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Single Parent AUs

🚘 My muse is on a public transport and their 2-year-old won’t stop crying, except your muse just smiled, cooed, etc. at them and they did

👧 My muse asked your muse to babysit one time, and now their child keeps asking when you will be back.

🛒 Your muse is at the store with their crying baby, and my muse swoops in to help

👶 My muse’s child’s first word is your muse’s name or they call you momma/dadda.

🛌 Your muse has been sleeping at mine because your muse’s house is being renovated and is helping with my muse’s baby.

💘 Our muses have been on a few dates and the child just asked when we were getting married.

🍎 Your muse’s child is in my muse’s pre-k or kindergarten class.

🙆 Your muse hires my muse to be a live-in nanny.

😠 Our muses’ children are best friends but our muses are enemies.

✂️ Your muse crouched down to coo at my muse’s baby, but my muse forgot to tell yours that their favorite thing to do is play with hair and now they won’t let go of your muse.

🔁 For reversed roles

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To do list.

Write up Harry Potter Verse Write up Pirates of the Caribbean verse. Starter call? / Plotting call? 1 draft.

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if you insult james norrington in front of me there is no chance of you making it out alive

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Something about a huge, scary, hulking man being brought to his knees by a much smaller fiery cute woman just gets my gears going, hot damn. 

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thescourgeofpiracy:

James had reached somewhat of a bottleneck in his career. Rear Admiral was an accomplishment, to be sure, one that he was quite proud of, certainly. But he knew, without the unexpected and entirely unwelcome letter from his father, that a marriage into a good family–gentry, at worst–would guarantee his continued advancement. He was the eldest son and thus heir to his father’s estate and fortune as well, and although James was more than happy to let Edward and the rest of his family do whatever they wanted with both, it was expected for a man of his station to marry.

He was forty years old. It had been ten years since Elizabeth Swann had very publicly ended their engagement. He had not seen her in nearly as long, not since he freed her from the brig of the Flying Dutchman and was stabbed by the father of the man for which she’d thrown him over. The story was that William Turner the younger now sailed the seas as the master of the Flying Dutchman, after having slain Jones, and James figured they would have married. Yet he himself had stalled, senselessly. His excuse was he found fulfillment in his work, and he did, and that he would have nephews and nieces to care for him in his old age, which he did. James was not opposed necessarily to a marriage of convenience, but the last thing he wanted to do was marry a woman who expected what he could not give.

The Dawsons were a wealthy and well-connected family, with an eligible daughter. When the mother had written to arrange an introduction, he had decided to accept, despite having turned down many such invitations over the years. Perhaps the pressure from his father was finally getting to him, or perhaps, somehow, he was finally ready to let go of the past. Regardless of the reason, he found himself in the garden, where Lani’s mother had informed him she would be.

She seemed to be in her own world, grass staining her dress and charcoal her face, hunched over something she found terribly fascinating. Hat in hand, and having decided to forgo the wig because of the heat–showing his steadily greying cropped brown hair–the admiral approached her curiously. “Are you an artist, Miss Dawson?”

          Lani had heard the footsteps on the grass but she had paid them no mind, she had already told her mother she was going to take no part in this and was all but ready to repeat that when a voice that was distinctly not her mother nor her maid filled the air.

Pulling her gaze away from her sketchpad Lani glanced up at the man, looked back down at her sketchpad and then back to him, blinking owlishly for a moment before she quickly gathered her manners and offered him a polite smile.

“I wouldn't say I was an artist, because that would imply that my art is displayed for others to consume, whereas I draw for myself. Perhaps serial doodler might be more of an apt word to describe me, we all must have our hobbies after all.” She set her papers and charcoal stick down and rose to her feet, offering him a polite curtsy—and accidentally smearing more charcoal from her fingers against the fabric. She took that moment to examine the man her mother had been so adamant to introduce her to. She knew him by reputation—in a town like this gossip was often the life blood of the community—but it was good to put a face to a name and a story.

“But,” She began, her smile turning a little wry at the corners of her lips. “I suppose today I am an artist since everything is for show. You may call me Lani if it pleases you, sir.”

The sharpness of her double meaning was hopefully not missed, and while she was not outright hostile she carried herself with a guarded politeness. Lani found distaste in the entire thing, showing off her skills and dressing herself up like she was a prize horse at a show to be bartered for.

She turned to pick up the sketchpad and gestured towards the bird table across from them as she showed James the page she'd been working on.

There were several charcoal sketches of the local birds, done in a quick but precise enough hand that they could be identified.

“They don't stay still so I have to draw them pretty quickly.” Lani explained with a small shrug and offered him the book. “You're welcome to flip through. It's mostly just wildlife and still life, there’s a few of the ships closer to the front when I spent a day at the docks—maybe one of yours?”

From what she'd heard about James Norrington he was a good man��and one of the islands most eligible bachelors. Lani wondered if he'd been invited to as many balls as she'd been dragged to in the name of finding a match. With that in mind she decided to at least see this meeting through and get to know him a little.

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Kristen Stewart

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arcusignis:

affectionsuggestion :

Tell me about the book you’re reading while I kiss your neck

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woodes rogers, eleanor guthrie, james norrington, any verse.

Fuck, Marry, Get Drunk With. Send me 3 names. ↪ @woodesrogers // accepting

“All three for all three?

Though I suppose if I had to pick Fuck Woodes, Marry James, get drunk with Eleanor.”

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Fuck, Marry, Get Drunk With. Send me 3 names.

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siimplewolf:

It was not odd for Eskel to decide to go for a walk from time to time, to enjoy the fresh air and the green at the park. It was a sunny day and he wanted to take advantage of it, since he’d have to go back to his school soon enough. He loved it more than anything, but sometimes he thought of taking holidays, just to enjoy a bit more the good days that had been happening.

He was quite distracted, thinking about how to tackle the class that was about to come, thinking of different exercises for the younger kids and the beginners when he heard a thud not far from him. He frowned before turning around, finding a girl now sitting on the ground. He arched an eyebrow, quickly noticed that she fell. How did she fall? He wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe tripping on something.

Quickly the man made his way towards her, reaching a hand her way to help her up. “Need a hand?” He asked with a very small, almost unnoticeable apologetic smile. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” The questions came as he observed her for a moment, before his gaze fell to the floor, where the girl’s sketches were scattered around. Without a word he crouched as he started picking them up, not being able to stop himself from taking a quick glance at some of them. And one of them caught him by surprise. It was himself, a sketch of the part of himself that he hated the most. 

He looked at the drawing, the scar perfectly depicted in it as he stood up to his full height and spoke after a pause. “This is… Uh. Very good. You’re very talented.” He praised her with a rather awkward smile as he gave the sketches back to her. “You made the scar not look all that… Bad.” Although he wanted to use another word to describe it.

       This was actually the worst, if she could've just fallen through the ground and straight into hell that would've been so much better for her. Why did he have to turn around and help her? Why did he have to be nice? Why did he have to pick up her drawings and see the very one of himself that she'd been working on? Oh God can she just play dead and maybe he'd go away?

..He wasn't a T-Rex no she couldn't just stay still what the fuck what she thinking?

Lani inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the fact that she had turned an absolutely wonderful shade of pink and she was incredibly embarrassed as she hugged the sketches to her chest to put some sort of shield between them.

“I uh.. thanks, you uhm, have an interesting face—“ Lani brought a hand up to her mouth, her expression getting that more mortified. “Oh my God I mean, uhm, I liked your face—NO—oh God.” She closed her eyes and took another slow breath to try and rein in the absolute disaster she was being. Well she was going to avoid this park for the rest of ever because if she ran into this guy again after this she’d just die.

“Let me try that again. I'm sorry I was drawing you without your consent, I just like to people watch and sketch, sometimes faces catch my eye and I'll do a more detailed piece.” She offered a sheepish, but warm enough smile though it was still obvious she was incredibly embarrassed at absolutely everything.

“I'm okay, I uh, leaned a little too far over the bench trying to stare at you while I was drawing it's my own fault that I fell.” Well if she was going to dig her own grave she may as well put the final nail in the coffin.

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         Lani, in truth, cared little for marriage, especially when it was her families idea of trying to ' tame ' her. Find a strong man to take care of you. She had to stop herself scoffing in front of her father, ridiculous. She could take care of herself and after two failed near engagements there was already talks of her being a spinster—like that bothered her. Good riddance.

Still, it didn't prevent her family from trying, introducing her to all manner of high society men and dragging her to parties and balls when she'd rather be curled up with a book or sketch pad.

Like she was now, currently hiding at the bottom of the garden in the shade of a tree with sketch pad in her lap and charcoal smears across her cheek. Her mother had invited someone over, some navy man and Lani had no intention of leaving the comfort of her spot to deal with another stuck up person trying to woo her for her dowry—how romantic.

Though she expected a servant or worse her mother to come out in the garden and drag her back inside eventually—though she'd be a bit of a sight with grass stains on her dress, barefoot, charcoal on her face and hands.

..Okay maybe she was doing it a little on purpose because if they didn't want to marry her when she was like this at her most comfortable then they didn't deserve her at all.

@thescourgeofpiracy

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remusedlupin:

Remus’ cheek flinched and he brushed at the shoulder of his cloak. He shouldn’t be surprised she wanted nothing more to do with him after the debacle in his office, but he had to try to mend things, didn’t he? Why work at Hogwarts at all if not to make the lives of his students better?

“Lani, I never have anything better to do than help my students. It is hardly a waste—it’s why I’m here.” He could feel the desperation tugging at his words, willing her to understand that it was his own stupidity—his selfishness and weakness, the same as ever—that was to blame. If only he could explain. But even the mere thought of exposing those things he kept hidden made his throat constrict and a dead weight seem to settle inside his chest.

He coughed. “Please, it would be my pleasure,” he said, wondering if things would get better or worse if she accepted his offer.

         The desperation in Remus' tone tugged at her heartstrings—perhaps in being hard upon herself she was being hard on the professor too and the last thing she wanted to do was take out her negativity upon him.

Toe scuffed the grass, nudging a stone and watching it skitter across the ground a few feet away. She felt like an ass now—selfishly not thinking about how her actions might affect Remus. Merlin could the ground just swallow her up right now? Maybe she'd wander into the Whomping Willow while they were looking and it would put her out of her misery.

She managed a smile, though weak at the edges as it was it was a real smile.

“Alright, I mean he can't have gotten too far..” Lips pursed as if to say otherwise. “He's a spotted Owl, called.. uhm..” Her cheeks tinged pinker than the cold kissed colour they were. “Archimedes.. after the Owl from Sword In the Stone. About as grumpy as him too.” There had been that distinct shift in how she was talking, less clipped more ramblely as she settled back into being somewhat comfortable in his presence.

“I have some treats n' stuff so if you find him you can give him a reward. I know bad habit to reward him for bad behaviour but at this point if I stopped feeding him I doubt he'd come back. Silly thing that owl.”

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           There were few things Lani expected, but having Albus Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley on the doorstep to her North London flat at the hour of 9pm definitely topped her list. It had been a year since she'd graduated Hogwarts straight into an internship at the Ministry of Magic for Magical Law—with a sub focus into Magical Creatures and Half Breeds and she'd not seen the old man with that familiar twinkle to his eye since standing in the Great Hall in her best robes shaking his hand.

And now she'd sat them down in her living room, made them a cup of tea and given Arthur a tour of her very Muggle home—with the promise he could come back and take apart her toaster another day.

Arthur had done most of the talking, since they occasionally crossed paths in work she was at least familiar with the patriarch of the Weasley clan but every now and then Dumbledore would quip in just at the right time.

It was safe to say she'd already been sold into the idea of the Order of the Phoenix before Dumbledore had finished his first biscuit.

Which is how Lani found herself now seated at a long dining table at Grimmauld Place, nursing a cup of tea not a few days later listening to Molly Weasley go off on one to Arthur about how she was just a girl and Dumbledore had no right to bring her into this.

“Uhm...” She began, trying to speak above the noise. “ Don't I get a say in this?”

Apparently not.

Sinking down in her seat slightly Lani made herself a smaller target when Molly turned her attention to two of her sons as they apparated into the room with a pop. Maybe if she just stayed like this she wouldn't get noticed.

@remusedlupin // didn’t ask for this but i had feels

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remusedlupin:

It wasn’t the flicker of emotions warring across Lani’s face and then disappearing under the surface of her cool, placid mask that caught Remus’ attention so much as the bald, jarring way she had called him sir. Had she ever addressed him as such before? She was often as formal as any student, but the inflections behind the word, the monotone dullness of that single, bland syllable, seemed to speak volumes of the damage Remus had done when last they’d met.

When she stepped away and drew her cloak around herself, Remus felt a stab of familiar disquiet and he took a step back without pausing to consider the motion. His foot crashed down on a twig and it broke in half and the sound rung like a thunderclap in his ears. She wasn’t reacting to his lycanthropy. Moving backward had probably only made her feel worse, but the ingrained muscle memory of turning away from rejection was hard to override. Silently, Remus cursed his own insensitivity.

He wasn’t sure how to even begin repairing his clumsy mistakes, so he said the only placating thing he could think of: “I could help you look, if you like?”

         “No..” Lani winced at her own shrillness she hadn't meant for it to come out so sharply but there it had and she felt even worse. Lips parted and tongue darted out to lick them to try and stop them cracking. Glancing over her shoulder back towards the professor she flashed him a smile—it was neither genuine or heartfelt. It was hollow, paired with slightly glassy eyes that threatened to spill over again.

“No.. it's okay sir.” She repeated, softer this time and hands worried together, tugging at the hole in her jumper that she'd fixed a few days ago and unpicked from her nervousness just then.

“I'm sure you have better things to do than waste your time with me.” Whatever confidence she'd had around him had crumbled—she was foolish to have thought she'd even had a chance with a man like him. She was just a stupid girl what was she thinking. It was easy to fall back into talking down about herself, it didn't make her feel any better but it was the truth. She wasn't worth spending time with. Professor Lupin probably had so many other more important things to do why would he want to spend time around her?

She fell into silence again, neither moving away nor towards him merely hovering in the limbo of her own words the smallest part of her hoping he'd insist.

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remusedlupin:

It had rained recently, and ragged strips of cloud like tattered banners stretched across the sky, dull pink in the encroaching darkness. The weather hadn’t turned truly cold yet, but there was a sharp briskness to the air and the scent of pine needles and damp grass mixed with the first sting of frost. Remus tugged his his threadbare cloak; he supposed now that he was properly lodged and employed he could afford a new one, but the idea of replacing a garment that still functioned made him uneasy. How long would his tenure at Hogwarts last? How long until he was once again moving from town to town, struggling to pay for food?

He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, and barely noticed he was approaching another human until he heard her clear voice crash across the evening stillness.

Remus looked up at his student. “Lani?” he said. “Is everything all right?”

He was about to ask where she’d been the last few days, but stopped himself. He rather suspected he already knew the answer, and he doubted that was a topic either of them wanted to revisit.

          Several emotions flickered across cold kissed features all at once before Lani could get them under control—she was easy to read but it soon settled underneath the mask she was so good at putting up. Hand reached up, brushing a few stray strands out her face and tucked underneath her hat.

“Ah... uh.. everything is fine Professor Lupin.” She couldn't meet his eyes when she spoke to him, the threat of her previous embarrassment fresh in her memory. “ Jus' my owl flew off is all sir.” Toe scuffed the damp grass, frost clinging to the tip of her shoe. She was too polite, too clipped in her words she felt awkward, suffocated almost in her sudden spike of anxiety around the good professor.

“I should get back to looking for him...” The sentence tumbled out quickly and Lani was already moving away, shoulders hunched up as she pulled her cloak a little tighter to herself to create some sort of barrier between them.

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"With no fear, we remember who we are.”

'End of an Empire' ⚔ Sentence Starters ↪ @lonewolflupin

      “NoI'm sorry, that's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard of.”

Ascoff escaped her, hand coming up to brush through the tangled manethat was her hair. She'd heard some ridiculous stuff in her life—Imean she lived with her parents during the summer and they said themost ridiculous stuff. They still didn't believe she was a witch.

Weightshifted to the side, hand idly being shoved into the pocket of herrobe.

“Fearreminds us that we are mortal, that is who we are. Weak, human andmortal. That is what fear reminds us of.”