#and it’s their first adventure together

[madabapf]

Part 21 First Prev

First Prev

pocket monkey king single handedly carrying the doomed gays🙏 (bc lord knows they wouldn't talk without an outer force... at least not in the good way-)

welp- and with that their drunken adventure comes to an end these dorks still got a long way to go, but they've come far for one day~

i'm sorry it's not the "grand finale" some of you might have been hoping for with them getting back together- still, i hope their journey of slowly growing closer again was enjoyable :) maybe one day i'll feel confident enough in my writing that i'll continue their story who knows

this was my first time ever doing something like this (if it wasn't obvious lmao) it's far from perfect but it was a very fun experience nonetheless :D this wasn't even meant to be a whole ah comic, i don't know how this happened tbh-

i still got a little bonus part up my sleeve tho so keep a lookout for that! also if there is open questions about what happend during/after the comic or "what if" scenarios that would interest you, i'd love to answer a few of those in comic form after the bonus is out :)

thank you everyone for sticking around and being so kind and supportive <3

[mizgnomer]

Behind the Scenes of The Giggle - Part 17

Excerpt from Benjamin Cook's interview with Catherine Tate (and David Tennant because he's also in the room) in DWM #597:

“Of course, all this is happening because of Catherine,” David reminds us. “It was her idea.”

“It was my idea,” she says proudly. “Well, prompted by Russell. I didn’t just ring him up out of the blue and go, ‘Listen, come on.’” Well. No, but not far off. In December 2020, after a lockdown tweetalong of Catherine’s Doctor Who debut, 2006’s The Runaway Bride, organised by DWM’s Emily Cook – where the cast and crew watched and tweeted simultaneously with fans worldwide - Catherine messaged Russell to say how wonderful it was to see the episode again.

He messaged back: “God, let’s get David to do some more Doctor & Donna.”

“Let’s do it!!!” replied Catherine, then a few days later: “David said he’d do it in a heartbeat. Who do we need to speak to? Come on, let’s get the old band back together.”

And so they did. “But obviously it had to be with David,” says Catherine, when asked if either of them would have returned without the other. “I mean, it would have been weird if Russell had gone, ‘Let’s stick her with Chris Eccleston!’ Or if I’d said I’ll come back, but –”

“– only with Sylvester McCoy,” suggests David.

“I’d have LOVED that,” insists Catherine. (David nods as if to say, actually, no, fair enough. “Do you know, Sylvester hasn’t aged,” he adds. “If I were Russell, I’d bring him back tomorrow.” Now, there’s a thought.) “But there was never any suggestion that it wouldn’t be the two of us, which made it all the more appealing,” continues Catherine. “For years it was like ‘if wishing made it so’ that we could come back and do this again. Then against all odds, we have. You wouldn’t have bet on it, would you? Although, I do think I always held on to the idea. I used to say sporadically, ‘Oh, let’s just do a lost adventure. The Doctor and Donna: The Lost Adventures.’”

“Before it’s implausible,” says David. “Before we get too old.”

“Before no-one believes that we were ever in it in the first place,” says Catherine, laughing.

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For other posts in this set, please see the #whoBtsGiggle tag. The full episode list is [ here ]

[colouredbyd]

The Secret Life Of Pets (Hogwarts edition)

poly!marauders x fem!reader

summary: After a transformation gone wrong, Flicker is trapped in red panda form for a week. The Marauders pass her off as their pet, but curious hands and lingering eyes make staying hidden far more complicated.

warnings: fluff, animagus secrecy, fluffy moments, stuck in animagi, mention of animal torture a few times? also mentions of being displayed and coming from a zoo? technically part of a blurb series but can be read alone

w/c: 7k (im not sorry)

a/n: i absolutely adore this oh my god </3

part of my mini blurb series Flicker's Secret Adventures

masterlist

You never thought you would end up like this, tangled in the strange magic of your own making, a flicker of crimson fur and wide eyes peering up at the towering figures of your three Marauder boyfriends. 

One moment, you were caught in the chaotic swell of transformation—magic thrumming hot and wild through your veins—and the next, you were stuck, bound in the soft body of your Animagus form, the world towering and unfamiliar. 

It was James who first noticed, sharp-eyed and impossibly intuitive despite the chaos that always seemed to linger around him like a second skin. He had been the one to throw a piece of parchment at you as you scuttled across the common room floor, your tiny paws stumbling over the worn wood, claws clicking helplessly against it. 

He watched with brows knit together as you stumbled, tripping gracelessly before collapsing into a heap of plush fur, your tail flicking in embarrassment. He knelt down beside you, the smile he wore warm and familiar, but his eyes gave him away—there was panic there, a thread of worry woven deep.

"Alright, love," he started gently, voice coaxing, his thumb brushing soothingly over your head like it was second nature. 

"Enough playing around. Time to come back, yeah? We promised a proper cuddle pile tonight, remember?" He made a little gesture with his hands, as if that would draw you out of your Animagus form like a conjuring spell.

You blinked up at him, round eyes wide and glimmering with something you couldn’t quite voice. You willed the magic to reverse, to flood back through your veins and pull you upright, human and steady. 

But nothing happened. Your heart thudded heavy in your tiny chest, and you shuffled back slightly, paws scrabbling against the floor as a flicker of panic seized you.

James frowned, glancing over his shoulder. "Oi, Moony, is she...is she stuck?"

Remus was already rifling through the scattered parchment on the table, lips pressed thin as he skimmed the text. "It shouldn’t be possible," he murmured, flipping through the spellwork with a focused intensity. 

His eyes softened when he looked up, offering you the kind of smile that always made you feel like everything would be alright. "You’ve done it a hundred times before, darling."

"Well," Sirius drawled from the edge of the sofa, one brow arched as he twirled his wand between long fingers, "seems like she’s a bit more attached to the fur than she thought. Maybe she just wants to be spoiled."

"Wouldn’t blame her," James chuckled, his hand still cradling you gently, fingers brushing through the soft fur on your back. "She knows we’re all absolute suckers for her."

You huffed indignantly, your tiny form shivering with the effort of it, and Sirius just laughed harder, throwing his head back as the sound filled the room. 

"Look! She’s got attitude even now," he cackled, and you darted towards him, tiny paws skittering across the floor as you leapt onto his boot with a defiant squeak. He leaned down, scooping you up with surprising gentleness, his hands firm but soft against your fur. "Alright, alright, I get it," he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head before passing you back to James. "Can’t help herself."

James chuckled, though the edge of concern hadn’t quite left his eyes. He reached down, scooping you up gently until you were cradled in his hands, your tiny claws pricking slightly against his palms. "Come on, Flicker. Try again. Give it a go, just for us." His voice softened, thumb brushing over your ears. "I know you can do it, love."

You closed your eyes, focusing as hard as you could, willing the magic to turn like a tide—but again, you remained right there, soft and curled up in James’s hands, your ears flicking in frustration.

Remus looked up from the parchment, his eyes sharp with realization. "Wait," he began slowly, his voice dropping to a hush, "I think...I think I found something."

Sirius perked up instantly, leaning forward, boots hitting the floor with a solid thud. "Go on, then. Spill it, Moony."

Remus’s fingers traced over the ink, his brow furrowing. "There’s a note here...something about prolonged Animagus form in times of heightened emotion. If the caster experiences..." he squinted, bringing the paper closer. "—if they experience emotional distress during transformation, it can...lock them in place."

James’s eyes shot back to you, still curled in his hands. "Well, that would’ve been nice to know..." he muttered, brushing a thumb over your head. "Alright, Flicker. What’s got you all tied up, then?"

Sirius leaned back, arms stretched behind his head, his grin lazy and amused. "Maybe she’s just desperate for all the attention." They all laughed thinking what Remus said was just some joke.

But then the whole day had slipped by, melting into hours of failed attempts and frustrated huffs, the clock ticking away with no change, and you were still stuck, a permanent fixture of fur and twitching ears in their lives. 

Remus had read over the spellwork a hundred times, murmuring incantations under his breath while you tried—again and again—to shift back. When it became clear that you weren’t going to change anytime soon, they devised a plan.

"We’ll just tell everyone you went home," James said confidently, lounging back on the common room couch. "Emergency family business. Your brother’s sick or something."

"And the red panda?" Remus asked, arching a brow.

Sirius smirked. "She’s our pet now. I’ll get her a collar and everything."

You growled, ears flattening, but Sirius only chuckled, leaning down to scratch your head. "Oh, come on, love. You’ll be the most spoiled pet in all of Hogwarts."

"Absolutely," Remus replied dryly, sitting back and watching you with his usual quiet amusement. He glanced at the other Marauders. "We can’t exactly have her wandering around the castle like this, can we? People are going to notice."

And so, it was on that crisp morning, with the first rays of sunlight streaming weakly through the ancient windows of Hogwarts, that you found yourself tucked away inside the magical bag James had conjured for you. 

It was a rather unconventional hiding spot, to say the least, yet it was the kind of place no one would think to look. After all, who would expect a mischievous red panda to be snugly nestled inside the confines of a student's seemingly ordinary backpack? 

Yet, despite the secrecy of your hiding place, you were far from being quiet or still. Every so often, you would stir within the bag, your little paws batting at the fabric in an attempt to make your presence known. It was as though you couldn't resist the pull of the chaos unfolding outside, the energy of the bustling hallways of Hogwarts spilling into your cramped sanctuary.

You poked your head out from beneath the folds, watching, curious, as the swirl of students passed by, their hurried footsteps and muffled voices blending into a symphony of uncertainty. 

The air around the entrance to the Great Hall felt thick with tension, the kind that only comes with the unexpected—something was happening, though you couldn’t quite make sense of it. From your hidden position, the sights and sounds made it impossible for you to remain still for too long.

"Shh, Flicker," came James's voice, low and urgent, as he gently pressed you further into the bag, his hands cool against your fur. "No one can see you. You need to stay hidden."

You weren’t sure if James had truly grasped the depths of your mischief, or if it was the sheer amount of chaos that had taken root in the hallways that made him think a red panda could remain unnoticed for long. Either way, you weren’t inclined to cooperate because why would you when you were a panda? 

You wriggled, your small body twisting inside the bag as you tried to free yourself from its confines. A determined paw snaked out from the edges, batting at his fingers, your silent protest unmistakable.

"Hey, Jamie," came Sirius's familiar drawl from somewhere above you, lazy and dripping with amusement. "You torturing the poor thing in there? Flicker deserves better than your clumsy handling, don't you, darling?"

"Clumsy?!" James shot back, sounding almost wounded as he gave the bag an indignant shake—enough to make you squeak in protest. 

"I’m keeping her from getting caught, which is more than I can say for your brilliant ideas. Remember last week? With the broom closet and the Filibuster Fireworks? Nearly had her tail singed off."

You shoved your little paws through the gap, reaching for the space outside, your claws scraping lightly against the soft edges of the bag as you sought freedom. 

Sirius chuckled, the sound low and warm, and you could hear the shift of his footsteps as he came closer. "C'mon then, give her here. You’re going to smother her with all your hovering."

There was a brief shuffle before you felt the bag open slightly, the light pouring in bright and blinding for a moment before you blinked up and saw Sirius grinning down at you.

"Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes," he murmured, his hands reaching in and scooping you up with surprising gentleness. The moment you were free, you leaped instinctively, scrambling up his arm and curling up in his embrace, your fur brushing against the soft wool of his sweater as you buried your head against his chest.

"You spoil her," James muttered, crossing his arms with a huff as Sirius cradled you like something precious. "One of these days, she’s going to run straight past me and head right for you."

"Already does," Sirius replied with a smirk, settling down onto the nearest bench and letting you curl up in his lap. His fingers scratched idly behind your ears, and you couldn’t help the little chirrup of delight that escaped you. "She knows quality when she sees it. Right, Flicker?"

"I think you mean reckless idiocy," came Remus’s soft voice from behind you, his presence as familiar as sunlight. He slipped onto the bench beside Sirius, his gaze flickering to you with a fondness that made your heart squeeze. "Honestly, I’m surprised she even tolerates the two of you."

"That’s because you bribe her with chocolate," James quipped, dropping into the seat across from them and kicking his feet up onto the table with a satisfied sigh. "I saw you slipping her some last week. Traitorous, really."

"Not traitorous if she’s mine," Remus replied smoothly, reaching over to give you a gentle scratch under the chin. "You always come back to me, don’t you, sweetheart?"

You chirped in response, stretching out your paws to brush against his hand, and he chuckled softly. Sirius snorted, leaning back and watching with a grin. "Alright, alright, no need to start a custody battle over Flicker. We all know she prefers me."

"Oh, do we?" James raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with a grin. "I think it’s about time we test that theory."

Sirius's grin widened, a spark of mischief lighting his eyes. "What do you say, Flicker? Should we make this interesting?" His fingers danced along your back, and you leaned into the touch instinctively. "Winner gets you for the whole weekend. No interruptions. No distractions. Just us."

Remus chuckled, shaking his head. "Merlin help us," he muttered, but there was a smile tugging at his lips, a rare softness that lingered in his eyes as he watched you snuggle deeper into Sirius's lap. "Just don’t blame me when she leaves you both behind and comes straight back to me."

"Dream on, Moony," Sirius drawled, his fingers brushing through your fur in soft, gentle strokes. "She’s ours, and she knows it."

And with that, you settled comfortably into Sirius's arms, soothed by the gentle rhythm of his breathing, the sound of their banter a lullaby in the chaotic world of Hogwarts. For a moment, the rest of the castle faded away, and it was just the four of you—tangled in playful arguments and whispered promises, hidden away from the madness of it all.

It was only a few moments later when the familiar swish of footsteps signaled Lily’s approach, her confident stride cutting through the lingering haze of morning chatter. 

She walked past with the kind of purposeful elegance only she seemed to possess, her crimson hair catching the light like flames against the stone walls of the Great Hall. But then she stopped, her gaze snagging on the peculiar sight before her—Sirius lounging on the bench with you curled up cozily in his lap, Remus settled comfortably beside him, and James looking far too pleased with himself across the table.

Lily raised an eyebrow, her emerald eyes sharp with curiosity as they flickered to you, nestled snugly in Sirius's arms. "What," she began slowly, her tone hovering somewhere between disbelief and faint amusement, "is that?"

Sirius barely flinched, his grin widening as he lifted you up slightly, your tiny, fuzzy form wriggling a bit in his hands as you blinked up at her. 

"Oh, this?" he replied smoothly, as if he had been waiting for the question all morning. "Just our new class mascot. Her name’s Flicker." He cradled you a bit closer, his fingers brushing gently over your fur as if to demonstrate just how harmless and adorable you were.

Lily's eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring in their depths as she crossed her arms over her chest. "A red panda?" she repeated, voice laden with disbelief. "Since when does Hogwarts allow exotic animals as mascots?"

"Since we decided it," James cut in cheerfully, leaning forward with a grin that was just shy of conspiratorial. His elbow hit the table with a soft thud as he propped his chin on his hand, completely unbothered by Lily's incredulity. "You know how it is, Evans. We like to keep things interesting around here."

"Interesting?" she echoed, glancing between the three of them as if waiting for one to crack. "Is that what you’re calling it now? And what exactly are you planning to do if McGonagall finds out?"

Sirius waved a hand dismissively, the motion causing you to bounce slightly in his lap, though he steadied you almost immediately with a gentle pat. "Oh, come on, Lil. When has McGonagall ever caught us doing anything before?" His grin was wolfish, all sharp teeth and reckless confidence. "Flicker here is very well-behaved, don’t worry. You won’t even know she’s around."

Lily's gaze lingered on you, her eyes tracing the soft tuft of fur on your head, the flick of your tail, the way your paws settled so comfortably against Sirius's arm. "Very well-behaved?" she questioned, her voice softening just slightly, almost as if she were addressing you rather than them. "You lot can barely keep yourselves out of trouble. What makes you think you can manage...this?"

"Because she loves us," James interjected confidently, leaning back in his chair with a smug expression plastered across his face. "We’ve got it all figured out. Flicker’s part of the family now, aren’t you, darling?"

You chirped softly, nuzzling further into Sirius's lap as if in agreement, and he chuckled, his hand resting warmly on your back. "See? Practically domesticated," he added with a grin, scratching just behind your ears. "And if you must know, I’m a very responsible pet owner."

Remus snorted softly, turning the page of the book in his lap with a flick of his wrist. "Responsible isn’t exactly the word I’d use," he murmured under his breath, though his eyes were alight with amusement.

Sirius feigned offense, his hand clutching dramatically at his chest. "Moony, you wound me. I’m an excellent caretaker." He glanced down at you, eyebrows raised as if prompting you to confirm his statement.

You looked up at him, blinking innocently before pressing your head against his hand, and he beamed with triumph. "See? She agrees."

Lily sighed, though you could see the smile threatening to break free at the edges of her mouth. "You three are absolutely ridiculous," she said finally, shaking her head as though she could hardly believe the scene before her. "I hope you know that."

"And yet," Remus said mildly, his eyes not leaving his book, "you still show up every morning to watch the show."

Her cheeks flushed just slightly, and she glanced away. "Only because someone has to make sure you don’t blow up the Great Hall."

Sirius smirked, leaning back against the bench and stretching his legs out comfortably. "Admit it, Evans. You’d miss us if we weren’t around to cause a bit of chaos."

Lily rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. "Right. Just try not to get her caught," she said finally, casting one last look at you, her expression softening just slightly. "She’s...cute."

"She’s perfect," Sirius replied, and his voice held just the faintest hint of affection as he gave you a gentle scratch behind the ears. "Don’t worry. We’ll keep her safe."

You chirped again, nestling deeper into his lap, and the three of them fell into easy banter, voices overlapping in the kind of harmony only they seemed to possess.

Breakfast was winding down, students rising from their seats in clusters, the dull roar of chatter punctuated by bursts of laughter. You were still nestled comfortably in Sirius’s lap, his hands absently scratching behind your ears as if you were a particularly affectionate house cat. 

Remus was pouring over the Daily Prophet, brow furrowed in concentration, while James had taken to balancing toast crusts on his wand tip, much to the annoyance of a few first-years watching with wide eyes.

It was almost peaceful—until the heavy oak doors swung open with a theatrical flair, and Professor Slughorn strode in like he owned the place.

"My, my, my!" his voice boomed, catching not just your attention but the entirety of the Great Hall’s. Heads turned, whispers sparked like kindling, and you instinctively curled tighter against Sirius, your tiny paws gripping his robes with desperate urgency. He just chuckled, patting your side. "Easy there, Flicker. It’s just Sluggy. Probably heard about our little secret."

James muttered under his breath, "If he did, we’re finished. Think he knows about the fireworks last week?"

Remus didn’t look up from his paper. "If he did, we’d be scrubbing cauldrons for Filch by now."

Slughorn approached with that characteristic bounce in his step, velvet robes swishing dramatically behind him. His eyes locked onto you with the kind of delight usually reserved for crystallized pineapple or rare potions ingredients. 

"A red panda?" he exclaimed, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. "Marvelous! Simply marvelous!" He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "Tell me, boys—where did you get such an exotic creature?"

You could feel the collective freeze of the Marauders, like time itself had stopped to watch them scramble for an answer. Your heart thudded painfully in your tiny chest, eyes darting wildly between their faces, as if silently begging them to think of something—anything—to explain your presence.

But Sirius, ever the performer, broke into a grin so wide it was almost dazzling. "Ah, Professor," he began smoothly, lifting you up a little, your paws dangling over his arm. "This is Flicker. Our new mascot."

You squeaked. Actually squeaked. Sirius’s hands were firm beneath your belly, holding you up as if you were some sort of prize he’d won at the fair, and you could feel the rush of blood pounding in your ears. Mascot? You twisted slightly, little paws swatting at Sirius’s fingers in protest, but he held fast, his grin never faltering.

James nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. "Our what?" he hissed out of the corner of his mouth, but Sirius ignored him, flashing Slughorn that perfect Black family smile, all charm and effortless grace.

Slughorn’s eyes widened with delight, his hands clapping together again. "Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!" he exclaimed, leaning in so close you could smell the sharp tang of peppermint on his breath.

 "I’ve always said that Hogwarts could use more practical demonstrations. And what better way to teach students about magical creatures than by introducing a live one to them? A red panda! I’ve never seen one in person—oh, Kettleburn will be thrilled! I’ll send word immediately!"

Your tiny heart skipped several beats, panic creeping in like ice water down your spine. Kettleburn? you thought frantically, memories of his wild-eyed enthusiasm for anything remotely dangerous flickering in your mind. 

You squirmed harder, your claws catching on the soft wool of Sirius’s robe, but he just chuckled under his breath, patting your head. "Settle down, Flicker," he whispered, too low for Slughorn to hear. "We’ll sort this out."

But his eyes told a different story. There was a glimmer of worry there, barely masked by the confidence in his grin.

"Professor," Remus interjected gently, folding his newspaper and setting it aside. "She’s... well, she’s not exactly trained for... public appearances." He shot you a pointed look as if trying to convey something reassuring, but all you could think of was the horror of being paraded in front of a crowd of wide-eyed students, poking and prodding at you with eager hands.

You whimpered. The sound was soft, barely audible, but Sirius’s grip tightened just slightly in response. His hand rubbed soothing circles into your fur, but it did nothing to still the trembling in your tiny frame.

"Nonsense!" Slughorn exclaimed, waving a hand dismissively. "What better way to teach the students about magical creatures than by introducing a live one to them? A bit of hands-on experience! Why, I bet Hagrid would love to assist!" His eyes sparkled even more.

"I’ll have word sent to Kettleburn today! We’ll feature her by next week’s lesson—oh, just imagine the students’ faces!"

Your ears flattened, and you shoved your little head into Sirius’s chest, burrowing as deep as you could. His hand cupped around you protectively, but the panic was setting in fast, thoughts racing through your mind faster than you could grasp them. 

What if they find out? What if I can’t change back? What if I get stuck in some sort of magical creature sanctuary, away from all of them—away from—

Sirius’s voice rumbled through his chest, grounding you just a little. "Professor," he started, his voice uncharacteristically firm, "I’m afraid Flicker’s a bit... delicate. Not really suited for large crowds."

Slughorn chuckled heartily. "That’s what lessons are for, Mr. Black! Handling delicate creatures with care and understanding. I’ll speak with Kettleburn—oh, it’s going to be marvelous!" He clapped Sirius on the shoulder before turning on his heel, humming some sort of jovial tune as he strode out of the Great Hall, velvet robes swishing grandly behind him.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Finally, James broke it. "We’re doomed," he said flatly, leaning back in his chair with a look of pure resignation.

Remus ran a hand down his face. "Paraded in front of the entire school. Kettleburn. Hagrid. Merlin knows who else. This is a disaster."

You whimpered again, burrowing deeper into Sirius’s lap, and his hands came up to cradle you instinctively. "Shh, shh," he whispered, voice softer now, soothing. "We’ll fix it. Won’t we, Prongs?"

James straightened, though his expression was still somewhere between disbelief and reluctant determination. "We have to. If Slughorn sends word to Kettleburn... we’re out of options."

You peeked out from the crook of his arm, eyes wide and unblinking, searching their faces for something—anything—that resembled a plan. But there was only grim silence and the occasional fidget of hands nervously tapping against the table.

Remus met your gaze, his eyes softening. "We won’t let anything happen to you, Flicker. I promise."

You wanted to believe him. You really did. But the echo of Slughorn’s cheerful humming still lingered in the air, and all you could think about was Kettleburn’s wild grin as he prepared the next "practical lesson."

As the day stretched on, time seemed to move both too quickly and impossibly slow, each tick of the clock echoing louder in your ears. It wasn’t long before you were being passed around like some kind of peculiar trinket, hidden beneath folds of cloaks and tucked carefully into backpacks. 

When Sirius had you, you were draped across his lap, his long fingers running absently through your fur as if you were merely a luxurious accessory, a living piece of velvet that purred and nestled against his hands. He would lean back in his chair during Transfiguration, feet kicked up on the desk, and idly scratch behind your ears as McGonagall’s voice droned on about advanced transformation techniques.

"Comfortable, Flicker?" he’d whisper, voice low enough that only you could hear. His grin would spread slow and lazy, eyes glimmering with mischief. "Not a bad life, is it? Carried around by the handsomest bloke in school, pampered and adored... could be worse."

You would huff in response, pawing at his chest in protest, though you had to admit there was some comfort in the warmth of his lap and the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your paws. 

Sirius would chuckle at your weak protests, smoothing his hand down your back as if to coax the tension from your little frame. "There, there," he’d murmur. "You’re safe with me."

But when classes changed and the halls began to flood with students, you were hastily scooped up and deposited into James's arms. He’d cradle you close, barely breaking stride as he navigated the bustling corridors with effortless confidence. 

His arms were strong and sure, and you had to admit there was something oddly reassuring about the way he held you—like you were something precious, something that needed protecting.

"All right there, Flicker?" he’d ask with a grin, glancing down at you nestled against his chest. You’d blink up at him, wide-eyed and a little dazed from the constant shuffling, and he’d laugh, that bright, boyish sound that echoed down the stone hallways. "Didn’t think you’d be having such an eventful week, did you?"

You wanted to snort, to roll your eyes, but the movement would draw attention, so instead, you nestled deeper into his arms, hiding your face beneath your tiny paws. He just chuckled, reaching up to brush a thumb along your head. "I know, I know," he murmured. "Just a little longer. Promise."

And so it went. Hour by hour, class by class, you were shuffled between them like some bizarre game of pass-the-parcel. In Charms, Remus would tuck you neatly into his satchel, a flap left carefully open so you could poke your head out and watch Flitwick wave his wand with enthusiastic little bursts of sparks. 

You would feel the rumble of Remus’s voice as he answered questions with that effortless intelligence of his, and every so often, his hand would dip into the bag to scratch behind your ears absentmindedly.

"Don’t worry," he’d whisper to you when Flitwick’s back was turned. "We won’t let anyone see. You’re safe." His eyes would soften, the kind of warmth there that made your tiny heart stutter.

But the worst was yet to come.

The days passed in a blur of stolen glances and whispered reassurances, the Marauders seamlessly passing you between them with the kind of practiced ease that made it almost feel natural. 

You were hidden in the folds of Sirius’s cloak during Transfiguration, nestled in Remus's satchel during Charms, and cradled against James’s chest as he barreled through the hallways with his usual reckless enthusiasm. It was strange, existing as something fragile and small, something to be protected—but it was safe, and for now, that was enough.

By the third day, you had almost begun to relax, lulled into a fragile sense of security by their careful handling and the way they always seemed to know just where to tuck you away from prying eyes. They joked and laughed like it was all a grand adventure, and for fleeting moments, you almost believed it too.

But the fourth day—the fourth day came with a sense of foreboding that settled in your bones the moment the morning sun filtered through the high windows of the common room. You woke curled up in Sirius’s lap, his hands gently combing through your fur as he murmured nonsense to you, the flicker of the fire casting warm shadows across his face.

“Big day today, Flicker,” he whispered, his voice too soft, too careful. He was trying to hide it, the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers faltered just slightly as they traced gentle circles behind your ears. You poked your head up, blinking sleepily at him, and he gave you a grin that was just a little too wide. “Slughorn’s got a bit of a surprise for us.”

James snorted from across the room, lacing up his shoes with quick, efficient movements. “More like a surprise for you, Pads. You’re the one who decided to parade her around like a trophy.”

Sirius shot him a look, one hand curling protectively around your back. “Oh, come off it. It’s not like I planned for him to catch sight of her.” He glanced back down at you, his grin softening. “Besides, Flicker here’s tougher than she looks. Right, love?”

You squeaked in response, pressing your paws against his chest as if to say I am most definitely not tougher than I look. Remus chuckled from where he leaned against the wall, arms crossed and expression wry. “Pretty sure she just called you a liar, Pads.”

“Oh, she’s always dramatic.” Sirius leaned back, letting you nestle into the crook of his arm. “She’ll be fine. We’ll be right there with her.”

But his words did little to ease the gnawing pit of anxiety growing in your stomach. You tried to curl up tighter, burying your head beneath your paws, but Sirius only scooped you up and set you gently into James’s waiting hands. “C’mon, Flicker. Time to be brave.”

You weren’t sure if bravery was something you could muster, but you had no choice. They bundled you up carefully, wrapped in Sirius’s scarf and tucked against James’s chest as they made their way through the winding corridors of the castle. 

Students bustled past, chattering and laughing, completely oblivious to the small red panda being smuggled through the halls. For a moment, you almost wished you were one of them—unbothered, unaware, living in blissful ignorance of the chaos waiting just beyond the classroom door.

But when the heavy wooden doors to the Care of Magical Creatures classroom creaked open, all that false security crumbled into dust.

By the time Thursday morning rolled around, the anxiety had settled deep in your bones. You'd been shuffled from one Marauder to the next all week, crammed into bags, hidden under cloaks, and even smuggled into the dorms when Filch wasn't looking. But none of that compared to what awaited you in Care of Magical Creatures.

Slughorn was practically vibrating with excitement as students gathered around. He stood at the front of the room, his arms spread wide as if he were introducing a royal guest.

"Alright, class!" he bellowed, clapping his hands together with a flourish. "Today is a rather special occasion! We have a guest!"

You felt Sirius’s hand tighten around you as you sat curled up in his arms. “Alright, Star of the Show,” he murmured with a grin. “Ready to steal the spotlight?”

James leaned over, barely hiding his excitement. “She’s gonna make history. Hogwarts’ first red panda mascot.”

Remus sighed, rubbing his temples. “Or Hogwarts’ first red panda incident. Either way, it’s going to be memorable.”

Slughorn gestured grandly to where you were very much not trying to escape Sirius's grip. "Everyone, gather 'round! Today, we are honored—absolutely honored—to be introduced to Flicker, the Marauders' very own red panda!"

A ripple of whispers spread through the class, heads craning and eyes widening as Sirius, looking like he’d just won the lottery, sauntered forward and placed you on the front desk. You immediately flattened yourself against the surface, eyes darting nervously as dozens of faces leaned in.

“Blimey,” Marlene whispered, nudging Mary. “Did they actually steal it from a zoo?”

Sirius smirked. “Rescued. We like to think of it as a noble cause.”

James nodded solemnly. “She was in dire need of Marauder protection. A proper adoption, really.”

Lily raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “And what exactly does a red panda need protecting from?”

“Everything,” Remus replied dryly. “Including this class, apparently.”

Slughorn looked positively enchanted, his eyes practically twinkling as he leaned down to inspect you. “Marvelous! Simply marvelous! Such an exotic creature! And so tame! Have you named her?”

“Flicker,” Sirius announced proudly.

“Flicker,” Slughorn repeated, beaming. “How charming! I must say, I’ve never seen one so calm in captivity before.”

James bit back a laugh. “Calm. Right. Definitely calm.”

Slughorn, oblivious to the chaos that usually followed you, straightened up and addressed the class. “Now, students, let’s observe her behavior. Does anyone know what red pandas usually eat?”

Sirius shot a sly look at James. “Mostly biscuits and James’s Transfiguration notes.”

James looked affronted. “Oi! That was one time!”

Remus cleared his throat. “Twice. She ate your notes on Animagus transformations too.”

Slughorn clapped his hands again. “Well, we certainly don’t want to make her uncomfortable. Let’s see how she behaves if we give her some space. Mr. Black, would you mind setting her on the floor?”

You tensed immediately, looking up at Sirius in pure betrayal. Set you down? In a classroom full of curious students?

Sirius patted your head gently. “It’s alright, love. Go on, show them how well-behaved you are.”

He placed you carefully on the floor, and immediately, you froze, unsure whether to bolt or hide. The entire class was watching you expectantly, and you could feel your little heart pounding.

“Well...go on, then!” Slughorn encouraged. “Let’s see her move around!”

Marlene whispered, “Is she supposed to do something?”

Sirius leaned back, all confidence. “She’s planning. A strategic genius, our Flicker. You’ll see.”

James nodded sagely. “Yeah, you have to give her a minute to assess her surroundings. Very methodical.”

Remus hid a smile. “Or she’s just terrified of Slughorn’s cologne.”

Finally, you took a cautious step forward, sniffing the air. A girl giggled. “She’s so tiny! I didn’t know red pandas were this small.”

Sirius shot her a wink. “She’s compact. Portable chaos.”

Just then, Slughorn leaned down a bit too close for comfort, and you did the only reasonable thing for a red panda—darted between his legs and made a break for the nearest table.

“Oh!” Slughorn exclaimed, nearly toppling over. “Quick! Someone—”

James casually leaned against the desk. “Nah, she’s fine. Probably just checking for treats.”

Lily couldn’t help but snort. “This is a disaster waiting to happen.”

You finally settled under one of the desks, peeking out from behind a leg as if daring anyone to come closer. Sirius just grinned proudly. “Look at her. Master of stealth.”

Slughorn, now slightly disheveled, composed himself. “Well! It appears she’s rather spirited indeed! Perhaps we can use this opportunity to discuss animal behavior and instincts.”

James raised his hand, overly enthusiastic. “Oh, I know! She’s exhibiting classic...uh...panda instincts. You know, finding small, enclosed spaces to...strategize.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “James, that’s not a thing.”

Sirius was already heading over to coax you out, crouching down with a biscuit in his hand. “Alright, Flicker. C’mon. Don’t leave me hanging here. Be a good girl.”

With a huff, you slowly edged forward, cautiously nibbling on the offered treat while keeping a wary eye on Slughorn.

Slughorn seemed satisfied, nodding wisely. “A fascinating creature, indeed. I shall have to look into care instructions for next week. Perhaps even arrange a guest lecture with Professor Kettleburn!”

You froze mid-chew, and Sirius shot James a look of pure panic. “Next week?”

James mouthed back, You deal with it.

Remus just sighed, already making mental notes on how to stage a panda disappearance before the next class.

By the time Friday evening rolled around, the entire castle seemed to sigh with relief. You had survived a week of smuggling, hiding, and narrowly avoiding catastrophe as a very chaotic red panda, and now the Marauders had one final mission: turning you back.

The Room of Requirement was dimly lit with soft, golden light, the enchanted ceiling glittering with stars that twinkled like distant, gentle promises. 

You sat in the center of the room, curled up comfortably on a cushion Sirius had insisted you have. Around you, the boys were gathered—James with his wand out, Sirius cross-legged and practically vibrating with anticipation, and Remus standing just in front of you, wand poised but gaze soft and steady.

“Well,” Sirius began, drumming his fingers against his knees, “It’s been a good run, Flicker. I daresay you’re the best-looking red panda Hogwarts has ever seen.”

James snorted, flicking a stray leaf out of your fur. “I mean, she’s also the only red panda Hogwarts has ever seen.” He paused, grinning. “But still. You wore it well.”

Remus crouched down to meet your eyes, his expression gentle. “You ready?” he asked softly, his hand coming to rest on the top of your head. His touch was soothing, his palm warm against your fur.

You stared up at him, your little heart beating just a bit faster, and then you nodded—or, well, you thought you nodded. Sirius gasped. “Did you see that? She nodded! Merlin, she’s even cute when she’s agreeing to get zapped.”

James elbowed him. “It’s not zapping, Padfoot. It’s reversing. There’s a difference.”

“Both involve magic and potential explosions,” Sirius replied cheerfully.

“Enough,” Remus said, shaking his head with a fond smile. He straightened, rolling his shoulders back. “Alright. Here goes nothing.”

You held your breath as he raised his wand, his voice steady and clear. “Reverto Corpus.”

A warm, glowing light shot from the tip of his wand, enveloping you in a shimmering haze. It wasn’t like the last time—this time, it was gentle, like sunlight filtering through autumn leaves. You could feel the shift, your bones stretching, your fur retreating, and for a moment, everything was weightless and light.

When the magic faded, you were there, back to your human form, sitting in the center of the cushion with your hair tousled and your eyes wide with surprise. 

You blinked once, twice—then looked down at your hands, flexing your fingers as if you couldn’t quite believe they were back.

For a heartbeat, the room was silent, the boys staring at you as if you were some sort of mirage. And then, all at once—

“Y/N!” they shouted in unison, voices overlapping with pure, unrestrained joy.

Before you could even catch your breath, you were pulled to your feet and swallowed in a blur of arms and warmth. James reached you first, nearly lifting you off your feet as he wrapped you in a bear hug, squeezing so tightly you almost forgot how to breathe. “You’re back!” he exclaimed, voice muffled against your hair. “Properly back! Merlin, I missed your stupid face.”

“You missed my face?” you wheezed, squished against his chest. “I missed my hands! You have no idea how annoying it is to eat with paws!”

James laughed, pulling back just enough to beam down at you, his glasses slightly askew and eyes bright with happiness. “You did look pretty adorable, though. All fuzzy and helpless.”

“Helpless?” you echoed, incredulous. “I bit Sirius twice!”

“And I still have the scar,” Sirius announced proudly, shoving James aside with a dramatic flourish. His hands cupped your face, eyes raking over you like he was memorizing every feature. “There she is,” he whispered, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “There’s my favorite troublemaker.”

You grinned up at him, reaching up to tug at his hair. “Missed me, huh? You only wanted me back so I wouldn’t chew up your shoes again.”

“Hey!” Sirius scoffed, lips curving into a grin. “That was one time, and they were brand new!”

You laughed, bright and unrestrained, and Sirius leaned down without warning to press a loud, smacking kiss to your forehead. “There,” he said, his grin widening. “Just in case you missed those too.”

“Absolutely didn’t,” you replied, wiping your forehead dramatically. “Ugh, now I’m probably cursed.”

“Oi!” he laughed, shoving you gently. “I’ll have you know I’m very hygienic.”

“Right,” you teased. “That’s why Remus has to confiscate your cologne every week.”

Sirius gasped, clutching his chest. “Et tu, Flicker?”

Remus was next, his approach softer, his eyes searching yours with a kind of disbelief. He stepped forward slowly, like you might disappear if he moved too fast. 

His hands came up to cradle your face gently, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. “You’re alright?” he murmured, voice just above a whisper. “No lingering side effects? No sudden urges to climb trees?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “I make no promises about the trees.”

His smile grew wider, and before you could say another word, his arms were around you, pulling you close. His chin rested on your shoulder, and his voice was softer, just for you. “Missed you so so much, dovey” he murmured, his voice rough with sincerity.

You held him just as tightly, squeezing your eyes shut as you breathed him in. “I missed you too, Remmy” you whispered. “Even if you did laugh when I fell off the bookshelf.”

“That was objectively funny,” he murmured against your hair, and you could feel him smiling.

You swatted his shoulder playfully as you pulled back. “Next time I’m a red panda, I’m clawing your jumper.”

James clapped his hands together, practically bouncing on his feet. “Alright, I say we celebrate! Three butterbeers, on me!”

“You mean on my tab,” Sirius corrected, raising an eyebrow.

James waved him off. “Details.”

You laughed, the sound filling the room and spilling into the walls like sunlight. You hadn’t realized how much you missed your own voice until it was back. Until they were all here, crowding around you with so much love and warmth you almost couldn’t breathe.

Sirius draped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side like you belonged there. “Well, now that you’re back, I guess we have to start sneaking you properly into the common room again.”

“Please don’t suggest a disguise,” Remus groaned. “I’m not turning her back into a panda just so you can live out your fantasy of owning an exotic pet.”

Sirius grinned, entirely unbothered. “Admit it, you miss her climbing into your lap.”

Remus’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he didn’t deny it.

James raised his hands dramatically. “A toast! To Flicker—who lives on forever in our hearts, even though she was rubbish at staying hidden.”

“Hey!” you cried, laughing. “I was stealthy! You lot just dragged me everywhere!”

“Semantics,” Sirius said with a wink.

And as they led you out of the Room of Requirement, arms draped around your shoulders and laughter filling the halls, you couldn’t help but think—there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

[hyunjincanraptoo]

No. 8 with Chan plz I beg of yooou!! 🙏🏻

Hi, baby! I'm sorry it took so long... I got carried away. This was also requested by my beautiful @ktxoxoxo . And the twins are 5yo (read foive haha)

8. "But I was wondering if maybe we can… go to… a date"

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: smut

Pairing: single dad!Chan x kindergarten teacher! reader

Alexa, play Eternity by Bang Chan 

Christopher Bang wasn’t late. Not technically. He just wasn’t…early. Which, in kindergarten time, might as well not have been a big deal.

“Come on, Seojin, your shoe is on the wrong foot again,” he said, crouching down to help the little boy stumbling beside him.

His twin sister, Jiwon, clung to his leg, holding a crumpled paper flower they’d made together the night before. “We’re gonna miss the morning song, daddy!”

Both kids were dressed in matching outfits— gray shirts with little cartoon animal prints, denim overalls with faded patches on the knees, that hinted at many backyard adventures, and backpacks that were easily half their size, dangling comically from their shoulders.

The sight of them, so small but so determined, made Chan smile as he helped Seojin adjust his shoes.

By the time they made it through the gates, the classroom door was already open. And there you were—  Miss Yn— kneeling beside a table covered in crayons, your face lit up in that soft, welcoming smile that had always made Chan’s heart race.

“Good morning!” you greeted, your voice warm as your eyes landed on the three of them. “Rough start?”

Chan ran a hand through his curls, a sheepish laugh escaping him. “Let’s just say two kids and one missing sock is a recipe for chaos"

You knelt down, greeting the twins first. “Jiwon, is that a flower for me?” you asked, your voice gentle, eyes soft as they looked at the crumpled creation in her hands.

Then, turning to the boy, you grinned. “Seojin, did you try to put your shoes on by yourself? I’m proud of you"

The twins grinned, their eyes shining with pride. Seojin’s cheeks flushed a little at your compliment, and Jiwon grinned as she bounced excitedly on her toes. Chan’s heart hiccupped in his chest, a feeling that was both sweet and unfamiliar.

"Thank you, Miss Yn" Jiwon said, her voice a little higher than usual. She clutched the paper flower tighter, her little fingers wrapping around it protectively.

And for the first time that morning, everything felt calm.

You stood up and faced Chan, a knowing look in your eyes. “It’s okay, Mr. Bang. I get it. Mornings are always a bit of a battle.” You winked playfully, making him chuckle.

Chan glanced at the twins, now excited to begin their day. Seojin tugged at your sleeve, his eyes sparkling.

“Miss Yn, can I put the flower on the table? For you?” he asked shyly, his voice small but full of earnestness.

“Of course”, you said, gently guiding him to the table where he carefully placed the crumpled flower next to the crayons.

As you stood up, you caught Chan watching you, a tender smile on his lips. There was something in the way he looked at you— his expression was soft, his shoulders less tense, as though, just for a moment, he had forgotten the chaos of the morning.

He wasn’t just their dad, the one who had to juggle work and kids. He was someone who had to trust others, someone who could relax when things weren’t perfect.

And in that moment, with the kids happily occupied and the morning song about to begin, it felt as though everything, for once, was exactly as it should be.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

You hadn’t meant to make it sound so serious. You just wanted to talk about the twins— Jiwon’s creativity, the way Seojin seemed to be reading well beyond his age group. It was a good thing. A proud parent teacher conversation. 

But when you pulled Chan aside at pickup and said, “Do you have a moment sometime this week? I’d love to talk about the twins potential”, he stiffened like you'd handed him a surprise bill.

“Are they okay?”, he asked, brows knitting immediately,

“They’re wonderful”, you reassured quickly, a soft laugh escaping, “It’s not a bad thing. I just want to talk about how we can keep nurturing their strengths”

Relief washed over his face, followed by something more thoughtful.

 “Uh… I mean, I’m off work around six most days, but it gets a little wild at home until…”, he hesitated, “Well… Until bedtime”

You nodded, sensing the chaos without needing details, "Understandable"

“But after bedtime, I’m free”, he added, then suddenly flushed, “I mean…. I didn’t mean that. Not like my bedtime. Theirs. I meant their bedtime. I don’t… uh… have a bedtime”

You bit back a smile, “After their bedtime sounds perfect”

“Cool! Yeah, I could…make tea or something?”, he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking to the ground.

“I’d like that”, you said, voice light “I’ll bring the files and the cookies”

He smiled, lopsided and relieved, “Okay, yeah… That’s perfect”

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

When you arrived at the Bang residence, the porch light was on, making the front step glow. Chan opened the door before you could knock, and for a second, your words caught in your throat.

He was in simple clothes— a plain black tee that clung just a little to his chest, and loose grey joggers slung low on his hips. His hair was still damp, curling softly like he’d just gotten out of the shower after wrestling bedtime routines into submission.

He smelled faintly of baby shampoo and his toned, firm arms flexed subtly as he stepped aside to let you in.

"Sorry for the mess”, he said with a shy laugh, and you followed him inside.

It was the kind of mess only a home full of love made— drawings taped to the fridge with crooked magnets, some spelling ‘DADDY IS THE BEST’ in trembling letters. A blanket fort half collapsed near the hallway. LEGO scattered across the coffee table. Tiny mismatched socks clinging to furniture corners like they were forgotten for a long time. The place smelled like fabric softener and desperation

He led you to the kitchen where two mugs sat on the counter beside a dish of cookies you recognized from the classroom snack rotation.

“I hope chamomile tea is okay”, he said, scratching the back of his neck, “Or I could make dinner. I didn’t know what you’d want, so I kinda didn’t… plan anything”

Your heart softened, “Tea’s lovely. But if you have spaghetti, I’ll never say no”

He smiled, shy as usual, “Spaghetti it is, then”

As he cooked, you sat at the counter, watching him move carefully and methodically, checking the pot three times just to make sure. You wondered how often he’d made dinner with a child on each hip, how many nights he spent with no one to tell him he was doing okay.

Halfway through stirring the sauce, his voice dropped quieter.

“Most days, I feel like I’m just… trying not to mess them up”, he admitted, “Hearing that they’re doing well from someone like you it’s... It means a lot. I don’t get to hear that much”

You stood, walking slowly around the counter until you were beside him, “You’re doing better than okay, Mr. Bang. Those kids love you more than anything. I’m proud of you, honestly”

He blinked at you, his breath catching slightly at your words then quickly looked away like he didn’t want to cry over noodles.

Dinner was simple but good. The spaghetti was eaten in a comfortable silence and afterwards, the tea was easily replaced with wine, and you found yourselves on the couch, side by side, sharing stories.

At some point, you asked gently, “Can I ask about their mother?”

He paused. His thumb circled the rim of his glass.

“She left when the twins were about two”, he said finally, “Said she wasn’t ready. Said she loved them but couldn’t do this. I kept thinking maybe she’d change her mind. But she didn’t”.

Your hand rested over his, warm and comforting.

“And yet, here you are. Loving them enough for two people”

He exhaled, heavy, “Some days I feel like I’m barely holding it together. I lie awake wondering if I said the wrong thing, if I’m giving them enough, if they’ll remember their childhood as something happy or something chaotic”

“They’ll remember love, Mr. Bang”, you said, “They’ll remember those spaghetti nights and LEGO castles and their dad kissing their foreheads even when he was exhausted”.

His eyes had drifted down to your lips. Slowly. Intentionally. Then back to your eyes. Then again to your lips, “You can… call me Chris at this point. Ir Chan. It's up to you"

You pretended not to be too excited about that and just nodded.

Eventually, you stood, saying softly, “Can I… give them a goodnight kiss?”

He looked surprised, but smiled, “Yeah. They’re light sleepers, but… go ahead. They’d like that”

You tiptoed into their shared room, kissed each forehead. Seojin murmured something about Jupiter, Jiwon curled deeper into her pink blanket. Then, you came back to find Chan watching from the hallway, arms folded, soft smile on his face.

At the door, just before you left, he hesitated.

“So… Jinnie has been really into science lately”, he said. “And Wonnie thinks spaceships look like marshmallows”. 

He rubbed the back of his neck again— nervous, but hopeful, “They’ve been asking to go to the science museum and I thought maybe, if you’re free… you could come with us?”

You smiled, tilting your head, “As a chaperone?”

He shook his head, a little shy laugh escaping,  “As a friend. Or maybe more than that. If that’s okay”

Your heart flipped in your chest, warm and glowing.

“It’s more than okay”

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

The museum was a whirlwind of tiny sneakers squeaking on polished floors and gasps of wonder echoing off high ceilings.

Seojin had grabbed your hand the moment you arrived, dragging you straight toward the “Build Your Own Rocket” exhibit.

Jiwon, who had glittery butterfly clips in her braids, was less interested in space and more fascinated by how the spaceship models looked like “giant marshmallows ready to melt”.

You laughed with them, knelt down beside them, listened carefully when Seojin explained about Mars' atmosphere like he’d been doing it his whole life. You caught Chan watching from a few feet back, arms crossed, smile soft and full of something deeper.

He joined you in the planetarium, sitting beside you in the low light, shoulders touching lightly. The twins sat between you, leaning against each of your sides. When the stars lit up above, Seojin whispered, “I wanna be an astronaut”, and Jiwon added, “I wanna paint the stars with glitter”

Chan chuckled beside you, low and quiet, then he looked over at you, his voice barely a murmur in the dark.

“You’re good with them”, he said. “Better than I imagined. And I imagined a lot”

You glanced at him, your lips curving, “They make it easy. You did a good job with them”

But really, you meant he made things easy.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

Outside, the sun was beginning to set. Golden light spilled over the parking lot, catching in Chan’s hair making him look even more attractive as he lifted Jiwon into her car seat. Seojin was still clinging to your hand, reluctant to let go.

“Do you gotta go now?”, he asked, looking up with wide eyes.

“Yeah, sweetie. But I’ll see you soon”

He frowned a little, “You’ll come next time too, right?”

You leaned down, brushing a curl off his forehead, “Anytime you want, sweetheart”

Jiwon peeked from the back seat, “Next time we can show you the jellybean galaxy!”

You grinned, “Deal”

As you stepped back, Chan walked you to your car, hands shoved into his pockets. He looked like he was working something out—- something big and maybe a little scary.

Just before you opened the door, he spoke.

“Hey. So this was… really nice. They loved having you. I loved having you around”

You turned, heart pounding.

He swallowed, then tried again, softer.

“I know we’ve kind of been… circling this. But I was wondering if maybe we can… go to… a date? No kids, no science museum… Just us”

You smiled, eyes warm, “I thought you’d never ask”.

He laughed, relief breaking across his face like sunshine. “So that’s a yes?”

“Hell yes”

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

Chan picked you up at 6:30 sharp, wearing a soft blue sweater, sleeves pushed up to his forearms, a delicate cologne clinging to him that smelled like sandalwood and cozy days. He smiled when you opened the door.

“You look amazing”, he said softly, like he’d been waiting for say it the entire drive there.

He took you to a quiet Italian restaurant. It was rustic chic— exposed brick walls, soft jazz playing in the background, and lit candles between you. The kind of place where conversation came easily and time slipped by unnoticed.

He let himself lean into it, lean into you. He laughed, talked about the twins but also about music, late night ideas he used to chase, what he missed about himself before life got so heavy.

At some point, between sips of red wine and bites of pasta, he glanced at you and asked,  “Do you ever feel like there’s a version of you out there somewhere? I mean, untouched by responsibility or grief or fear? Someone still wild enough to dream without a plan B?”

You tilted your head, eyes tender,“Who is that person for you?”

Chan exhaled slowly, like he hadn’t expected you to ask but needed the answer more than he realized.

He paused, “He used to stay up all night writing songs no one would hear. He believed things could work out just because he wanted them to. He didn’t think about failure or bills or being enough. He just… lived”

You nodded, “Do you miss him?”

“I miss how he felt, he admitted, “But I think... I think you bring that version out in me”

You touched his wrist gently, letting silence wrap around the moment before answering.

“I think that version of you still exists. I see him when you talk to your kids. When you laugh. When you look at me with that glint in your eyes”

He smiled, soft and a little shy. And when dessert came, he didn’t look away when he said, “I haven’t let myself want something just for me in a long time. But I want this. I want you”

You reached out for his hand over the table, squeezing it lightly, “I want you too, Chan”

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

As he drove you home, you both laughed over the failed dessert.

“I mean, how can someone mess up tiramisu that bad?”, you teased, shaking your head, “It tasted like damp paper towels and whipped cream”

Chan laughed, “I was trying to be polite about it, but yeah… my mouth is still confused”

You turned to him with a playful smile, “I should make you my strawberry crumble instead. That never disappointed anyone”

He turned to glance at you at a red light, his expression softening, “Strawberry crumble?”

You nodded, “It’s kind of my specialty. A little tart, lots of cinnamon and just the right amount of crispy topping”

Chan hummed, clearly intrigued, “Now that... sounds like a dessert worth staying up for”

You smiled, playful, “Are you asking me to make you some?”

His gaze flicked to you again, “I’m saying I’d love to try anything you make”

“Well, then maybe I do”

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

Back at your place, you kicked off your shoes and bounced to the kitchen, pulling out ingredients while Chan watched you from the doorway, leaning against the frame like he belonged there. Like this moment had been waiting all along.

“So”, you smiled, tying your apron, “You still up for my famous strawberry crumble?”

“I’m up for anything if it means more time with you”, he said, his voice low.

He stepped closer as you moved around the kitchen, brushing past him to reach for the cinnamon. You felt him behind you before he said a word, his hand found your waist without thinking. 

“You have no idea what you do to me”, he murmured, voice grazing the shell of your ear, “I’ve been trying to keep it together all night”.

You turned, breath catching as he caged you in against the counter, hands bracing on either side of your hips. His mouth found your neck, lips soft and open, tongue teasing your skin as he pressed closer.

“Every time you smile at me like that”, he whispered, voice raspier, “I forget how to think. You make me feel like a man again. Not just a dad, running on caffeine and Disney movies. Like I still exist like that”

Your hands curled in his sweater as he kissed down to your collarbone, and then up again, stopping at the curve of your jaw. His hips nudged forward against you, demanding without being possessive

“I want you so badly”, he murmured, lips brushing yours, “But I don’t wanna rush this. I just… need you to know”

You kissed him, soft at first, then deeper, your hands tangled in his hair, his fingers pressing into your waist. It wasn’t just lust— it was weeks of glances, of bedtime giggles and science museums and stolen smiles finally turning into something more.

Eventually, with the crumble forgotten in the oven and your lips swollen from the make out session, he pulled back with a breathless smile.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to taste anything but you after this”

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

Weeks had passed since that first dinner. Since the bad tiramisu, since he walked you to your door with the promise to call.

And he called, and texted, and showed up with warm drinks and tired eyes after long days.

Your dates became routine in the best way— quiet dinners, evening walks, music shared between car rides. But even more than that, there were mornings spent with sleepy kids climbing into your lap and afternoons at the park with juice boxes and way too much energy. You weren’t just seeing Chan anymore— you were becoming a family.

You were at the Bang’s residence, the living room smelled like pepperoni and fresh dough. There was a kid sized mountain of pillows on the floor, and Ratatouille was playing in the background. But the real action was happening in the kitchen, where you stood in front of the counter with Jiwon and Seojin on a stool, each one beside you.

“Hold on”, Chan said, squinting at the recipe book, “What even is a ‘heaping tablespoon’?”

You laughed as Jiwon whispered, hand to her mouth, “Daddy always looks confused when he is around you”

Seojin nodded, “Daddy gets all blushy when people say your name”

“Like this”, Jiwon said dramatically, puffing out her cheeks and smearing flour on them for effect.

Your laugh echoed through the kitchen, full and bright.

“Do I really blush?”, Chan asked from the sink, ears already pink.

“Yes”, both kids said in unison

“It’s okay”, you said, nudging him with your hip as you passed, “I think it’s cute”

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

Later, with their bellies full of pizza and cookies, you helped Chan carry two sleepy, cookie drunk kids up the stairs. He tucked Jiwon in with her favorite stuffed wolf, pressed a kiss to Seojin’s forehead, and turned to flick off the light when the little boy’s voice stopped him.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“Can Yn live here with us someday?”

The girl blinked up sleepily, “I want her to help with bedtime stories”

Chan swallowed, heart catching in his throat.

“We’ll see,” he said softly, already daydreaming, “But that would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

Downstairs, you were just finishing drying the dishes, when you felt a presence behind you. Chan’s hand slid across your waist, his touch needier than before.

He turned you around, guiding you gently but firmly toward the laundry room, shutting the door behind you with a soft click.

“Chan… what’s that?”

He didn’t answer. Just walked you backward until your back hit the dryer machine, then kissed you. Not sweet, not teasing.

Starved.

Tongues tangling, teeth grazing, hands gripping. His mouth devoured yours like he’d waited his whole life to be allowed this.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?”, he rasped between kisses, his breath hot on your lips, “I want you in this house. In my bed. I want to wake up next to you. Watch you make breakfast in my t-shirt. I want your voice in their bedtime routine”

You gasped, fingertips clenching his shirt.

“I want you to be mine”, he whispered against your jaw, kissing down your neck, slow and hot, “Not just here for the cookies and movies. I want you here everyday. For real”

You tilted his chin up so he could see your face, see your smirk softening into something serious.

“So make me yours, Mr. Bang”, you said, already breathless.

That word— Mr. Bang— drawed a raw, shaky breath from him.

His hands slid under your shirt, warm palms against your skin, pushing it up until you lifted your arms and let him tug it off. His lips find yours again— desperate, hungry, but still slow like he was savoring this. Like he was not ready to rush anything that’s taken him so long to let himself want.

He lifted you effortlessly, placing you on top of the dryer machine. His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs as he settled between them. You tugged at his shirt, and he took it off, his muscles flexing. You couldn't help but touch him, dragging your fingers down his chest, his abs, until he groaned.

“You look like a fantasy”, you whispered

“Keep your legs around my waist”, he demanded, dragging his palms up the outside of your thighs, “And your hands on my shoulders”

Your breath caught.

“You can’t be noisy”, he warned, dragging his lips along the column of your throat, a teasing scrape of teeth just under your ear, “They’re asleep upstairs. Can you be quiet for me?”

You nodded, breath catching as his fingers teased down between your legs, slipping past your waistband and finding just how ready you were. He groaned into your neck as he slid your panties aside just to find out how wet you were.

“Fuck, baby… all this for me?”

“You make it hard not to want you”, you panted

He teased, circling two fingers slowly over your entrance, before sliding them in. You answered with a gasp, back arching as his fingers work you open, making you clutch at his shoulders to stay quiet. But you fail. A soft, broken moan slips out, and instantly— he stops.

He pulled back just enough to lock eyes with you, thumb dragging gently over your bottom lip, “Didn’t I say quiet?”

“I tried”, you whispered, flushed and needy.

He rewarded your honesty with a kiss, tongue sliding against yours as he fumbled with his pants. He lined himself up, rubbing the tip of his cock through your slick folds, until you whimpered, and finally pushed inside in one long, delicious thrust. You squeezed his shoulders, swallowing a moan as he filled you.

“I’ve wanted this for so long”, he muttered against your lips, “You feel like mine. All mine”

He fucked you like he meant every word he said earlier. Like he was claiming every second of the life he wanted with you.

Your body trembled, the pressure building until you were gasping, your eyes pleading.

His hips moved in devastating rolls, each thrust deeper, dragging soft whimpers from your throat. His hand clamped over your mouth, his own face contorted with the effort to stay quiet too. The rhythm stutters, then picks up— rougher, needier, but still careful not to knock over anything or make too much sound.

You were close, he felt it.

“Come for me, baby”, he panted

When you came, your body clenched around him so tight he choked on a groan, pulling out just in time, pumping himself hard with his hand as his release spilled over his fingers and your skin,chest heaving as he tried not to groan too loud.

He cursed low under his breath, panting into the crook of your neck, resting his forehead against your shoulder,  “Fuck… I couldn’t risk it. But god, you make it so hard”

He leaned into you after, kissing you softly.

“I’ve been dreaming about that”, he murmured, “And now I need round two. Where I can ruin you in every position I’ve imagined”

You laughed softly, nose brushing his, “You sure you’re not too old for round two?”

He narrowed his eyes playfully, “Oh, baby. You’ll regret that”

You giggled as he helped you get down from the machine, both of you half naked and buzzing with heat when you heard…

“Daddy?”

You both stopped immediately.

Chan mouthed a fuck, then looked for his shirt. You yanked your own top down and slid into the hallway, flushed and breathless.

There she was Jiwon, holding back tears.

“I can’t find Bubbles”

You kneeled, smoothing her hair, “Let’s go find him, sweet girl”

You searched together—under blankets, pillows, even behind the fridge— until you spotted the bunny tucked behind the couch. She smiled and hugged you tight.

From the doorway, Chan watched you. Hair messy, shirt a little crooked, still glowing from what just happened. And at that moment, all he knew was— if there was one thing he was doing right in this life… was choosing you.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ

Epilogue:

It was just past lunch time when Chan told you to wear something cozy and not to ask questions. He held your hand the whole drive, humming under his breath, stealing glances at you like he still couldn’t believe you were actually there.

The road led to the edge of the city, to a quiet hill bathed, where the breeze blew through swaying grass. The twins had fallen asleep in the backseat, curled against each other like they were sharing the same dream, and Chan smiled as he parked, kissing your hand before stepping out.

“Come on”, he whispered, , “I have something for you”

You helped him lay down a few blankets near the car,on the grass. Then, from the trunk, he pulled out his acoustic guitar. You blinked, surprised.

“You wrote me a song?”

He grinned slyly, “Tried to”

When he started playing, it was tender. Every note carried the weight of memories: late night talks, messy mornings, little hands reaching up for yours, flour on cheeks, stolen kisses when both kids were giggling in the next room.

Then came the words, wrapped in that warm tone only Chan had.

I'm never letting go

Let's go on a little walk, see the world outside

Don't wanna let you go

The way that you give me your hands, I'll fly

Eternity

You didn’t realize you were crying until he leaned forward, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. His voice cracked on the last chorus, but he kept going, like the song was the truest way he knew how to speak.

When it ended, you sat in silence, your hand on his chest, feeling the way his heart still trembled under your touch.

“Was it… good?”, he asked

You nodded, tearful and smiling, “It was perfect”

He cupped your cheek again, foreheads touching.

“You’re it for me”, he whispered, “This… us, the kids… this is everything. I just wanted you to know… I’ll love you like this. Always”

Under the open sky, with the twins sleeping nearby and his voice still lingering in the air, you kissed him like a promise.

“I’ll love you too, my Channie. Forever”

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

Taglist: @hyyunjinnn , @jehhskz , @mbioooo0000 , @nightmarenyxx , @rozsdascsaptelep , @thatonegirlonhere , @notmedina127, @sweetlifeofjoy , @jeonginsleftcheek , @yelhsaa, @my-neurodivergent-world , @hyunles , @lexlikesbts , @imagine-all-the-imagines , @mysterysold , @teenagepeterpan , @hangonhyunjin

[elwensa]

A Special Hatchling (2023)

Ooooh boy here it is! My favourite OW comic I ever did! This is the foundation of my Sick Feldspar headcanons. Before making that comic, I started hinting at the fact that Feldspar was a runt, and that Gneiss had quite a strong connection with them. And with this comic, I finally gave a proper origin to all of this! I have a soft spot for stories of the little guy becoming something great, and I applied that to Feldspar's backstory. A weak, sickly, stunted baby that will later become the hero of the village. I just enjoy that very much! This also develops the headcanons I had about Gneiss. I imagined them being very soft and sweet from the beginning. Not very adventurous but always eager to help people. A bit naive, but you can't blame them, they were still very young by that time. The truely had hope for Feldspar's survival, when the rest of the village pretty much assumed they wouldn't survive.

This is also a more proper introduction to Jasper, who I first drew in this comic. They basically were the Hearthians' Mayor before Rutile, and the former doctor of the village. Not much to say about them, they're the typical grumpy and strict but caring old fish, who tends to be just a tad too down-to-earth. They had a very close relationship with Rutile and Gneiss. For their look, I took a design from a scrapped Hearthian in the OW art book, and I thought it would be funny to make them look like a mix of all the Founders together. They're one of the few adults I created to fuel my Young Founders and Sick Feldspar headcanons. I really, really like this comic! And for the newcomers, I hope you'll like it too! Feel free to ask me questions about this headcanon!! ::D

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Long Snake Moan 11

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you’re not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You look out the arched windows of the stone house. The dulcet air of this strange planet wafts through, rippling over the pink waters of the pool before the columns of the immense structure. Mosaic tile trims the edge and lanterns glow with eerie blue flame. The sky maintains it tapestry of lavender, blush, and azure. 

“Well, darling, I would suggest a soak. It will ease you.” Loki suggests as he appears beside you. 

He wears a robe of green with golden edging. It hangs open around his chest, a pair of silky green pants to match. Where you are tense and unsettled, he is entirely at ease. You look back to the calm waters, the smell of rose petals tickles your nose. 

“Maybe,” you hum. 

He snakes his arm around you. “Immaculate.” 

“Very pretty,” you agree. “Doesn’t anyone live here? 

“Not in eons, but the fruits of civilization remain. The architecture and all... a bit overgrown in some places.” His fingers rub your arm. “But I did not speak of the scenery.” 

You narrow your eyes and tilt your head to look up at him. “Stop.” 

“Stop?” He arches his brows curiously. 

“Toying with me. You’ve told me how many times you’re a trickster.” 

“You think I lie? Perhaps how we came together was not the most... romantic, but I am very earnest in my intentions. I’ve made a commitment. Despite the tales that surround me, I am not entirely repugnant.” 

“You don’t even like earth.” You say. 

“Very true, but my brother is there and my people.” He’s quiet for a moment as he looks out through the window. “And you.” 

“You barely know me.” 

“I can surmise a few things of your character. You faced me and told me what you knew would upset me but you did not back down. You’ve integrity. You work hard for that slime of a midgardian, which means you are reliable and fastidious. And... hm, well, feminine wiles and all.” 

You nod, measuring his words. That he hasn’t insulted you once does not help your paranoia. 

“And I am mortal so you will outlive me and be free eventually. I am a means to an end.” 

“I won’t deny there is purpose in this union but it is not without benefits. For both of us, you shall see.” He argues. 

“Loki,” you sigh and press your palms to your cheeks. “I can’t stay here. I have a job.” 

“You should resign. Stark does not appreciate you.” 

“I can’t just quit. I have to pay rent.” You cross your arms. “For both of us now.” 

“That isn’t very true. I have my own living space and I can afford it easily. You are my wife so it is better that you do not trouble yourself with the labour of another man.” 

“It keeps me busy.” You shrug. 

“I will keep you busy as any husband should.” his hand slips down and he gropes your ass. 

You spin away from his embrace and face him, “do you not think about anything else?” 

“You make it difficult,” he snickers. “Wife, we are yet in our blissful early days and I really cannot stop thinking of having you out in the pool.” 

“Oh, wow,” you twitch. Your body thrums at his inference even as your anger flashes. “Alright, well, did you ever consider in all your research that marriage is more than... that?” 

“Certainly, it is more but we do come together wonderfully, don’t we?”

You heave again and shake your head. He grabs your hips and pulls you to him. You put your hands on his chest.

"Only because you don't let me think."

"What's there to think of? No going back, is there?"

"You said your first marriage was annulled."

"That was my third."

"Third? This is?" You eke out.

"Hmmm," he narrows his eyes thoughtfully. "Certainly the most successful. I promise."

"Oh god," you mutter and push on him. "Just... let me go."

"You should try the waters," he clings to you. "They are soothing."

"Uh huh," you wriggle free at last. "Maybe not a bad idea. Alone."

"Mmm," he hums in disappointment. "You are so stubborn it consumes me."

"Stubborn? I'm..." you look out the window. "Lost."

He laughs, "oh, yes. Well, we will settle into each other, as couples do."

You cringe and step away from him. You emerge into the gentle breeze and near the edge of the pool. You steel yourself but he does not appear. You glance back as he remains in the window.

You get down to your knees and dip your hand into the water. You flinch in surprise. You expect them to be cool but they are warm. The perfect temperature. This place is unbelievable. As in no one will believe this story. Just like Mr. Stark didn't believe that you didn't sign that contract.

Ugh, it's all a mess. Well, you'll wait until you're back on your home planet to sort that out.

You raise yourself on your knees and strip off the green robe. You lower yourself onto your bottom and drape your legs into the water. You inch yourself over the edge and slip into the depths cautiously. It's thicker than water. As soothing as Loki said. You wade through and sit on the marble bench beneath the surface. You lean against the stone and lean your head back.

You hate how often he's been right. Shouldn't he be lying to you? Well, he has lied about the most important things, hasn't he? This is all so strange.

The water stirs and you open your eyes. Loki sits across from you, stretching his long arms over the lip of the pool. His chest rises and falls. he watches you.

"It is nice, yes?" He asks. You nod and purse your lips.

"I will control myself as best I can." He says. "So, let us be as husband and wife, and know each other." He stares at you. "Tell me what do you enjoy most? Besides me?"

You glower and it only feeds into his smirk. You take a breath. You don't think you're getting out of this so you guess you'll go along.

"I enjoy reading. Alone." You say. "I like puzzles. Also alone."

He scoffs, "oh, darling. You can retire that word; alone. I'm afraid you're very stuck with me."

You suppress another sigh. Oh, you know it. It doesn't make it any easier to accept.

[kiiirtiiiniii]

your first imprinted hatchling is grown up wyd

[ririright]

“Happy Mother’s Day”

Husband! Hayden x Wife Reader (Headcannons)

❤︎ Hayden’s Secret Planning

He starts planning weeks in advance, sneakily asking your son what he thinks you’d like or what you’ve mentioned wanting lately.

Makes a secret Pinterest board (with the username “SocksAndSmiles”) full of gift ideas, recipes, and cute surprises.

Even asks the animals on the farm for their opinions while feeding them. “Alright, Daisy, think she’d like breakfast in bed or a picnic by the pond?”

❤︎ Early Morning Surprise

You wake up to the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of hushed whispers outside the bedroom door.

Hayden walks in, balancing a breakfast tray with pancakes (heart-shaped, because of course), scrambled eggs, and a little vase with freshly picked wildflowers.

Your son follows behind, carrying a handmade card with his wobbly handwriting and crayon drawings of your family.

“Happy Mother’s Day, sweetheart,” Hayden says with that soft, boyish grin, leaning down to kiss you.

❤︎ Handmade Gifts from the Heart

Hayden’s not just about store-bought presents. He makes you a handcrafted photo frame from reclaimed wood, painting it with a soft rustic finish and filling it with a candid picture of you with your son by the pond.

Your son, with Hayden’s help, paints little animal footprints on the back, with the words “We love you, Mama.”

Sometimes he writes you a sweet, heartfelt letter telling you how grateful he is for everything you do. His words are full of admiration and love, and he gets embarrassed when you cry reading it.

❤︎ A Day of No Chores

You’re not allowed to lift a finger. Hayden insists.

He takes over all your usual tasks—feeding the animals, cleaning the house, even taking over any little messes the kids make.

If you try to help, he swoops in and picks you up, carrying you to the couch. “Nope, you’re on a break today, Mrs. Christensen.”

❤︎ A Special Farm Adventure

If the weather’s nice, Hayden suggests a picnic by the pond. He spreads out a big, cozy blanket, and your son brings his favorite stuffed animal to join the picnic.

You watch as Hayden skips rocks across the water with your son, and your heart melts at how good he is with him.

He brings a tiny Bluetooth speaker, plays your favorite soft songs, and you all just relax together, the farm animals wandering around nearby.

❤︎ The “Mommy Spa” Experience

In the evening, he draws you a warm bath, filling it with rose petals and a lavender-scented bubble bath.

He even lights candles (which he immediately worries are a fire hazard, so he keeps checking them).

When you step out, he’s already set up the bedroom with fresh sheets, and there’s a soft robe waiting for you.

He gives you a foot rub while you both watch one of your favorite movies.

❤︎ Quiet, Sweet Moments

You wake up from a nap to find your son curled up beside you, and Hayden standing in the doorway, just watching with a soft smile.

Later, when your son has gone to bed, Hayden pulls you into his lap, kisses your shoulder, and whispers, “You’re an amazing mom, you know that?”

He loves tracing gentle patterns on your back while you two talk about how lucky you are to have each other.

❤︎ The Mother’s Day Cake Disaster (Almost)

Hayden and your son try to bake you a cake, but there’s flour everywhere, and the batter somehow ends up on the ceiling.

You hear a loud “Uh-oh…” from the kitchen and walk in to see them both covered in flour, Hayden looking like a guilty golden retriever.

He’s ready to apologize, but you just laugh and join them, and the three of you end up having a messy, flour-filled hug.

The cake is a little lopsided, but it tastes amazing, and they both beam with pride when you take a bite.

❤︎ Your Own Personal Concert

After your son goes to bed, Hayden sits at his piano and serenades you in the living room.

He sings your favorite love song, his voice a little shy at first but growing more confident as he sees your soft smile.

You curl up against him, his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, sweetheart. I hope you know that.”

❤︎ Late-Night Pillow Talk

At the end of the day, you’re both lying in bed, and he’s tracing little circles on your shoulder.

“You know, I don’t tell you enough… You’re the reason this family is as happy as it is. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

You lean in and kiss him, and he smiles against your lips.

“Happy Mother’s Day, baby. I love you more than I could ever put into words.”

[honeydippedfiction]

Angel x Joe shy prompt “So deeply in love that it almost makes their friends uncomfortable to witness.” Mixed with “Inside jokes that literally no one understands.” Mixed with “Feathery forehead kisses.”

1k & Birthday Bash nav | main navigation | reqs | table of contents

So deeply in love that it almost makes their friends uncomfortable to witness, Inside jokes that literally no one understands, & Feathery forehead kisses.

Joe Burrow x Angel

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Joe Burrow and Angel had always existed in their own world. It wasn’t something they planned; it simply happened. From the moment their paths first crossed on the LSU campus, something electric sparked between them. Angel had caught Joe’s eye with her effortless smile, her quiet confidence that somehow commanded attention without trying, and a presence that felt like home the moment he looked at her. He’d never believed in love at first sight, but with Angel, it had felt like an undeniable certainty.

Back then, Joe had been laser-focused on football—his final year at LSU, the looming NFL draft, everything feeling like a set of weights pressing down on him. Angel had been the calm in the storm, her laughter and light a source of peace amidst the chaos. But as the seasons passed, and their relationship deepened, something extraordinary happened. Their connection blossomed into something rare, something neither of them had ever known before.

Their love had grown, subtle and unspoken, like the slow unfurling of petals on a flower. It was organic—rooted in late-night talks about the future, impromptu adventures to random places, and the quiet moments of just being present with one another. Joe had always known he wanted to be great, to leave his mark on the world, but with Angel by his side, it felt like he had already found his greatest victory.

They’d been together since Joe’s final year at LSU, before the bright lights of the NFL had even begun to flicker in the distance. Back then, it had been simpler—just two people navigating life together, learning what it meant to be with someone who truly understood. But now? Now, everything had changed. Their love wasn’t just about being together; it was about knowing each other in ways that felt both intimate and infinite. It was the kind of love that made everything else fade to the background. And sometimes, their friends and loved ones felt like they were intruding on something too beautiful to touch.

It was a Saturday evening, and the usual crew had gathered at Joe and Angel’s house. The backyard was alive with the crackle of a firepit, the soft glow of the flames illuminating the familiar faces of their closest friends. The air was warm, tinged with the promise of summer. The sound of laughter filled the space, mixing with the soft clink of glasses and the rustle of conversation.

But in the midst of the crowd, Joe and Angel seemed to exist in their own little bubble. Every so often, their eyes would meet across the circle, an unspoken exchange passing between them—something soft, something electric. Their shared language, an understanding forged over years of being together, always found its way to the surface. They didn’t need words, just the quiet looks, the tiny gestures, the inside jokes that no one else could possibly understand.

Ja'Marr Chase, sitting across the fire from them, leaned back in his chair with a grin, clearly amused but also slightly uncomfortable. “Okay, okay, we get it, you two are in love,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But can you please stop speaking that weird language that only you guys get for like, five minutes?”

Joe’s lips curled into a smile, that easy, effortless smile that Angel had fallen for all those years ago. His eyes caught hers, and a warmth spread through his chest. There was something in that look—a quiet secret, a language only they spoke. Angel, ever the mischief-maker, raised an eyebrow, the corners of her lips twitching as she reached for Joe’s hand.

“Oh, it’s not weird,” she teased, her voice dripping with playful confidence. “It’s an ancient dialect. Passed down through the generations.”

Joe nodded solemnly, playing along. “Exactly. We’ve spent years perfecting it... passed down from the wise elders of... the couch.”

The rest of the group exchanged confused glances. It wasn’t the first time Joe and Angel had thrown out a cryptic comment that no one else understood, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. But to them, it wasn’t strange—it was just another layer of their connection, a language created over countless inside jokes and shared moments.

Ja'Marr squinted at them, clearly baffled. “Wait. Are you seriously telling me you have an actual language?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Joe replied with a straight face. “It’s incredibly complex. Takes years of training to master.”

Angel leaned in closer to him, her voice softening into a whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. “It’s called the ‘Couchian Code,’” she whispered, her lips brushing his ear as she spoke the absurdity of it all. “Once you’re initiated, you get a lifetime pass to... absurdity.”

Joe’s face lit up with an impish grin. “And once you’re in, you get the most sacred of rewards,” he said, his voice turning serious, before he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. The kiss was tender, as light as a feather brushing her skin.

Angel closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the simplicity of it. It wasn’t much, just a quiet gesture that spoke volumes to them both. It was their thing. And she had always teased Joe about it, how no one else could ever understand how something so small could carry so much meaning.

“Forehead kisses,” she murmured, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she pulled back to look up at him, her eyes glimmering with affection and mischief.

Joe chuckled, giving her a knowing look. “Only for you, baby.”

Angel grinned, then tilted her head, giving him a mischievous wink. “Just like I only give you the perfect amount of sass.”

Across the fire, Tee Higgins let out an exaggerated groan, shaking his head. “I’m lost, man. Like, I get that you’re in love and all, but these moments? They’re getting weird.”

Angel threw her head back and laughed, her voice light and melodic. “Oh, it’s not weird,” she said, reaching out and giving Joe’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You just haven’t been initiated.”

Joe’s grin widened, his fingers still laced with hers. “Once you’re part of the club, you get the full experience.”

Tee raised his hands in mock defeat. “Alright, alright. My brain’s hurting just trying to keep up with you two.”

The inside joke lingered in the air, like a riddle no one could solve, but Joe and Angel didn’t care if anyone else understood. They didn’t need anyone else to get it; all that mattered was that they understood each other. The rest of the world could fade into the background.

As the evening wore on, Joe and Angel found themselves drifting back into their own world, the noise of the crowd around them becoming distant. Angel turned to him, a playful glint in her eyes. “Remember the time we tried to make ‘Pineapple’ a thing?”

Joe froze for a moment, his expression turning mock-horrified. “Oh God, don’t remind me. That was a disaster.”

Angel’s grin spread wider as she leaned in closer. “But it wasn’t terrible. It was perfectly ridiculous. Pineapple. The way it sounds. The random way we just decided it needed to mean something.”

Joe shook his head, his lips curling into a smirk. “You and your absurd ideas,” he whispered, leaning in to speak against her ear. “Pineapple... means, ‘I’m going to make you laugh so hard, you’ll forget what you were even talking about.’”

Angel burst into laughter, the sound rich and pure, and Joe’s heart swelled with affection. It was moments like this, these silly, meaningless exchanges, that made their love feel so effortlessly beautiful. It wasn’t just about the big gestures or declarations—it was the little things, the private moments that no one else could ever replicate.

“Pineapple,” she said again, as if the word were magic itself, unlocking more laughter, more ridiculousness.

Joe repeated it with a grin, “Pineapple.” He leaned down, pressing another soft kiss to her forehead—this one lingering just a little longer, slow and deliberate, like it carried everything they had built together: the quiet understanding, the shared memories, the deep, unspoken connection that had been growing between them for years.

Angel closed her eyes as she melted into the kiss, her heart beating in rhythm with his. “I think pineapples are officially our thing,” she whispered against his lips, a teasing smile pulling at her mouth as she pulled back to look at him.

Joe smiled softly, his hand cupping her cheek. “Only we could make pineapples an inside joke,” he said, his voice a quiet promise.

And in that moment, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought or said. It wasn’t about grand gestures or big speeches—it was the small, perfect moments: the ridiculous inside jokes, the feathery kisses, the language they had built that no one else could understand. They had everything they needed, right there, in those simple, intimate exchanges.

“Pineapple,” Angel whispered, her forehead resting gently against his once more.

“Pineapple,” Joe echoed, his lips brushing her head in a soft, feather-light kiss. In that moment, everything felt perfect. Their world was theirs alone.

[enokito]

Key | Back to Basics

I still don’t know how to format on tumblr so I’m basically just copying the way Saiint does it except also I’m on my phone

Inspired by her post on what kind of small sentimental items Ken might like to keep in their pockets. I like physical security pen-testing content, therefore my Kenadian operates somewhere in between irl security bypass strategies (slipping latches, picking locks, copying keys) and minecraft escapist tech.

WC: 715 | divider

First of all, Kenadian doesn’t consider himself a very sentimental person. He’s practical above all else, and has to be – he’s an escapist, after all, and the first part of escaping involves being (at least nominally) imprisoned. He’s honed himself, like a blade, to be excellent at this one particular thing, and so he sheds all excess like water, in favor of absolute practicality. An earring can get ripped out during a particularly tricky crawl glitch or pearl clip, a necklace can get caught on something and strangle or garrote him, anything reflective can catch a glimmer of light directly into a guard’s eye and get him caught.

Second of all, items can be lost or stolen even more easily than memories, and he wouldn’t be able to handle it. The idea of coming home and feeling unfamiliar walls closing in on him, the idea of seeing a photograph of himself with his friends, and not being able to recognize any of the faces (not even his own)…

Ken avoids stuff that freaks him out, and part of honing himself like a blade means that he operates on a hair trigger. And either way he prefers his life of transience, hopping from place to place, keeping small bases knowing that they’re impermanent, passing out on a friend’s couch after a few days of going non-stop. It’s fun, he loves adventure and playing with danger, and he loves narrowly slipping through to the other side and showing up at Avatar’s place unexpectedly. Therefore, Avatar is the one with his prison escape speedrun times framed on his wall; Wato is the one with the massive folder of all his escape room blueprints, Jammin’s got a pile of his laundry at her place even though he basically wears the same hoodie and black work pants every day.

But the carabiner clipped to his belt loop to hang at his hip, a matte steel gray and perfectly innocuous, is a gift from Wifies. The keyed-alike group set of keys he still uses are from Wato and his lockpicks are from Avatar, his under door tool is from Tundra and his traveler’s hook is from Void, his RFID badges were all printed and programmed by Maximum. He even still has the pair of binoculars Cory gave him while they were together, though he doesn’t use them anymore, and has gone back to just lowering his FOV or using optifine zoom. Jammin is also more of a builder than an escape artist, but he just ends up with more dresses and skirts and high socks whenever he stays the night with her, which he’s not gonna complain about.

The point is, his closest friends catch on to what kind of items have a chance of making it into his everyday carry packs, and gift him accordingly (if Parrot catches on one of these days, he is willing to finally get rid of those binoculars in favor of a spyglass).

When he’s in the zone, the pieces of a puzzle forcing everything else out of his brain, or when he’s on really good pace for a speedrun of some gauntlet or obstacle course, or holding his breath against the wall as guards make their rounds less than a meter away, Kenadian doesn’t need to be reminded of his friends. Would really prefer not to be distracted, in fact, since a single lapse in focus could get him caught or force him to reset the room entirely. But he’s also not mad when he notices the nail polish chipping off his fingers and realizes he hasn’t talked to another person in way too long.

He might not keep a permanent residence of his own, but that means “coming home” can also mean greeting Wifies with a peck on the cheek and begging Wato to mend a tear in his hoodie from when it got caught on some dripstone, a mug of tea at Seawatt’s kitchen counter, seeing friends who don’t mind getting woken up in the middle of the night by Ken’s arrival at their back door. Ken belongs to himself before anybody else, won’t change who he is even with handcuffs around his wrists and a netherite ax held to his throat, but the people who love him don’t demand him to.

[lacydaydream]

Letters To My Baby Girl

cw: nothing! just dean being a sweet n sentimental girl dad

estelle yaps: dean my beloved. this is a collection of letters dean would write to his daughter on her birthday! i got this idea from the amazing book Beach Read by emily henry. read it, it will change your life.

wc: 1.3K

Dear baby girl,

Today is the day you made me the happiest man in the world. You’ve got ten tiny toes, two bright eyes, ten perfect fingers, and the cutest little nose I’ve ever seen. And even if you didn’t- even if you had none of those things- you’d still be the most perfect girl to ever exist. No contest.

You fit right in the palm of my hand. When I held you for the first time, when I felt how small and breakable and precious you were, I cried. Didn’t stand a chance.

I knew you were coming. I knew it for months. Uncle Sam and I spent weeks working on your nursery. We had no idea we were signing up for the most important job of our lives- building a space that made your mama smile and still felt cool enough to be ours. So yeah, that’s why you’ve got both Winnie the Pooh stuffed animals and a Zeppelin record hanging on your wall. You’ll understand someday. Or maybe you won’t- but that’s okay, too.

Still, it didn’t feel real until they handed you to me. Not after the long hours of labor. Not after all the words that flew out of your mama’s mouth when things got tough. It was you- pink and new and naked to the world and all its ugliness- that made it hit me. You were something to protect. Someone to protect.

You’re a someone. You’re going to grow into a someone. That blows my mind.

Today is the day you made me a father. Today is the start of the long road where I get to watch you grow into the woman I already know you’ll become. Even now, as I’m writing this and watching you and your mama nap together, it brings me more joy than I know what to do with.

Right now, I know everything about you. You don’t know a thing about me. So I’m writing this for you- a way for you to know who I was before I was just “Dad.”

Hi, I’m Dean Winchester. Your dad. Not that you’ll ever call me anything else.

It’s November 3rd. And today? Today is the best damn day of my life.

・・・・・

My girl,

You’re a year old today.

I’m sitting here thinking about all the adventures we’ve had this year. The hours we spent figuring out what your mama calls “tummy time.” The late nights you and I stayed up, learning the words to the greatest songs ever written. The times you had my back and peed on your uncle- by the way, kid, that was awesome. And your first steps. Your first “Da.”

And all the times I had to leave to fight the monsters in the world.

That part broke my heart. Every single time.

It feels like I missed so much. If I count it up, it’s probably only a month out of your first year. Doesn’t matter. Feels like too much. Feels like I blinked and lost something I can’t get back.

You and your mama are the best gifts this life’s ever handed me. And even though I hate leaving, I take pride in knowing that when I do, it’s to make the world just a little safer for my girls. That’s what keeps me going. That’s what gets me home.

You’ve got my eyes, kid- those big green ones that make me hand over ice cream when your mama’s not looking, and let you babble your way out of naps. But you’ve got her smile. The brightest damn smile I’ve ever seen. Brighter than the sun, no contest. Right now, your hair’s this sandy blonde. Everyone’s betting it’ll turn brown, but me? I kind of hope it stays just like this.

Who am I today?

I’m the hands that help you climb those weird jungle gym contraptions at the park down the road. I’m the guy trying (and probably failing) to get you to eat peas for the first time.

・・・・・

Happy second birthday, kiddo!

You’re getting so tall. And your hair’s darkened up since last year. Your mama says you look like her sister, but me? I think you look like my mother.

I just know she would’ve loved you.

Someday, when you’re older, we’ll take over the kitchen together. We’ll roll up our sleeves and try to make the cherry pie she used to bake for me. Maybe we’ll nail it. Maybe we’ll make a mess of the whole thing. Either way, it’ll be ours.

・・・・・

Today you’re four.

Cas brought you a kitten. Do you remember what you named that white ball of fluff? Lady. Because you and your mama have been watching that Disney movie with the fancy cats-The Aristocats, I think. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re growing into your own little person, figuring out how you see the world.

You love pie. You think your mama’s the most beautiful woman on the planet (I agree). You think Uncle Sam should get a haircut (I definitely agree).

And kid, you share better than most grown-ups I know. If we’re sneaking cookies late at night, you’ll march straight down the bunker hall waking everyone up to ask if they want one too. You don’t stand for crap, either. We were at the park this week- some kid was being mean to his little brother, and you walked right over and gave him a piece of your mind. Like a true Winchester.

I’m so damn proud of you. Every single day.

My dad never told me that growing up. So I make sure I tell you every chance I get.

・・・・・

My little princess,

I raised my voice at you for the first time this year. And I’m so damn sorry.

See, that’s what I grew up with. Your granddad- the guy you see in those old pictures- he was a tough man. Ran a tight ship. If me or your uncle messed up, he’d yell loud enough to shake the walls. For hours sometimes.

I promised myself I’d never do that to you. And I broke that promise.

Truth is, kiddo, I was scared out of my mind. Somehow- we’re still not sure how- you got your hands on one of my guns. The second I saw you holding it, my heart just dropped. I’d never felt fear like that before.

I yelled. You dropped it. Nothing bad happened, thank God.

But that night, I cried. Right there in your mama’s arms. We both did.

She told me something I won’t ever forget- kids don’t come with manuals. You get dropped into our lives, and we’re just supposed to figure it out as we go. We make mistakes- sometimes big ones. But we learn, and we get better.

Now every single weapon, even the knives I once thought were fine, is locked up tight. Where they always should’ve been.

I’m here to protect you, kiddo. Always. That’ll never change.

・・・・・

10 years old.

Kid, I can’t believe it. Ten whole years.

Every day you’re growing, learning, testing the limits. You used to fit in the palm of my hand- tucked right against my side in what we used to call the Dean Cave. Guess it’s the Dad Cave now.

I’m sitting here, just thinking about how far we’ve come. You’ve been in my life for a decade. Ten years of the best damn moments I’ve ever had. Ten years of watching you figure this crazy world out- piece by piece, question by question.

You amaze me every single day. The way you think. The way you stand up for what’s right. The way you don’t back down, even when it’s hard. You’ve got more guts and heart than most people twice your size.

I feel like I never say it enough. But, I’m so proud of you kiddo. Always.

Love,

Dad.

divider by muruffin

[starshipsofstarlord]

roses, just for you | kai parker

summary. after spending a night with your sole companion in the prison world, you realise that you have began to fall for kai. there is so much you want to know about him, but he only lets on so much, distracting you with his affection (1.5k)

warnings. mentions of sex and murder, fluff, kai evading the truth of his past, imprisonment in the prison world

divider credits. @cafekitsune

The stream of sunlight hit you before you awoke, the golden rays resting upon your skin. It was beautiful, but it held less beauty than how you had spent the previous night. You had finally caved to the insistent siphon that had wandered through the prison world alone until you had turned up. At first you had thought of him as annoying and brash, his hyper personality sparring with your own that was much less enthusiastic from the recent interval of your entrapment.

Each and every day was supposed to be the same here, an endless loop of time that had no end, always returning to it’s exactly tempo, the weather and temperature never once shifting from its infinite pattern. But with Kai he made it feel different, as though each reset at midnight was a whole new adventure. He wanted to show you the world, places that you had never been to and the places that you had always wanted to. There was not a single soul that could get in your way, or so much as attempt to stop the both of you amidst your exploration.

And last night, well the two of you had finally explore each other’s bodies. There had been no overpowering hunger to bear witness to the nudity of one another, instead it had been intoxicatingly sweet, the joining of your bodies coming together being a union of more than lust. The recent memory brought a smile to erupt onto your face. You missed your friends and you had no doubt that they were trying to find you and bring you home, but that didn’t dampen the mood that Kai had began to erupt within you.

You were okay with remaining in the prison world a little longer you realised, you had every intention of finding an exit but the hunt for that could wait for now. With a blissful smile etched upon your face, you rolled over to the other side of the bed where Kai had rested his head, though a pang shot through your heart when you realised he wasn’t there. He was gone. In your mind it hadn’t been or had felt like a one night stand. Hell, you were the only two people in this place, it wasn’t like he could run off to the company of someone else.

That gave you some relief, but it wasn’t enough. Had you scared him away? Kai had mentioned in passing of conversation that he wasn’t good with emotions, and sometimes got them mixed up. You hoped he hadn’t gotten confused over your perception of him, you were starting to like him, and as much as you did not want to admit it for the vulnerability that it brought you, you were sure that you were falling for him.

So with a tired and sore haste you dragged yourself up from the mattress that you had spent such an intimate experience with Kai on, reaching to gather the clothes that you had discarded across the floor, however they had also disappeared. All that remained, folded neatly at the end of the bed was a shirt that you recognised as not being your own. Perhaps it had been his intention that you would notice it, and so you pulled the material over your head, opting for a fresh pair of panties to wear with it.

Your bare feet padded around the house that Kai had grown up in, him having briefly stated that it had not been the easiest household to habit, and as you neared the kitchen you were hit with the smell of food that invaded your senses and made your stomach groan in approval. He was still here; immediate relief drowned your mind, he hadn’t left you as you had feared. The siphon’s focus was on a tray that was set on the counter, a plate upon it, the ceramic crammed with your favourite breakfast meal. “Good morning.” Kai jumped at the sound of your voice, not having expected you to have risen yet.

“You’re supposed to still be in bed.” Kai stated, and your raised your eyebrows, though there was a smile on both of your faces. The man abandoned his task, moving across the room towards you, one of his hands cupping your face, the other slinking down to hold your waits through his shirt. He leaned so that he could greet you properly, his lips seeking yours in a sensual and heartfelt kiss, you wanted to draw it out, though he pulled back with a pout on his face. “I was making you breakfast in bed.”

His words made your heart swoon, you had never had a man in your life who was so attentive and thoughtful. It was truly a crime for him, a one of a kind soul, to have been exonerated into an entrapment on his lonesome. You couldn’t understand why anybody would want to punish Kai in such a terrible way, he didn’t deserve it, you thought, pristinely unaware of the terrifyingly awful acts that he had committed. If Bonnie managed to open a veil for you to escape out of, an opportunity to leave this purgatory, then you would not hesitate to bring Kai back to the rush of the present with you.

It was a society that had its flaws in Mystic Falls, your hometown always drawing in bouts of trouble, but if Kai were in it with you then it would make it much easier to sieve through. He made everything feel as though it would be easy. “So that’s why you got up,” you observed, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, and he was practically eating out of your hand from the attention. He was such an open book, you thought, and you were glad that you had not been swayed into the arms of a vampire like some of your friends.

Yes, he was a witch, but he only had immortality in this world as you did. He held no hunger in anything except from of course food, and apparently spoiling you with his affections. You felt irritation at yourself for not having held trust and care for him sooner. “Of course, you need to eat.” Kai pecked the tip of your nose, inwardly debating whether to get deeply lost in you again or usher you towards the table so that he could indulge you with his cooking. He chose the latter, pulling a chair out for you before you sat down.

He retrieved the tray, bringing it over to the place before you, pressing his lips to yours once more. “Don’t get ahead of yourself Parker,” you prompted him, kissing him gently again, “let me eat first.” He laughed lightly, feeling a strange fluttering that beat within his chest. He wanted to ask you about it, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment, or accidentally slip up if he overexerted his speaking into mentioning the giddy emotion that he had felt when taking the lives of his siblings. No, you could not know, otherwise that would bring ruin to whatever he had with you. He was enjoying it far too much to cast it aside.

The silver cutlery was within your grasp, and Kai held the back of your hand softly, forcing you to stop your motions. “Uh, uh, uh.” You were confused, but Kai smiled towards you, telling you to wait a minute as he left, stepping out onto the porch only to return a moment later. In his hands was a clear vase that contained the stems of a dozen roses, their crimson heads above the surface, the rolled petals expressing a scent that you adored. He placed it onto the table before the tray. You swore that he could make your heart melt.

“What are these for?” Your appreciation was shown through your expression, as your eyes drifted between him and the beautiful flowers. Damn him, you were truly falling. Falling for him and all the surprises that he was constantly bringing you, not only in the form of gifts and sentiments, but also within himself. He didn’t have to do any of this, he was the only guy in this world, and there was no one for him to compete with, but he did it anyways. Despite your wish for a return to the life you had before you had been sent here, you had never smiled so much outside of the prison world.

“You said that no one had ever got you flowers before,” he said endearingly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the blasted universe. “So I did. And they will never die, since it’s the same day over and over again. Though I will make sure that they aren’t your last.” Kai had made you well and truly fall for him, you were shocked into silence unsure of what to say. Luckily, Kai did not expect any words, kissing you again, feeling as you melted into him.

He frowned into the kiss, the sight oblivious to your closed eyes. There had been the feeling of a shift within the world, the same sensation that overcome him when you had joined him as a prisoner in this realm. It couldn’t be ignored, someone else, two souls in fact had joined you in the prison world. He dismissed the idea of informing you, pulling gently away as he stroked your hair. “You better eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”

[stars-n-spice]

Welcome back to my attempts to post something Silly Squad (Bad Batch x Baddies Batch) related - be it headcanons, one shots/fics, or art - every Saturday! Just cuz Silly Squad Saturday has a nice ring to it.

This week we have: Mothers!

Tomorrow is Mother's Day and today is Día de Las Madres (you best believe my mom milks this weekend), so I figured to do some doodles of the moms with their kiddos for the Secgen Silly Squad AU! Plus Echo with his kiddos 😌

And as a bonus, I included the biggest Mama's Boy ever with his Moms!

Close ups and more under the text!

Viram with her boys!

Sometime down the line, Echo and Viram decide to adopt Deke and he is an absolute Mama's boy. Their other two boys are Tikan and Zisanu, and they are a handful and a half. Tikan's a little rascal who is always up to protect his little brother, should he get into any trouble (and he tends to). It's a little difficult to juggle a rebellion and three boys, but, of course, she and Echo wouldn't have it any other way!

Find out more about Viram and her kiddos here!

Khea with her ad'ika's!

What happens when you put a clone and a Mandalorian together as parents? You end up with a lot of kids! The first of their kiddos was Itri, a Foundling Khea took under her wing. Later on, they adopted Stak and then came their own kiddos. First were the twins, Maia and Marama, a dynamic duo with pranks up their sleeves and adventures to tackle. Then, of course, is the baby of the family, Elio. A more soft-spoken individual compared to his family who reminds Khea a lot of her late younger brother. While they can all be a lot, Khea is constantly grateful of how they've helped encourage her to continue to grow as a person.

Find out more about Khea and her kiddos here!

Phee with her kiddos!

There's no shortage of adventures in the Genoa household. Whether it's exploring planets, discovering and recovering ancient relics, or just watching old footage of Tech's riot racing before bed–there's always something fun to be done. Their oldest, Vela, has inherited her parents' skills and talents in piloting and has an interest in cartography. On the other hand, her younger brother, Rangi, inherited his mother's love of adventure and loves to record all the adventures they go on in his datapad–hoping to one day write a book of sorts.

Find out more about Phee and her kiddos here!

Tay'kaa with his moms!

First up we have a younger kid Tay during his time in the gladiatorial arena with his mentor/surrogate mom, Ko D'Ruq. Aka the "Daemon Devaronian" and the reigning champ in The Cauldron. She was the one who took him under her wing and trained him so that he'd have a chance of survival in that hell pit they were stuck in. Unfortunately, she would not last and it wouldn't be until later down the line that Tay would get connected with Na'yeli Marr, a Kessurian whom Ko loved dearly and Tay promised to look after once he was free.

@here-comes-the-moose and I are always joking about how at that point in Tay's life he's nearing 30 and is still living with his mom. There is absolutely no shame in that, but there's something incredibly amusing about a former gladiator turned mercenary who once worked for a crime syndicate and now the Empire not being able to stay out late because his mom wants him home to help with dinner. No way he's going to say "no" though, the man is an absolute mama's boy.

Echo with the babies of the batch!

Then of course, last but not least, we've got Echo with his ducklings Omega and Crosshair. What a trio! No wonder they had to be separated for most of The Bad Batch, if they hadn't then everything would've been resolved in like a season. Still can't believe we got a "What? No hug for me?" from Crosshair to Echo.

💫 Silly Squad Masterlist 💫 Baddies Batch Masterlist

<< Prev Silly Squad Saturday

[anythinggoesbutme]

Always, and Then Some

Grayson Hawthorne x Lyra Kane (Hawthorne)

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, domestic scenes, light kissing

Synopsis: In the quiet comfort of their home, Lyra and Grayson share a simple, perfect morning—complete with pancakes, coffee, and a love that feels like it can never fade.

Word Count: 833

There’s something impossibly gentle about mornings with Grayson Hawthorne.

The light slips through their bedroom window in warm ribbons, catching in the golden strands of his sleep-mussed hair. Lyra watches him from her pillow, chin tucked into her arm, her wedding ring catching the sunlight as she absentmindedly reaches for him.

“Staring at me again?” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep and that smile—the one he saves just for her—already curving at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m allowed,” she says simply. “I married you.”

Grayson rolls onto his side, the sheets twisting around his waist. He reaches for her hand, lacing their fingers together, and presses a kiss to her knuckles. “Best decision I ever made,” he says, and means it. He always means it.

“Even better than buying that mountain house with the waterfall shower?” Lyra teases.

“Even better than that,” he says solemnly, then grins. “Though it’s close.”

She laughs, and the sound wraps around his ribs like silk. There are photos from their wedding scattered across their home—quiet reminders of the day everything officially changed. But the real magic is in mornings like this. Lazy ones. Soft ones. Ones where the coffee can wait and the world can turn without them for a little while longer.

Lyra presses a kiss to his jaw. “We should get up.”

Grayson pulls her back down against him. “No, we really shouldn’t.”

“I have emails—”

“Let them pile up,” he whispers into her hair.

“You have meetings—”

“Cancel them.”

“Grayson Davenport Hawthorne missing a meeting? Not working for once in his life, i’m truly shocked,” she makes and exasperated gasp than laughs, and he groans.

“Fine,” he says dramatically. “One more minute.”

It ends up being twenty. Twenty minutes of nose kisses and whispered I love yous and Grayson mumbling about naming future kids after Greek gods while Lyra hides her face in the crook of his neck, laughing too hard to argue.

Because being married to Grayson Hawthorne feels a little like this every day: like she’s always falling, and he’s always there to catch her—with steady hands, a teasing smile, and a love that never runs out.

Grayson is still half-asleep when Lyra finally slips out of bed.

She moves quietly, barefoot on the cool wood floor, stealing one of his old white dress shirt from the back of the chair—oversized and soft, sleeves falling past her fingertips. It still smells like him. She buttons it lazily as she pads into the kitchen.

The morning is quiet. Still. The kind of peaceful that only exists in the early hours of a shared life. Outside, the sky is warming to blue, and somewhere in the trees, birds are starting to stir. Lyra hums softly as she starts the coffee, swaying a little in place while she gathers ingredients for pancakes.

Flour. Eggs. Blueberries he insists on buying every week, even though they always forget them in the fridge.

She cracks the eggs one-handed—Grayson taught her that; he was smug about it for days—and lets the familiar rhythm of mixing and measuring lull her into a soft kind of focus. Domesticity has never felt like a cage. Not with him. With Grayson, everything feels like a choice. A shared adventure. Even breakfast.

The coffee finishes brewing just as she flips the first pancake.

Behind her, soft footsteps.

“You left,” he says sleepily, voice gravelly.

“I made coffee,” she counters, glancing over her shoulder with a grin. “And pancakes.”

Grayson looks entirely too good for someone who just rolled out of bed but nothing like the Grayson everyone knew—shirtless, hair a mess, sleep still in his eyes as he crosses the kitchen to stand behind her. He slides his arms around her waist and presses his face into the crook of her neck.

“Smell like blueberries,” he mumbles.

“That’s because I’m making blueberry pancakes.”

“No,” he says, kissing her skin. “You smell like happiness.”

She blushes. He always does this—says the kind of things you only hear in love songs, and somehow makes them sound entirely unscripted.

“You’re such a sap.”

“Married sap,” he says, placing another kiss to her shoulder. “Your sap.”

She turns in his arms, hands splayed on his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re in my shirt,” he says, tugging on the hem. “Which is frankly distracting.”

She laughs, tipping up on her toes to kiss him. It’s soft and slow, the kind of kiss that tastes like mornings and forever. The kind that lingers, even when the coffee gets cold and the pancakes are slightly overdone.

When she pulls back, he’s smiling in that way again—the quiet, contented kind that says this is enough. That she is enough.

“Married life looks good on you,” he whispers, resting his forehead against hers.

“It looks good on us,” she says.

And in that little kitchen—surrounded by blueberry batter and morning light—Grayson leans in and kisses his wife like she’s the most ordinary, extraordinary thing that’s ever happened to him.

Because she is.

[sonic-gallery]

Introducing the Sonic Channel wallpaper for January!

Happy New Year. I'm Tomoko Hayane! I'll be doing the wallpaper introductions for the Sonic Channel again this year. I look forward to working with you!

Now, let me introduce the first wallpaper illustration of 2025.

This time we will be introducing...

This is Tails, Sonic's trusty partner and brilliant mechanic!

With his two rotating tails and his bangs standing straight up, and his dynamic pose, he's just as energetic as Tails ♪

Tails first appears as a cute little brother who looks up to Sonic, but then grows into a strong man through many adventures and accomplishments.

That trajectory is reflected in his boyish cuteness and confident expression!

Looking back, what was the biggest turning point for your growth? Was it when you mustered up the courage to fight Dr. Eggman alone in Sonic Adventure, saying to yourself, "One day, I have to start running on my own..."?

I remember all the hard work I've put in up until now, and my heart aches. Tissue, tissue...

a!

If you put your face between the two tails that spin like propellers, you might be able to wipe away your tears in one go! Plus, it looks so fluffy and comfortable!

...I really feel that Tails' tail has limitless possibilities. It seems like it could be used for more than just flying freely in the sky.

For example, you could have them blow some fresh air on you! And let them release the aroma of mint! It would also help soothe Tails' tired head after all the invention work.

Tails would probably say, "I'll try it!", but I'm sure he'll create the perfect aroma circulator mechanism in no time! If he showed me the super-spinning fan powered by the Chaos Emeralds with a proud smile, I wouldn't be able to say anything anymore♪

So...everyone, please download this wallpaper and imagine a bright future together with Tails!

Also, I would be very grateful if you could let me know what you think of the illustrations and what you would like Tails to invent using the hashtag #Sonicatsu on X (old Twitter) ♪

Well, see you again in the next wallpaper introduction!

[rushing-waters]

A lot of post-Empire Inheritance fics have the new Riders be an even distribution between the four races as if the dragons have a diversity quota, but I sorta think they would tend to prefer elves first, then Urgals and humans, with dwarven riders being the most uncommon because their natural dispositions just. don't. match. The evolvement of their race is very territory-specific; namely to the mountains and stones and the world within them - what we get of dwarven culture shows them as a very clan-oriented, closed off group of people. And while that's changing a bit under Orik's rule, it doesn't change the fact that they naturally prefer stones and caves and a set settlement surrounded by clan and kin instead of flying on a dragon all over with multi-raced companions. Orik is as progressive and open-minded as you can get but even he hates flying! So I'd think that amongst dwarves it would take a really unique, adventurous individual to attract - and in turn be happy with - the companionship of a dragon and life as its rider. Such dwarves would be anomalies (in a good way, but still unusal), not the norm for their people.

There'd be more elves b/c canonically I think it's said somewhere that most Riders were elves. Granted the humans were only added in later but the elves' shared history with the dragons and the initial legacy that ties their races together runs too deep; their magic and culture - and even state of being - is wholly intertwined with each other (dragons gave elves immortality, elves gave dragons speech, they literally made each other into what they are) so I'd like to think there's always going to be this natural affinity between them, like a sense of innate kinship. Or a more symbiotic evolvement relationship like that of clownfish and sea anemones.

Urgals are the most similar to dragons in nature - they're straightforward, value strength and hunting prowess, in tune with the land and nature and celebrate all of nature's harsher laws in their constant desire to fight, hunt, and win, but upon achieving that they're content with their lot in life. No intricate politics or bottomless ambitions. All nice and simple and visceral. Aligns with the dragons perfectly. They can be the perfect hunting partners and no dragon bonded with an Urgal would ever need to deal with the vegetarian crisis.

Also the dragon's going to have the best playmate growing up, they can wrestle together and butt horns

Humans are the most unpredictable. And varied. Scanning human minds would prolly be a lot like browsing ao3 tags, whatever niche trait the dragon embryo's looking for in a partner, there's bound to be a human who has it lol.