend college with a bunch of other passionate overachievers: you don’t have to get a job in your field. I have friends who are academics, teachers, doctors, and actual literal rocket scientists, and they’ve been able to find work doing what they love and that’s great! But as someone who loves teaching but is terrified of unruly classrooms, I am slowly coming to realize that I can’t make a living by tutoring and/or teaching willing participants (read: adults). I love doing those things, and I will continue doing them in a volunteer capacity! There are lots of places to volunteer as a tutor/teacher; I volunteer teaching a teenager English right now, and I love it! But in terms of making money? I’m currently looking at management trainee programs at a grocery store. It’s not my passion, but it’s a job I can get reasonable enjoyment from, and a job that I feel is worthwhile, because people gotta eat. (That is still an important requirement for me; being something like an investment banker who helps rich people get richer is not something I’d find fulfilling.) You can still do what you love, even if it’s not your full-time job.

Something I’ve realised working in retail is that………..ppl just don’t fucking read……

  • fanfic writer: *writing* Oh wow, they are going to love this. This is by far my best work!
  • fic: *witty lines* *perfect love making* *fluffy enough to kill us all* *a dash of angst, a smidgen of hurt/comfort*
  • fanfic writer: Oh man. This is it. This will be my legacy! *sweats into fic* *bleeds into fic* *cries into fic* *spends days perfecting the grammar and verbage and sex scenes* *has 15 betas look over it*
  • fanfic writer: Okay. It is finally time to release my baby on the world. Here you go fandom. You're welcome.
  • fandom: Ha, cute. *like* *kudos*
  • fanfic writer: :/
  • * * *
  • same fanfic writer: *writing* Whatever. This is shit, I don't even care right now. A singing squirrel? Sure, let's do it. Haha, cheesy lines that make no sense, sure. Grammatical errors out the wazoo? Why not. No one's going to read this piece of crap anyway, I literally wrote it on a scrap of 1 ply toilet paper with a broken yellow crayon.
  • fanfic writer: LOL *post*
  • fanfic writer: *sigh*

@thisshouldbegayer, I hope you don’t expect Lance will be able to keep his hands off Keith from now on, hahaha

  • Meet Park Jimin. born on October 13, 1995, in Busan. He is the main vocalist and dancer of BTS. 

Originally posted by kpopidolaegyooo

  • Before becoming this celestial creature who inspires youth to pursue their dreams, he was a child with none but a will to become either a chef or a police officer. 

Originally posted by taehnwnho

  • His dream will come to shape when he sees a south Korean artist named Rain. At the time he would laugh if he heard that years later he will have to dance to one of his songs in front of the world.

Originally posted by haru-haru10

  • He falls in love at 8th grade with dancing. A love he will keep dear … a love that will change his path forever.

Originally posted by haninnoona

  • He will work hard for his dream and get into Busan High School of Arts as the top student in modern dance, but will later transfer to Korea Arts High School where he will meet one of the 6 guys that will share his destiny: Kim Taehyung (V). 

Originally posted by bvng-moves

  • None of them knew at the time how valuable one will become to the other, that they will share smiles and pains and call each other soulmates.

Originally posted by vmonism

  • Seasons pass and Jimin will audition to BigHit, Sweaty palms and shaky voice, this shy guy will sing … was someone that scared and timid made for the stage? People who didn’t know of his duality will mock even the idea of it.  After a poor start caused by stress, fear will fade when it’s time to dance along with the judges' hesitation: he was a raw diamond. 

Originally posted by jiminimised

  • Jimin will get accepted into this small company, full of trainees with more experience and chances to debut than him. He said only later “as a trainee, I really didn’t know if I’d ever get to debut”. He used to be perceived as talented and showered with compliments by both his professors and parents in his hometown, arriving at Seoul. Negative thoughts will start to build up: “Why is everyone better than me? Do I have no talent? … Am I no good? Should I give up? Is this worth it”. Being a guy who hates losing he will ignore the hardship and just work harder.

Originally posted by bts-we-are-bulletproof

  • And indeed, hard work paid off. Jimin with only one year of training will join Big Hit’s first group: Bangtan Seonyondan. During BTS first year, he will have the chance to write a letter and read it to ARMYs. His face will carry his signature smile at first but word after word, memories of that harsh year will start to hit him … and tears will fall. He will say that he thought of giving up endless times and that he is thankful he did not.

Originally posted by btsleepy

  • During BTS first years, they were hated and belittled by many. Jimin who though debuting was the hardest thing will come to laugh at his naive past self. He will recall what made him come through that harsh year: “hard work”. Even if he is known to be the boy who helps and supports every member, he is the kind who tries to solve his own problems … He blames no one but himself. 

Originally posted by parkjiminz

  • He didn’t know at the time that he was feeding a complex he kept from the past that will lead to a dangerous situation: He will start viewing himself as “fat” and be more self-conscious about his appearance than ever. And so … *sigh* … 

Originally posted by jiminimised

  • he will start starving himself in a middle of a busy schedule where even sleep is a luxury, to shortly after fall into a big depression. Smiling during the day to cameras and …

Originally posted by wonhoslilmonster

  •  wiping sweat and tears training with all his might for hours. 

Originally posted by taehnwnho

  • Jimin called having abs a “homework”. ARMYs loved his abs … but no one knew the price the poor boy paid for the screams of the crowd.

Originally posted by btsdaddy

  • Receiving hate from others is hard, yet imagine hating your own self? we can hide from people yet we can’t run away from our thoughts.
  • Jimin is also the kind to help everyone but solves his own problems. A workaholic who hates losing and get veeery stubborn. The members even said, he is the scariest when he gets angry. 

Originally posted by destiellive

  • But Jin couldn’t stand seeing Jimin in constant pain so he got him out of it. It took Seokjin time and effort but it was worth it as his junior started to eat regularly and accept that he too can have flaws. 

Originally posted by kim-aris

  • All of this situation made Jimin grow not only as an artist but also as a person, to become idolized by many. People tend to think Jimin was naturally good at all he does. Jungkook’s words when he described JM will quickly tell you otherwise “He tries the hardest! He watches music videos all day long … When I watch him, he looks cool”

Originally posted by eatupbangtan

  • He is the protégé of both BTS, the managers and the whole fandom so no one can refuse him a favor. 

Originally posted by jeimin

  • Have you ever thought why did Jimin not release any cover song alone? Most people learn from their mistakes but there are some that prefer to not allow any. As Jimin stated in both Bon Voyage S2 and BTS Wings concept book, he is still not pleased by his singing. 

Originally posted by blackandwhitebangtan

  • People mostly say “I like Jimin’s voice” when he worked so hard he wants to hear “Jimin sang well” because a good voice is something you are born with, singing well is something you learn and work hard to achieve. 

Originally posted by notkimtaehyung

  • There is no way we can change Jimin’s way of thinking, but maybe we can choose better words and simply stand by him the way Jin and the members did in the past.

Originally posted by haninnoona

  • Jimin is like a moon reflecting all the light he gathers on us with a smile. Yet where we stand no matter what, we will never see his dark side. Neitherless, we still know it’s there. 

Originally posted by lavender-kills

  • You may probably already adore Jimin the singer, dancer, and performer but please don’t forget the one who needs more love: Jimin the human. 

Originally posted by blackandwhitebangtan

Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations, I am happy destiny led him our way so we can open even better paths for not only Jimin but all BTS.
If you enjoyed this post you may also like Jhope’s story HERE
By @mimibtsghost 


i could write infinite interactions between these two and even if it wasnt funny i would at least never be bored


#snaibselpride2017 × day #03: movie au
── d.e.b.s (2004)


So this is a silly little thing I wrote for my lovely friend @anuecc. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! 💙 I am still intent on dragging your cute, yoga toned ass down to drarry hell ;)

Harry should have known this was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea. But to be fair, who in Merlin’s name would have expected Draco Malfoy showing up here, looking… like this?

“Malfoy,” Harry spluttered, his voice sounding embarrassingly raspy. “Are you… Is that a crop top?”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of his chest, seeming unconcerned.

“Is that what this is called?”

Harry swallowed around the lump that was building in his throat. Dear Merlin! Malfoy’s stomach looked simply delicious! And the way his trousers hugged his hips!

“Um… aren’t those trousers a little tight?”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes.

“I was told this is what Muggles wear when they do…” He waved a hand around in the air, clearly searching for the right word. “Whatever this is called.”

“It’s called Yoga,” Harry sighed, “and we’re going to be late. Come on.”

Harry held the door open for him and immediately wished he had gone in first. Watching Malfoy’s perfect bum move in those trousers was torture. Malfoy briefly hesitated after a few steps, looking around the room.

“What is this, Potter?” he hissed under his breath. “We’re the only blokes here.”

Harry blushed and wordlessly made his way to the last two spare yoga mats, right in the middle of the room.

“I will kill Shacklebolt for this,” Harry heard Malfoy mutter. “Last week, he sent us on that bloody camping trip and now this?”

Harry sighed as he sat down on his yoga mat. He peeked at the two girls beside him, who were laughing about something and tying their blonde hair into buns. Trying to drop his voice into a whisper, so they wouldn’t hear, he spat, “It would be so much easier if you weren’t such a prat, Malfoy. He wants us to get along. I hate to say this, but we’ve compromised two of our missions now because we couldn’t agree on-”

“That wasn’t my fault,” Malfoy interrupted him. “My approach was better than yours. Why did I have to get you as my partner anyway?”

“Well, maybe you should have thought about that before you applied to become an Auror. You knew it was what I wanted to do and you knew there would be a chance we would end up as partners. Just my luck.” Harry muttered the last part under his breath, but Malfoy must have heard, because he shot Harry a dark look, before plopping down on the yoga mat in front of him.

“Hello everyone,” the instructor said in an overly breathy voice. Harry suspected it was meant to be soothing, but it just sounded really odd.

“We will begin today’s class by trying to reconnect to our breath,” she continued. “Now, bring your palms together in front of your heart, really press them together and close your eyes.”

“You must be kidding me,” Harry heard Malfoy sneer.

“Now take a deep breath in through your nose… but do it gently…”

Harry startled at the collective intake of breath that sounded like a giant was gasping.

“… and then press your lips together as you slooooowly exhale. Imagine that the sound you’re making right now is the sound of ocean waves rolling in and out, in and out…”

Harry could practically see Malfoy rolling his eyes, even from the back of his head.

“Breathe innnn…. breathe ou-hhhh-t.”

“Seriously, she wants to teach me how to breathe?” Malfoy snarled, turning his head back to Harry.

“Stop complaining and just do it,” Harry whispered.

Of course, Malfoy continued with his little commentary.

“…Downward-facing dog? Who came up with that name?”

“…Ow! This is not a natural pose for a human!”

“…What do you mean ‘lift your leg’? If I do that, I’m never going to have any children!”

“…Merlin, is this woman trying to break my neck?”

Harry pressed his lips into a tight line to keep himself from snickering. Malfoy’s hissing was rather distracting. As was…

“Potter! Stop staring at my arse!”

“Am not,” Harry mumbled, mentally slapping himself for getting caught like that.

“Good, good,” the instructor crooned. “Now, we take a little break. Sit down on your yoga mat and let the person next to you massage your feet.

“Ugh, why feet,” the girl next to Harry groaned. He smiled at her awkwardly, to which she bit her lip.

“No offense,” she said, “but I’m not letting a stranger touch my feet.”

“Fair enough,” Harry mumbled and turned to Malfoy.

“Don’t you dare, Potter,” he growled, when Harry stretched out his hands towards his feet.

“Yeah okay, maybe we skip that one,” Harry muttered sheepishly.

“We should have skipped the whole class.”

Harry usually didn’t agree with Malfoy, but when the instructor told them they would be doing partner poses now, he cursed Kingsley under his breath.

“Now, stand up and face each other.”

They did, but not without scowling at each other.

“Place your feet firmly on the ground and stretch out your hands. Press your palms against the palms of your partner.”

Harry almost flinched when their hands touched. If he had known touching would be involved, he probably would have refused to come here altogether. Thinking about touching Malfoy in the privacy of his own home was one thing, but actually doing it in a room with a bunch of strangers, that was something else entirely. Why did Malfoy have to be so handsome? It was irritating.

“Now slowly bend forward,” the instructor said in her breathy voice, “until your foreheads are touching. Your arms should be up, over your head.”

Harry tried to control his face, praying he wasn’t blushing. When his black hair mingled with blonde, he heard Malfoy making an odd sound.

“This is disgusting,” Malfoy muttered. “We’re both sweating.”

“And it wouldn’t be disgusting if we weren’t?”

Harry startled when Malfoy slightly raised his chin. Their noses were touching and Harry could feel Malfoy’s breath on his lips.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you have been looking at me all day,” Malfoy said with narrowed eyes. “Or how I woke up with an arm draped over me when we were camping last week.”

“Oh. I- I thought you woke up after me,” Harry mumbled, definitely blushing now. “You didn’t say anything about it.”

Yes, why hadn’t Malfoy said anything about that? He could have made fun of Harry for days.

“You really are thick, Potter,” Malfoy said in a teasing tone, as the instructor walked by them to correct the pose of the couple beside them.

“Good job everyone. Now, turn around, so you’re back to back and link your arms at the elbows.”

“Um, Malfoy,” Harry said, when Malfoy stepped closer to him and put his hands on Harry’s hip. “I think she just told us to turn around.”

Malfoy’s lips stretched into a huge smirk. He leaned forward, his cheek briefly brushing Harry’s, until his lips were right at Harry’s ear.

“I won’t stop you if you want to.”

Harry choked on his own breath, his eyes going wide.

“Come on,” Malfoy chuckled, “we’re hitting the showers.”

“But class is not over yet,” Harry mumbled absentmindedly.

“Well, I want to try some… different kind of poses.”

“Oh,” was all Harry was able to say.

“You do remember how to do a water repellant charm, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Why?” Harry frowned.

“We need to use it on your Muggle distant-talking device.”

“My… you mean my phone.”

Malfoy nodded.

“And why exactly do we need to do that?”

“Well, after Shacklebolt went through all this trouble, so we would get along, he really should get something in return for his hard work.”

Harry stared blankly at him.


“We’ll send him proof,” Malfoy winked.

“We’ll- what?”

“Come on, Potter,” Malfoy chuckled darkly as he tugged Harry forward, “we have important Auror business to attend to.”

Special thanks to @demelzasings, the Ellipsis Queen! :D

i’m sorry but how the hell is tony stark selfish? the man flew a fucking missile into OUTER SPACE knowing that there was a chance he could die, but lived and ended up suffering from ptsd from it. also the man made his company stop selling weapons after seeing how dangerous they could be and seeing it in the arms of terrorists. let’s not also forget that he went after his mentor when he learned that he was dealing under the table. this is also the same man who tried to create ultron with the idea of helping the world when the avengers can’t (like oh idk when there’s some random ass alien invasion???). he also wanted accountability for his team, since they’ve destroyed manhattan, dropped a city, which resulted in MANY lives lost, also let’s not forget the incident in lagos, where people died. he also was most likely the one hooking up his team with nice gear, the same team where most of them turned their backs on him to help a guy who seemed more worried about the safety of one friend, which resulted in all their arrests when st//ve and the friend got out fine. 

but tony stark is the selfish one of the group?