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[social-growth-assist]

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[imthebeast]

wardrobe malfunctioning my way into a republican drag king look worked a little too well at today's seminar

[crescenthistory]

i hear searching for fluff. i raise you cat animagus reader and the animal politics that come with being a cat. oh that’s a glass of water you’ve placed on the counter? what a perfect place for my paw to go. they’re a total goodie two shoes but can never stop themselves from swatting at and generally terrorizing sirius, dog form or not. i’ve seen so many videos of woodland animals like stags befriending cats or stealing their food and everyone just being like “wdym i didn’t know they could do that”. reader starts slow blinking at people without realizing. i could go on for forever i would love to see shenanigans and hijinks

beautiful thoughts, i enjoyed all of them. i let them inspire me into a drabble situation of cat!reader terrorising sirius with reg (and rem) on her side. this is just pure chaos and silliness, thank you for the opportunity lovie<3

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, no use of y/n but your cat form is called "whiskers", james and sirius pranked you mildly, you get revenge as a cat, you are only in cat form throughout this, sibling squabbles, super minor injuries (you put your claws in sirius), platonic physical affection, general chaos and fluff

Note: this is technically in the same universe as my other two (first, second) cat!animagus!reader fics with regulus, but can be read alone. it is more of a platonic!sirius x reader fic though, it focusses on the interactions between them + reg, rem and james

Sirius had been made aware by many a parent, professor and otherwise nosey adult, that actions had consequences. Which was all fine and dandy with him, the consequences were often the sole inspiration for his actions. 

This, however. This, they did not warn him about.

“Ow, ow, ow!” he hissed, trying to shake the feline creature off his shoulder. 

Just a few seconds ago, she had been innocently peering down on his textbook, front paws resting on his shoulders as she stood on the top of the sofa he was reclining against. That didn’t last long though, as her claws came out and dug in through the fine material of his shirt, seeking the pain and destruction this evil creature seemed to live off of.

Unaffected by his shaking, she elegantly climbed down his arm – claws still out and still using him as leverage – to plop onto the table before them with a soft prrt!

“Remus, your friend is hurting me,” Sirius sneered at his boyfriend who was sat in a grandfather chair beside him, flipping through a newspaper Sirius was quite certain was out of date.

The other boy hummed noncommittally. “Does she have reason to?” he asked without looking up from the paper.

“No!” Sirius exclaimed at the same time as Regulus said, “absolutely.”

He shot his brother a glare on the other side of the sofa. He was reading through a novel in pristine condition, only looking up to glance fondly at the menace currently parading around the coffee table. Sirius was growing miffed that none of his hangout companions were sparing him any attention.

“I haven’t done anything, and if I had the minx should be over it by now.” Sirius did his best to seem authoritative, but he had a tough crowd.

You hissed at him from where you were standing on the table. Regulus looked up at that with mirth swimming in his eyes despite his impassive facial expression.

“She seems to disagree, Pads,” Remus said nonchalantly. “She’s also been running around as Whiskers for the past few hours, which she only does when she is either really pleased and really upset.”

“And she’s not pleased,” Regulus added unhelpfully.

Sirius muttered something under his breath that amounted to “I wouldn’t be pleased either, if I had to be in a relationship with such a grump” to which he received a throw pillow to the face, another hiss and an admonishing “Pads”.

"It was just a little prank," Sirius defended himself. "It's quite literally what we do." He didn't feel the need to go into the specifics; this was a dog he wanted to bury yesterday. Or, well, cat.

"To no one's enjoyment but your own, I'm sure," Regulus huffed. "If she's bothered by it, that's entirely her right."

Sirius looked to Remus for some backing up, and when he found none, he let out another groan, collapsing further into the sofa in his evident despair.

He would have happily stayed there, bitching and moaning as he pleased, had it not been for the suspicious sounds coming from the coffee table.

There, he found that you had not looked away from him and were sitting disturbingly close to the little homework station he had sat up earlier to then promptly ignore – an open textbook, half-written essay, quill and unscrewed inkpot. The look in your eyes was one you had picked up from Remus in your early days together, full of mischief and tomfoolery. 

“Don’t you even dare–” Sirius managed to get out as he sat up in his seat and pointed a chiding finger at you, but the damage was done.

With what almost sounded like cat laughter – something most unknowing students would brush off because why would a cat laugh but Sirius knew all too well must be your joy at his expense – you knocked over his inkpot. The pot was almost full and the ink fell right on top of his essay and textbook. He let out a half-screech as he moved forward to correct the damage, but you walked straight into the pool of ink, ensuring you were spreading it further around his essay and the feather of his quill. 

Regulus let out an unrestrained bark of laughter as Sirius sank to the floor in front of you, blabbering anger, while Remus simply snorted as he shook his head, choosing not to get involved yet.

“You furry bastard!” Sirius called out as he picked up his parchment, trying to shake some of the excess ink off, only worsening its condition. “You absolute menace.”

Some of the ink he shook off got on your fur, adding to what was already coating your paws from dragging it around. You solved this in the only manner that made sense in cat-world – by launching yourself at Sirius, effectively doubling his screeches within the second.

“Oi! Oi!” Sirius kept calling as you hopped onto his chest, burying your claws into him so he couldn’t simply shake you off, ink smearing all over Sirius’ previously white shirt. The assault of a lifetime, if you asked him. “Azkaban! Azkaban for all of you!” he called when he saw Regulus doubling over with laughter on the opposite end of the sofa.

“Pads! What’s going on, mate?” James’ voice called as he came half-running over after spotting the commotion the second he entered the common room. 

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but upon James spotting the feline devil currently attempting to smear more of the ink across his being, he interrupted with a coo. 

“Oh, hi there little Whiskers!” James greeted, bending down to pick you up by the neck. In that James-Potter-way he simply peeled you off of Sirius and held you out before him, just far enough that the ink wouldn’t get on him. “What’s got you in such a tizzy, huh?” he asked, poking at you with his free hand which earned him a petulant hiss.

“The bloody puma destroyed my essay and leaped at me,” Sirius huffed as he clambered back up, ignoring how he sounded like a first year telling on a classmate to McGonagall.

“I believe she is seeking revenge from that little stunt you two pulled earlier,” Remus drawled from his seat, sharing a look with Regulus who rolled his eyes. They knew.

“Which is fully within her right, I must add,” Regulus said, ever the devoted boyfriend. Bloody lucky you. “And she’s not a puma, you wanker, you’re just scared of cats.”

“Slander! ‘M not!” Sirius defended himself, but James ignored him, turning his attention to the cat wriggling in his grip.

“Did we upset you, little kitten?” James asked so friendly you almost wouldn’t catch the teasing in his tone. “So sorry. Next time we’ll hex your tie a different colour. Robe too, yeah?”

Upon receiving another hiss from you and a lunge of your paw, James outright giggled and petted the top of your head carefully, neutralising you if for but a moment.

“How come she’s forgiving you right away? I have had my property destroyed and was lightly maimed in her quest for revenge!” Sirius shook his head in disapproval, attempting to stare you down. It wasn't turning out to be fruitful.

“Sirius, I have a question for you.” Regulus didn’t continue until Sirius reluctantly met his gaze. “Did you know – and be honest with me now – that you’re a wizard?”

Before Sirius could give him a snarky response, Regulus had waved his wand casually over the ink pools on the table and stains on his clothes, cleaning both up effectively as if nothing had happened. Then he gave Sirius a smug smile that made him want to turn into Padfoot and lunge at him – which probably wasn’t a good idea given there were other people in the room.

“Imbécile grossier,” Sirius muttered under his breath as he kicked a leg out at Regulus, intended more for effect than harm.

He received a “connard stupide” in return as Regulus dodged any further assault by getting up and walking over to James, who was now fully petting the rabid killer, whispering something about “please forgive me, it was just too funny not to”. Traitor. 

“Hey there, amour,” Regulus said as he picked you up out of James’ arms. “Are you regretting marrying into the family?”

You made a huffing sound, climbing out of his arms to settle along his shoulders, over his neck, were you could cuddle against him while still scowling at Sirius.

“You and me both, sister,” Remus mumbled half-heartedly. Sirius gasped at him with every theatrical bone in his body, earning him an eye roll and – at last – for Remus to abandon the paper to give him a quick smooch.

“I didn’t realise sister-in-laws were allowed to be as sibling-y as an actual sister,” James mused as he folded his arms to take in the scene before him. 

“She’s not,” Sirius argued, extracting another eye roll from Remus who patted his thigh placatingly. “Cats are just evil.”

“You could always confront her as Pads, you know, level the playing field,” James suggested.

“Absolutely not.” Regulus turned around so his body was shielding the cat on his shoulders from the three boys. “Not that I doubt she would win against your clumsy self any day, but let’s not even go there.”

Sirius and James barked a laugh that was disturbingly similar while Remus shook his head. “Don’t worry Reg, the less time I can spend around kittens, the better,” Sirius said briskly, feeling emboldened by James’ presence. 

You poked your head around Regulus’ neck at that, so that the two of you could share a look. It’s always peculiar for Sirius to see how much understanding seems to pass between you two, especially when in different forms altogether. It's not something he expected for his baby brother and he feels his heart warm at the display – which he promptly pushes down to focus on the war currently playing out in Gryffindor.

As if you two reached an agreement through just that look, you butted your head against Regulus’ cheek while he nodded. Carefully, he manoeuvred you into his arms and plopped you down on the armrest of Remus’ chair, and disappeared from sight to a secluded corner of the common room.

“What in Merlin’s name just happened?” Sirius mused out loud, exchanging bemused glances with James who plopped down beside him.

“Oh, I’m sure it was nothing good.” Remus smiled through his words as he freed one of his hands to scratch under your chin, causing you to purr and brush your feline body closer to his arm. Sirius would be remiss if he didn’t think the sight of pure love between you two wasn’t adorable, but to hells if he would admit it before you two reached a truce. 

Your purring was interrupted as you let out a soft prrt! for seemingly no apparent reason, and reached up to give Remus’ cheek a soft cat kiss – that made the boy’s face crinkle into a smile – before jumping down onto the floor. There, Sirius saw the reason for your joy and felt his heart drop in his chest.

“Oh, hi, Shadow,” Remus greeted the black cat that made a beeline for you on the floor, brushing his body against yours with soft purrs. “Come to join in on your brother’s torment?”

“Absolutely not–” Sirius started, but before he could get up and out of his seat, both cats had jumped up onto his legs and made their way to his lap. “What are you guys doing? Get off?!”

James was giggling once more beside him and Sirius had half a mind to throw the cats at him and run away. Though, he was beginning to doubt whether he would be able to as he saw the determination in Regulus’ eyes.

“I believe they’re making you eat your words, love.” The smile in Remus’ voice was so evident that had he not been as handsome as he was, Sirius would have smacked him.

His arms were frozen at his sides, hands hovering in the air, unsure of where to go as he watched the two cats settle down in his lap in horror. Your bodies were horizontal with his and flush against each other’s, becoming liquid in the cuddle puddle you were currently creating.

Sirius tried hissing at you to no avail as Regulus only slapped him with his paw in response. He tried shifting slightly to push you off, but you buried your claws through the fabric of his trousers – Sirius would give Remus a run for his money as the scarred one of the group after you were finished with him. He tried looking to James and Remus for help, but neither boy were willing as they took far too much enjoyment in the show. Remus at least pretended not to as he “read”, but James was fully angled towards him to see the events unfold, shoulders shaking with mirth. 

A sigh escaped Sirius as he accepted his fate. “I hate you lot,” he said decisively. “Each and every one of you.”

Regulus made a noise that sounded like it was in disagreement with his statement while Remus just hummed. James nodded his head as if to say “fair”.

You, however, picked your head up from where it was resting over Regulus’ and just stared at Sirius. Usually he felt like he could read you quite well in feline form, which he assumed was due to some skills of Padfoot’s transferring over, but right now you were impossible to understand. You held his gaze head on, almost as if you were studying him, but your breaths were coming so slowly you had to be calm, right? Though this forced proximity was clearly a form of punishment, you were growing comfortable. Was he forgiven?

His train of thought was interrupted as the staring competition you had for a few seconds was interrupted – by you blinking. Slowly. Keeping your gaze on him but fully closing your eyes intermittently.

A slow grin spread across Sirius’ face.

He didn’t know a lot about cats and he principally disliked them. But he did know what that meant.

“Yeah, yeah, princess,” he mumbled as his cheeks almost grew a bit red. “You too.”

[foldingfittedsheets]

After a glorious hike through the beautiful redwoods we started making our way back to town.

Very shortly into the drive I went, “Well, I smell dog shit.”

“Do you want me to pull over?” My betrothed asked.

“It’s not gonna be less dog shit if we stop,” I said.

But after they sniffed nervously the seventh time I suggested they should just turn off.

We investigated our shoes and at first glance neither pair of boots was the offender. Then I squinted at my toe and scuffed it with a branch and found under the loam was a faint smear of poop.

I scraped it off and cleared my shoe but then we were both regarding my cars floor mat with dismay. There wasn’t actual poop on it but the odor had penetrated. We hauled the mat out and puzzled over how to deal with it. We could pour water on a napkin but it seemed like it would just scrub the smell in.

Then my betrothed said, “We’re in the forest! Hold the mat up!”

I held it against the tree while they beat it with a sprig of pine needles. It must have looked like two little witches cackling with laughter and casting spells to the cars driving along behind us.

We did our best with woodland magic but it’ll still need a better scrubbing later.

[put-me-through-the-wall]

All Bark, No Bite

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BodyGuard!Simon "Ghost" Riley x rich girl!reader

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: Simon takes on a job that may be more than he bargained for.

Content warnings: This story contains elements of intoxication, sexual assault, and violence. If you are not in the headspace to consume this content please scroll on.

A/N: Hello folks, I am kinda getting back into the swing of things. While working on another story this idea popped into my head and I had to get it down while the creativity was flowing. Pumped this bad boy out in one day so if it seems rushed I apologize. I just wanted to get it done tonight before I have to go back to work. As usual let me know what you think. If y'all like it I may do a part two. Thank you so much for all the support! Love you guys!

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At first Simon was irritated at such a small time job being given to someone with his expertise. Growing more resentful by the day as he prepares for his stay at your family's property. When he was offered a long term private security job he thought it would be more along the idea of escorting an important political figure or guarding an extremely dangerous weapon of mass destruction. He never thought he would see himself packing suits and nice shoes for a job.

He becomes a little less irritated when he is introduced to you. Seeing such a beautiful young woman greet him in the entryway of your dazzling family home he figures the next few months may not be so bad. Getting to watch a cute little thing like you all day stroll around the expansive acres of gardens and woodlands.

As he takes your delicate hand carefully in his own upon your first meeting. “Pleasure to meet you ma’am” making sure to use his best manners.

 You roll your eyes. "Why would I need a bodyguard?" you scoff to your father’s assistant, hardly bothering to make eye contact with Simon. 

Simon was taken aback by the rude attitude that mismatched with your sweet appearance. It is explained to you that now that you are going out on your own you need someone to make sure you're safe. After a huff you stomp off, thus beginning Simon’s first day. 

During your first night together he can see why he was requested for this job. As soon as the sun sets you're out the door without a word. Simon scrambles to catch up as you climb in the backseat of your private car. Slipping in just before the driver slams the door in his face.

"Oh my god, are you serious?" you look at him in shock. Scooting as far away from him as possible, pressing against the opposite car door, as if his very presence was an assault. "No way this is happening. You’re staying here,"

"Sorry ma'am. Just doin' my job," he firmly plants himself next to you and stares ahead. 

You huff and puff the whole drive to town. Complaining that he is going to ruin your night and scare away any man who approaches. Simon silently smiles under his mask at your bratty tone. 

When the car pulls up outside of a raging club you are quick to crawl over Simon's intruding frame and get out ahead of him. In your haste unintentionally flashing him a pretty view of your lace panties underneath your criminally short dress. 

You get a brisk pace once out of the vehicle, rushing past all the patrons and straight to the bouncer. Flashing him a smile and your ID he seems to already know you well and you walk past barely slowing down your pace.

The bounce is quick to halt Simon in his tracks though. Makes him stop to explain before reluctantly allowing him access.

When he step inside he is momentarily stunned by the pulsing colorful lights and pounding music. His height gives him an advantage as he scans the crowd of partygoers searching for you. You have managed to mix in with the sea of people while he was held up at the door. 

He pushes through to the bar, carelessly shoving away anyone in his path. Ignoring the excuse you's and angry swears tossed his way. He eventually finds you, sparkling in your rhinestone covered dress leaned provocatively against the bar trying to get the bartender's attention. He watches you bat your eyelashes and cross your arms under your breasts. Proudly showing off to anyone who would look your way. 

When you feel the large presence behind you, you look over your shoulder with flirty eyes until you realize who it is. "God, take a hint," you shout over the loud music. You turn back to the bar and bang your hand on the counter top, "Hey! can I please get a drink!" 

The bartender finally steps over. "What will it be tonight?" he greets you smugly with a knowing grin.

"Hm surprise me," you counter with a sweet smile.

He mixes a colorful drink and pours it into a martini glass before sliding it over to you. You hand over your gilded credit card, "Keep it open," you wink. You spin around while taking a sip of your drink, almost bumping into Simon.

"Look, if you're going to hang around all night you need to give me room to breathe at least." You shove your hand into his chest and push him away harshly. Though, frustratingly, he hardly budges. 

Simon suppresses the urge to grab your little wrist in his crushing grip and show you how to be respectful to others. Instead he stares down at you refusing to break your annoyed stare. He can tell you're used to people shrinking away under your gaze.

You quirk in an eyebrow and humorlessly chuckle before breezing past him and onto the dance floor. You maneuver into the crowd up towards the DJ. Simon keeps his distance for now allowing you to dance freely under his watchful eye. He finds a high table in an unlit corner of the club at the edge of the crowd. 

You move to the pulse of the music. Swaying your hips loosely, the jewels of your dress reflecting the passing lights. You spin and twist like a human embodiment of a disco ball in the center of the dance floor. Your free hand trails down your body sensually as you mouth the words to the song playing. You are carefree as you sip your drink quickly extinguishing its contents. 

It's not long until a stranger approaches you from behind. Both hands coming around you to pull your hips into them. You smile and move along with them. The man ducks his head down and whispers into your ear causing you to giggle. 

Simon hates watching this stranger run his hands along your perfect body. Smelling your perfume and touching your hot, soft skin. He knows the stranger only wants you for one reason and it angers him to watch. Simon feels a fury building inside of him but he stays put, not wanting to make a scene just yet. Waiting to see how far the exchange will go. 

The man's hand slides up your waist,  brushing the underside of your breasts. You don't seem to mind as you continue dancing, closing your eyes and bringing one of your hands up to hold onto the back of his neck and running your fingers through his hair. 

After a few songs together and several more drinks the man is now kissing up your neck and fully groping your body. The movements are growing more heated by the second. He whispers in your ear again and you bite your lip in response. You look through the crowd until through the wall bobbing heads your eyes find Simon's through the busy crowd. Your playful smile drops when he raises his hand to wave at you letting you know he is still here and still watching, much to your discontent. 

You spin around to meet the stranger face to face. Your movements have become sloppy and uncoordinated with the amount of alcohol in your system. You pull him down by his shirt so you can mumble in his ear once more. He smiles and grabs your hand quickly pulling you in the opposite direction. You nearly trip over your own feet following him. You look back at Simon and wave back sarcastically with a wink before disappearing in the crowd of dancing bodies. 

Simon makes a beeline towards you but by the time he breaks through the congestion of people you are nowhere in sight. He walks along the perimeter of the room not seeing you at the bar or sitting in the lounge area. He grows frantic in his search scanning for you but finding nothing. 

He find his way to a hazy corridor lit by strips of red lights along the ceiling. The walls lined with couples making out or smoking in the cramped passageway. He breaks apart a few offended couples to make sure it wasn't you. He can’t believe he agreed to do this shit. Chasing around a spoiled rich brat was not the job he signed up for. 

He reaches the exit door at the end of the hallway. He pushes through to reveal the dim city alleyway. Worn brick walls scattered with graffiti are lined with trash cans and dumpsters. He steps down from the stoop to the concrete ground littered with garbage. He looks back and forth, seeing no signs of life besides a few roaches scattering underneath an old can. He is about to head back inside for another look when a nearby noise catches his attention. 

He freezes in place until he hears more shuffling and soft mumblings. He steps quietly down the alley. Walking past one of the large dumpsters he locates the origin of the sounds. Finally finding you. You’re pressed against the side of the dumpster along with the stranger. 

The man's hand covers your mouth and his other freely roams your body, dipping underneath the hem of your dress. You whimper out weakly trying to push him off with no avail. Your unfocused eyes widen when you see Simon walking towards you. Your muffled protests grow more persistent as you plead for help. "I said shut up, bitch," the stranger hisses.

Simon’s brain short circuits at the sight before him. It all goes red. He wastes no time snatching up the back of man's jacket and yanking him off of you. Without the man holding you up, you fall back against the metal side of the dumpster. Weak legs unable to hold you up as you crumple to the dirty floor. 

Simon pushes the man to the other side of the alley and into the wall. Immediately bashing his shocked expression with several punches and he holds him in place by the collar. The man grunts out in pain with each hit, his cheekbone and eye socket swelling from the abuse almost instantly. 

"You like taking advantage of girls?" Simon questions dangerously. His voice came out as more of a growl before continuing his assault. “Piece o' shit. I’ll fucking kill you,”

In between punches the man attempts to put his hands up in dense, "I'm sorry man! I-I didn't know she was yours" the words quickly tumble from his bloody lips. 

Only infuriating Simon further he pulls his pistol from his concealed holster on his back. He grabs the side of the man's jaw harshly until his mouth is forced open. He shoves the barrel into the man's mouth. “I should blow your bloody brain out. That’s what I like. Killing sick fuck’s like you. Would you like that, mate?” He cocks his head in question. 

The man shakes his head urgently. Simon shoves the barrel further into his mouth, completely stretching the man's mouth open to fit the intruding cool steel. “It doesn’t feel good, does it? Being forced to take it, huh?” 

The man shakes his head again looking to be on the edge of tears. Simon removes the pistol from his mouth “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me” the man whimpers. Simon pulls the man off the wall and pushes him towards you, gun now pressed to the back of his head. 

“Don’t say sorry to me, say sorry to her” Simon demands

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I thought-” The man is cut off when Simon hits him in the back of the head with the handle of his pistol. 

“You thought nothin’. Just say you’re bloody sorry” He grits out. 

“I’m sorry” the man cries. 

Satisfied that the man has had enough punishment for now Simon reholsters his weapon and leans until he is only inches away from the man’s face. Simon’s crazed eyes darted across the man’s face. “If I ever see you again, you are dead. Yeah?” Simon's voice now scarily calm. The man nods frantically. Simon nods in return then shoves the man backwards. 

He falls back onto the dirty concrete ground roughly. He scrambles back up to his feet and bolts out of the alley way.  

Finally Simon turns his attention back to you. On your hands and knees sniffling as you gather several of your items that spilled out of your dropped purse. 

Simon quickly kneels down to meet you. "You alright?" you shake your head and look up to him pitifully. Your makeup is now smeared down your cheeks. Your hair hangs messily around your face. 

"He broke my purse," your words coming out slurred and whiney. 

Simon's heart pangs with sympathy as you hold up your sparkling purse to show its broken strap. 

"S' alright, we'll get you a new one," he gently takes your hands and brings you to your feet. He adjusts your dress for you, pulling down its hem to cover more of your exposed thighs and push your fallen strap back on your shoulder. As his hand brushes the exposed skin you shiver causing your skin to erupt into goosebumps. You hold your arms against your chest to combat the chilly evening air.

“He told me he just wanted to talk somewhere quieter. I-I didn’t even realize wha-” 

“Shh, S’ gonna be okay. You don’t need to explain. I know.” Simon takes off his large coat and puts it over your shoulders, pulling it tight around you so you are totally swallowed by its dense material.

"Can we go home?" you ask shakily.

"Course, ma'am" his hand comes around your shoulders to usher you out of the alley way. You wobble when you try to walk. Simon catches you as your legs start to buckle beneath you.

Without a second though Simon scoops you up in his strong arms. He is surprised at your lack of protest. You drop your head onto his shoulder as a few tears continue bleeding into the fabric of his shirt. You mumble watery apologies, half of the words lost as incoherent slurs.

"Don't need to apologize. Just doing my job, ma'am," Simon steps out to the road and sees your car parked and waiting just across the road. The driver hops out and opens the door for him. 

Simon carefully places you down on the seat before ducking into the car himself. When he sits you scoot closer and drop your head to lean on his bicep. Your arms wrap around his forearm, finger dancing across his skin tracing the veins down to his hand. You gasp when your blurry vision focuses on his bloody knuckles.

“Oh my god” you mumble.

“M’ alright ma’am. I’ve had much worse.” Simon reassures you. He looks down to see you already gazing up at him. Even with your disheveled appearance he can't help but think how effortlessly beautiful you are.

"You don't need to call me ma'am," you chuckle and rub your damp eyes, smudging your makeup further. 

"What would you like me to call you?" he asks. He brushes away a stand of hair in front of your eyes, tucking it behind your ear. 

"Don't know, what do I look like?" 

Simon takes a minute to ponder. He watches as the passing streetlights cast a fleeting light into the window of the backseat. The yellow beams illuminating across each rhinestone on your shimmering dress peeking out from underneath his jacket. Your diamond earrings and necklace frame your face, matching the rest of your glittering outfit. Simon thinks they are nothing compared to the sparkle in your big round eyes. Then he wonders when he becoming such a hopeless sap. He wonders if you will even remember this in the morning.

All that fuss and harsh words from you earlier now a distant memory as you lean against his side. You were wrapping around his arms in a vice. Legs curled up under you, one of your heels had fallen to the floor of the car. You look up at him expectantly still waiting for an answer. 

"You look like a princess,"

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[alienssstufff]

MISSING PERSONS ARTICLE (5/10/ NULL):

An extract from a local article published by The Weekly Hermit on the 5th of October (Year: NULL). Covered by Pixlriffs [Pen Name] –DISAPPEARING ACT, The Bachelor Who Vanished In Thin Air

[MEMORY : 1/2 ] [MEMORY : 2/2 - HERE]

>[READ ARTICLE?]

They were young and unafraid, Joel [LASTNAME] alongside friend Scar [LASTNAME] would venture on a hiking trip around the mountains only to vanish without a trace.

With the Joel engaged and set to be married to the current head of the Fairy Fort Resort ranger Lizzie [LASTNAME], accounts state that him along with best man Scar were last seen on the 22nd of September in the safety of Hiker’s Checkpoint, a popular camping destination of the Last Life woodlands.

“He said it was supposed to be an ‘act of bravery’. He wanted to prove he was strong to me.” A distraught Lizzie recounts. 

“I knew Scar was acting rather off the last few weeks, but I never expected he would just.. Up and run away like this. Especially with someone as inexperienced to hiking as Joel – I didn’t think they would go this far!” witness and former roommate of Scar, Grian, relays to the press.

Further interviews with the witnesses on the day of the disappearance recount in agreeance to meet the two at the Fairy Fort Reserve, a small group had held an early-morning farewell bachelor party at the Hiker’s Checkpoint, where the two would begin their 3-day trip along the marked Mycelium Trail to the wedding venue on the 25th of October.

Joel was last seen wearing a thick brown sheepskin sweater, brown pants, and worn white-and-green running shoes - with his most noticeable feature being green, dyed highlights in his hair. Scar was last seen donning a brown aviator's jacket above a black, multi-purpose utility jacket and white plaid flannel with blue cargo pants - most noticeable feature being the green bandanna found at the checkpoint.

Prior background given by loved ones and witnesses of the party reveal that the wellbeing of Joel, a novice hiker, would still be under the guidance of friend Scar who is reported to have years of experience of hiking both within and beyond the hiking trails of the woodlands. 

Reports to the authorities of their disappearance were made just 24-hours past the expected date by the Fairy Fort Reserve and the duo would be officially declared missing on the 28th of September. Several smaller search parties made within the FFR, Lizzie admits, were held prior to making the decision on contact around the reserve and the Hiker’s Checkpoint. A larger, more extensive investigation along the Mycelium Trail was held from the 28th onwards as more people volunteered and potential witnesses were questioned.

The Mycelium Trail is a relatively accessible route for both man and off-road vehicles to traverse between various locations in the Last Life woodlands. While recordings of the weather at this time of year had been colder than usual, there had been no signs of snow, rainfall or forest fires that would hinder the mens’ trip. 

A total of 78 individuals have participated in the search for our runaway bachelor and avid adventure-lover with little succession as damp footprints of the missing, Scar’s green bandanna,  a set of binoculars belonging to Scar, and two discarded lighters and canteens found within the bounds of the Hiker’s Checkpoint. 

Suspect of foul play between the men were brought up in questioning but was avidly rejected by witnesses and investigators for lack of motive even considering Grian’s accounts on Scar’s unusual behavior. Further theories relating to mentions of exploring the nearby Magical Mt were also suspect and a smaller search party made closer to the foot of the mountain was conducted to no avail due to the frigid weather. Urgencies from Lizzie to authorities in further investigation within the mountain were set forth and ultimately rejected due to windy weather and unstable, difficult-to-cross terrain.

As of current release, the status of Joel and Scar remains unknown. For information leading to the safe return of Joel [LASTNAME] and Scar [LASTNAME] please contact [NUMBER REMOVED] at the Fairy Fort Reserve investigation team.

>[ARTICLE ENDS HERE]

[cuffmeinblack]

Career Perks

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader (Ominis pov with she/her)

Tags: explicit | dark!Ominis | rough sex | dub-con | parseltongue | legilimency

3k words. Accompanying audio.

Summary: Ominis' career leaves little room for excitement or challenge, but his unique brand of legilimency makes for a more interesting job when he finds himself in the company of a lonely witch.

A/n: This is a sort-of sequel to Legilimens where his skill has made him bitter and jaded. Also just random stalking and hunting for shits and giggles I guess.

Ominis enjoyed his job as much as the next wizard, but lately he felt…unchallenged. Most of his clients were small businesses and affluent households who required some extra security on their properties, meaning Ominis would throw up the same wards and shields he did day in, day out, every day. Rarely did he sink his teeth into anything different, a large event or complex case. Whilst the staleness of his chosen career could be somewhat disappointing at times, his job did have certain perks. He'd made his own entertainment over the years, honing other skills amongst the drudgery.

His unique brand of legilimency came in useful, though years of hearing others' thoughts, whether intentionally or not, had made him somewhat jaded. He'd learned early on that most people were liars, the words they uttered in direct contrast to their judgemental thoughts. To his shock, he'd also found that the most common thoughts that seeped into his were of the more amorous kind. With years of practice, he found himself less likely to accidentally probe someone else's mind when concentrating on their voice, but sometimes the lure was too strong to resist dipping his toe into the murky waters of their consciousness.

Ominis had arrived at his most recent client's manor with the intention of keeping his curiosity behind lock and key—it had been causing too much trouble of late. The wizard who had hired him was influential; a politician with a good family name and heaps of ill-gotten gold lining his pockets. He'd paid upfront, requesting the very best magical protection and citing a need to protect his family; from what, he didn't venture, but Ominis had been in this game long enough to make an educated guess that he'd gotten mixed up with the wrong sort. He even wondered whether his dear brother was somehow involved.

The manor was an impressive building with gardens and woodland surrounding it, and very isolated. His smart shoes crunched along the gravel path as he approached, his wand making him aware of the vastness of his surroundings. He'd expected a servant, perhaps a house elf to answer the door when he rang the bell, but instead he was greeted warmly by a woman who's tone and well-spoken manner indicated her status as lady of the household.

"Mr Gaunt, hello. Please come in."

Ominis gave his best smile, the one he knew would charm her and put her at ease. Walking into the hallway, the echo of the hard floor underneath his heels pointed to the grandiosity of the estate. No doubt it was lavishly decorated by the woman standing next to him.

"Thank you," Ominis replied with a dip of his head.

"My husband is away on business but I can direct you to anywhere you need to go," she said sweetly. "Would you like a cup of tea whilst you work?"

Well, he was never one to turn down tea.

"Yes, please. I'll start on the external wards."

She departed, heels clicking and dress swishing, leaving Ominis alone with his thoughts. His wand was already out, so he started the basic defensive spells…Muggle repelling charm…intruder charm… The mundanity was interrupted by the return of his host. The waft of tea hit his nose and he perked up as he noticed the Darjeeling blend amongst the clattering of china.

"Do you not have a house elf?"

"No, I don't agree with keeping a…slave," she replied, somewhat bitterly.

Curious.

"So you take on all of the domestic tasks by yourself? It can't be an easy feat," he replied, gesturing to the house.

"Unfortunately, yes. I never intended for this to be my life."

Ominis suppressed a smirk; that would have been inappropriate, of course. These trapped housewitches were often the product of bad decisions and unhappy marriages. He sipped his tea as he heard her do the same, using the distraction to concentrate on the sound of her gentle slurping. There she was. She had a powerful magical aura, wasted in a place like this. Ominis reached out, finding her thoughts laid bare, ripe for perusing—she clearly hadn't expected his invasion, her guard was down, as they always were.

"Lovely tea," he commented.

"Thank you, I make my own blend."

Of course you do. The thoughts at the forefront of her mind were nothing to do with the beverage, in fact they were nothing short of scandalous. Oh, these housewitches had such lewd fantasies. She knew exactly who he was, and her daydreams reflected her particular wants. The wet slaps that filled his mind and her salacious moans were rather distracting, but Ominis continued to sip his tea and nod along to her occasional commentary. Every whispered command that he uttered in her mind had her keening, and the twitch in his trousers was a very real consequence.

"The wards are done," he said, draining the last of his drink and placing it on the table beside him. "Nobody can get in or out until I lift them. Not you, nor your husband."

The last few words were laced with insinuation, and her fantasy ended abruptly, her thoughts scrambling and fearful.

"Wha-?"

Ominis moved quickly, his body pressing her into the table behind her, hand around her neck as her teacup fell to the floor with a crash of breaking china. Her hand went to her wand, but Ominis had already thrown it to the floor.

"This is what you wanted, wasn't it?" he asked.

"He's going to kill me," her first thought.

"I won't hurt you, not if you do as I say. If you obey me, I'll give you exactly what you want."

"Why…?" she whispered weakly, and Ominis loosened the grip on her throat.

"Because I've heard your thoughts, and I'm most curious…," he whispered into her ear.

She could have used his slackened grip to attempt to break free, but she didn't, only writhed between his body and the furniture behind her. Her pulse pounded against his fingers and warm, hastened breath brushed his cheek, prompting a dark surge of hunger and a throbbing swell of his cock.

"Take me," her second thought.

Ominis cast a silent summoning charm on her wand, tucking it into his unused holster.

"Run."

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me."

The second teacup crashed to the floor as Ominis relented his grasp around her neck and she fell back against the table. She scrambled, and he listened to her frantic footfalls as she ran, her terrified thoughts fading as the connection to her mind broke. She seemed to be unsure just what his intentions were, but the faint flicker of excitement told him all he needed to know about this particular witch.

"Homenum Revelio."

Ominis muttered the incantation, his wand guiding him in her vague direction. He walked quickly, but she really had nowhere to go as long as his charms held. She was fast, always moving along the winding corridors that made up the large manor house. So many bedrooms and drawing rooms, and nowhere to hide.

Ominis concentrated once again on the creak of the floorboards and receding footsteps in front of him until he found her. She was too far away to be able to use his legilimency, but now he'd probed her mind once before, her presence stuck out like a sore thumb—it was almost another sense, like a familiar scent that he could follow. His heart raced as he stalked through the house, adrenaline pumping, providing the excitement that his job couldn't.

"I've heard what you want me to do to you," Ominis called.

No reply.

"Tell me—do you kiss your husband with that mouth? The obscenities that spilled from it shocked even me, and I'm far from chaste."

Ominis threw up more detection charms, getting closer as she slowed—intentionally, he was sure. His ears remained pricked for any movement, when he heard her inhale before shouting an incantation.

"Expelliarmus!"

Ominis shielded himself just in time, her wandless but nevertheless powerful spell glancing off the protective sphere. There was the feisty witch he'd sensed below the delicate façade. A devilish grin crossed his face as she broke into a run again and he followed. The slam and click of a door up ahead echoed through the hallway, and Ominis smirked through heavy breaths. He knocked on the door, the gesture absurd, but it got her attention.

"Leave, and I'll not tell anyone about this."

Ominis pressed his ear against the wood, his fingers sliding around the door knob as he held his wand steady.

"I don't think you want me to leave," he replied, unlocking the door with but a simple unlocking charm.

He'd half expected a barrage of wandless magic aimed at him, but then again he'd half expected not. She was waiting, silently, except the ragged breaths that filled the large room. Ominis kept a shield up, but his wand sensed no danger from the situation.

"Is this your bedroom?" he asked.

"Yes," came her breathy voice.

He dropped his shield and walked towards her, following the sound and reaching out with his mind once again.

"You led me here."

She remained quiet, but she confirmed it for him anyway. Into her mind he delved again, not bothering to be careful or inconspicuous as he waded through her present jumbled thoughts and tore into her memories. He saw every bad decision ever made, the regret and longing of a woman trapped, walking in the shadow of a man utterly undeserving of her.

"You want me to take you here, where your husband sleeps? Of all the rooms in this vast house?" he asked, his fingers finally making contact with her.

She hadn't attempted to conceal the reason she'd stopped running. Knelt at the foot of the bed, she let his hands roam over her lightly-clothed shoulder, the delicate silk blouse leaving every curve free to caress. She gasped as he once again skimmed her neck, his hand continuing its journey to her face. Her lips were plump, and as his thumb brushed against them he felt her warm breath that stuttered as he started to unbuckle his belt.

His digit parted her lips, slipping inside her warm and inviting mouth as she sighed and allowed the invasion. His cock twitched again in anticipation of filling her mouth, his barely disguised arousal springing free from his trousers as the last of the fastenings fell away.

"Open your mouth for me, darling," Ominis whispered.

She did as she was told, her hands tentatively gripping his thighs as Ominis felt her jaw slacken against his fingers. He muttered a praise as he lined himself up with her inviting lips, pushing the tip of his cock inside her waiting mouth. Perfect. Her tongue eagerly met him with a swirl around his head and he groaned, lacing his fingers through her soft hair that he just now realised hung loose and smelled pleasantly of vanilla.

He tightened his grip as she took more of him, guiding her head with a rhythm that sent his head spinning. Though muffled, her moans filled his ears amongst the sounds of her exuberant sucking. She felt fantastic, a little sloppy perhaps, but she more than made up for it with her enthusiasm. Whether or not the enthusiasm was genuine or a product of his threat, he didn't much care.

Ominis sighed softly as her head bobbed back and forth, deciding to move along to what she'd really wanted from him. He pulled her hair back a little harder than was necessary, her mouth popping off his length and causing a yelp of pain. A rush of affirmation flooded her thoughts, spilling into Ominis' as his control over his legilimency weakened, and he smirked down at her before lowering his head to meet her in a greedy kiss. Her tongue met his, firm and demanding, the taste of tea still lingering.

"Such a lovely mouth," Ominis praised as they parted, relinquishing the hold on her hair. "Now, strip."

"What are you going to do?" she asked shakily over the rustle of fabric.

"Exactly what you wanted of me the moment I stepped through that door."

Ominis stroked her face gently as she undressed, and when she wriggled out of her underwear he got to work on ridding himself of his own bottoms. His pulse raced and cock throbbed with need, desperately wanting to hear her keening again, flooding his ears and not just his mind.

"How do I compare to your filthy thoughts?" he asked, pushing her back onto the bed.

"You're…better. Much better," she sighed.

He positioned himself between her legs, running his hands over her soft skin pricked with goosebumps and towards his prize. She was already squirming by the time he pressed his fingers to her entrance, dipping a digit inside the well of slick arousal.

"Such a naughty witch."

She whimpered, her walls fluttering around his finger, pulling an amused chuckle from his throat. Retreating slightly, he dragged his finger between her folds and found her swollen clit, eliciting another pathetic whine as he began rubbing circles around the nub.

"You really are so needy," Ominis chided. "How long since you've been touched?"

"A while," she replied meekly. "Fuck…"

"There's that filthy mouth I've heard."

Ominis moved his hand faster, listening to her sweet moans as his hips instinctively rocked, his erection rubbing on the bed sheet and providing barely enough relief. He couldn't control his urges forever, and his patience was wearing thinner by the second, no matter how lovely the noises she made. His fingers left her clit to a protesting whine, delving back into her soaking wet entrance.

"P-please don't stop."

"Ah, no, I'm afraid your fantasies were quite specific about how you wanted to come undone."

Ominis pumped his hand, rougher than was needed as his lust threatened to overcome his waning self restraint. Once he slipped a third finger inside her, he knelt up on the mattress before withdrawing his hand and dragging her along the sheets by her thighs towards him.

"Shit!"

He was frenzied, rock hard and aching for her cunt. With no more than a flick over her clit with the tip of his cock as warning, he pushed inside her to the sound of her wails and the sting of nails scraping down his back. Ominis growled his feigned disapproval, seating himself deep inside her as his head dipped to the crook of her neck and kissed up towards her ear. He started thrusting, and his breath almost deserted him.

She felt incredible, as if she were made for him, and the way she gripped him felt as if she were clinging onto him with the intention of never letting go. Ominis moaned and muttered praises in her ear as a string of expletives dripped from her lips with every roll of his hips.

"Harder, fuck!"

"So needy," Ominis said, though what left his mouth was a high pitched hiss that made her wail and scream his name.

That's what she'd wanted, in her sick little fantasy of being ruined by the heir of Slytherin. Not a particularly inventive one, but he was happy to indulge when the product was such a beautiful cacophony of moans. He continued whispering parseltongue against her neck as he attacked her skin with his teeth and hands groped greedily at every soft handful of flesh he could reach. Her curves were truly delicious, and the smack he delivered to her backside as she drew her legs up reverberated around the huge room and only spurred him on. Faster and harder he fucked her, until she was practically hysterical.

The way she gripped his cock, he knew she was close and his own release was imminent. His arms shook as he lifted himself, kneeling above her and gripping her waist to pull her down deeper onto his cock. Ominis moaned as the tension built to unbearable levels, still continuing to pound into her relentlessly in the new position.

"Oh shit…oh fuck…"

She could only manage garbled words and to dig her fingers painfully into his thighs as her body turned limp. Ominis placed a hand on her abdomen, groaning as he felt his cock hitting her deep under his palm.

"Come for me," Ominis hissed, unable to hold back his own release any longer.

He wasn't sure who succumbed first, but as Ominis let his load spill inside her, he felt her contract around his length, teasing out ropes of cum with every pulse of her orgasm. They sighed and moaned together, his thrusts slowing and eventually dying as they came off their highs and the pleasure made way for the realisation of what had occurred.

Ominis' face fell back into neutrality, pulling his flaccid cock from her with a squelch. He worked quickly, scooping up his wand and cleaning the mess before redressing and throwing her wand from his holster into the bed.

"Was that okay?" she spluttered.

He almost laughed, that she were so eager to secure his approval after what he'd put her through.

"Get showered and dressed. I'll wait."

She mumbled something incoherent but slid off the bed and padded to the ensuite bathroom. Ominis heard the lock of the door and running water, only just disguising the soft sobs emanating from the room. He had no time to fuss over her emotional wellbeing, he had work to do—with careful and deliberate flicks of his wand, he removed the wards that trapped her in the house, recasting the protective enchantments just as he'd been requested to do. He even made the bed.

By the time she'd returned to the bedroom, he told her to dry her hair and make sure she was properly presented, not using the exact words to ask her to stop crying. In silence he led her back to the hallway where the shattered teacups lay, fixed with a simple Reparo. There could be nothing left out of the ordinary.

"What should we do now…," she directed towards him, unease in her voice.

She was panicking. Ominis didn't give her time to finish her sentence, pointing his wand at her and twisting his wrist slowly in the air.

"Obliviate."

[whiskeynwriting]

The Babymoon

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

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Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Brief mention of reader’s hair (Jack just brushing it aside), established relationship/marriage, pregnant reader, dirty talk, aggressively passionate Jack (I’m W E T), degradation/teasing, breeding kink, daddy kink (ofc), spit kink, rough sex, choking, biting, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, and some fluffies

◆

A/N: I apologize for the late post but ya girl has the stomach flu y’all 

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Every small grunt forces a ping of guilt through your husband’s gut, both hands working tirelessly to relieve your pain. Truly, he didn’t know the walk would be so rigorous for you, but he should’ve known, should’ve researched more before coming out. But he does his best to make the situation better; he carried all of the bags, both yours and his, set them down in their appropriate rooms and then rushed back to tend to you. Jack led you over to the couch, letting you lay out while he removed your socks and shoes.

“I’m sorry, sugar.” He mumbled, removing his hat while kneeling down. “Didn’t realize it was such a long hike.”

“It’s okay.” Came your sigh of reassurance, head tilted back. “It was worth it.”

And that made him incredibly happy, forcing that handsome smile right across his face. What you said was true, too, coming here was definitely worth it. With Jack’s busy work schedule, and you constantly prepping for the baby, the two of you needed a break, especially before your newborn gets here. And that’s exactly what this trip was intended for. Some time away to relax, reset, and enjoy each other’s presence. 

Jack’s lips find their way to your ankles and calves, fingers massaging your sore feet. He didn’t mind doing this for you, did it almost every night, in fact. It became routine for him quite quickly; he could never not care for you. But thankfully, most of the more aggressive symptoms have subsided alongside the beginning of your third trimester. No more intense nausea or bloating, no more awful heartburn. The worst of your troubles have been general muscle aches and pelvic pain, but you’d take that over vomit any day.

“I can feel him kicking.” A sudden laugh comes from your throat, both hands falling to your belly. 

Jack grins, reaching up with one of his own hands. “He’s a wild one, in there.” 

“You… you think it’ll really change?” All Jack does is look up with confused concern. “Our lives, the way we are, when he comes.” 

His casual shrug serves as minimal reassurance. Glancing back down at your feet, Jack clears his throat. “Sure it will, babycakes. But not in a bad way.”

“How do you know it won’t be in a bad way?”

“Because I won't let it be that way.” Chocolate eyes meet yours once again, full of warmth and kindness. “Don’t worry so much, honey. We’re on vacation.” And with that, he’s standing, leaning over to kiss your forehead. “Let me go make you a drink.” 

And in this brief lull, you let out a relaxed breath, feeling at ease in Jack’s care. He’d always been such an attentive man, an attentive partner, able to identify and tend to your wants and needs before you even knew what they were. Being observant was in his nature, and branched into every area of his life, even now. 

“Here you go, sugar.” Handing you the drink with a smile on his face, Jack turns toward the fireplace, taking it upon himself to light it. 

It’s easy to admire him, not only for his incredibly handsome features, but for his wonderfully doting personality. He takes care of you, in every sense of the word. You’ve never felt safe before, like you do with him. 

Although the walk up to the cabin was laborious, he’s still glad he chose it. Perfectly secluded and quiet, up in the Kentucky mountains. The entire estate is surrounded by woodland brush and gentle creatures, deers and rabbits and birds. The surrounding peace is everything the two of you have been craving, a place to relax and reconnect. Your travels happened later in the evening, though, the night sky already beginning to grow. And with the stars peeking out from behind the clouds, and Jack lighting the fireplace, the entire situation seemed all too familiar. 

“You know…” Looking over at Jack, he stands, briefly clapping the dust from his hands. “This kind of reminds me of our honeymoon.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, flashing you that dazzling grin. And then he shrugs, walking over to you. “That was kinda the point.” 

Romantic, warm, and beautiful, qualities that mirror both your relationship and post-wedding vacation. It still makes you grin, still makes butterflies erupt inside your belly that Jack is willing to do all of this for you. 

“Wanna spoil you, angel.” Jack then hums, brushing aside some hair so he can get to your neck. And then he’s placing a single, sweet kiss, smiling. “How’re you feelin’, hm? Sore? Anything I can do?” 

The mention of your honeymoon has his insides stirring, his mischievous nature growing. Alongside these playful emotions comes the presence of Jack’s hand on your thigh, warm even through the material of your pants. He rubs you firmly, giving the plush fat of your legs a slow squeeze. 

Spoiling you is genuinely Jack’s pleasure, and he does it because he loves you; and this trait grew tenfold when you decided to carry his baby. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t use these situations for his own satisfaction, too. Watching your body grow makes his entire body run hot, your soft and squishy thighs, your round belly and perfectly plump backside. And Jesus Christ, your tits, he never thought they could get any more enticing before you got pregnant. But now? So swollen with your nipples all sensitive and red… he can’t keep himself away. He just can’t, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to on your private getaway. 

The slightest, most timid smirk forms on your face, eyes choosing to look away. “Well… you already took care of my feet.” Something in you says that Jack is looking for an excuse, for any simple reason to touch your body, massage it and just feel every inch of it that he can.

“Yeah?” He responds, chestnut orbs traveling down your figure. “What about your legs?”

“They’re fine, not too sore.” Shrugging, you do your best to suppress your laugh. Sometimes, teasing Jack was fun. 

Raising a brow, he then asks, “Your hips? Stomach?” Now, he’s running his palm over your swollen belly, chest inhaling a deep breath. Nothing about pregnancy turned him on before, not until he saw you carrying his child. Who knew Jack Daniels had a breeding kink? 

“Nope.” Finally turning to face him, you smile innocently. “I’m okay, baby.” 

The look on your face is kind and calm, but the twinkle in your eye tells him you’re only playing. And his own expression is growing stern, contemplating his next move. 

“You don’t seem to get it, do you?” 

“Get what?”

And in one quick motion, Jack’s hand rises to grab harshly at your chest, squeezing one breast in hand. It makes you gasp, makes your body jump with surprise. 

“Daddy wants to touch you, sugar.” In an instant, he’s closer, breathing heavier against you. “Daddy wants to touch your sweet body and watch you fall apart in his arms.” 

With an exasperated sigh, he’s then falling to your neck, sucking on it with wet lips. His sudden advance has your jaw dropping, lips curling up at the ends. Keeping his hand on your chest, his fingers press into your skin, massaging your tit before collecting his fingers so he can toy with your nipple.

“Jack,” Comes your simple sigh, head falling back.

“I know,” He says, mouthing at your neck. “It feels so good for you, honey.”

His mouth moves to your jawline, licking it, nipping at it, while brushing his thumb across the point of your breast. Even the slightest bit of friction made them hard, whether it be a small breeze or the soft fabric of your shirt. They’d never been more sensitive, and Jack had never been more interested. 

“You know I wanna touch you,” Jack mumbles over your skin, hand dropping to your legs. “Fuckin’ tease.” 

Cupping you between your thighs pulls a full moan from your throat, head lifting just in time to see him lean into your chest. Jack buries his face into you, right between your smooth mounds while his tongue dips into your cleavage. 

“Oh, god, I want this, sugar.” Though, you can barely hear him with his face stuffed between your tits. Lifting both hands, you encourage him, holding him there by the back of his head. 

“Daddy,” Two fingers rub firm circles over your covered center, your husband groaning quietly when you grab onto his hair. 

“Let me do this, baby doll.” 

Nodding rapidly, you gulp. “Okay, daddy. Okay…” 

Moving away from you with a swift inhale, Jack lifts himself from your body. Already, his pupils are blown, his pants tented firmly against your thigh. And for a brief second, you laugh. The two of you haven’t even been here for more than thirty minutes and he’s already trying to get into your pants. 

“Gorgeous fuckin’ thing.” The praise makes you flush and he knows it, making his way down so he can kneel between your legs. “Get these off, sugar.” And even though he says it like a command, he does it for you, undoing your jeans and yanking them down your legs. The help you offer is brief, a simple lift of your hips. But then you’re falling back down and watching him spread your legs. 

“Yeah… this is what I wanna see.” With his gaze focused on your center, Jack groans, tongue poking out to lick his lower lip. “Already leakin’ through your panties…”

In an experimental act, he reaches out, finger swiping over the very center of the delicate cloth. It’s damp, the middle darkened from your wetness. And that makes him grin, makes him fucking throb in his pants. 

“You know it, don’t you?” He asks before leaning forward and stuffing his face between your thighs. Again, it takes you by surprise, forcing your legs wider while that curved nose of his nuzzles its way into your crotch. And then, he’s inhaling, hot mouth opening to taste you through your panties.

“D-Daddy,” This time, it comes out as a whine, one hand fisting his hair while the other grabs hold of the couch. 

“Ugh,” Lifting himself just enough for you to hear, he says, “Know just how fuckin’ good you taste.” Reaching forward, Jack hooks two fingers around your panties before pulling them aside. And then his tongue is laying out, flattening it to give your cunt one firm, wet swipe. 

“Fuck,” Puffing out a harsh breath, your eyes are fluttering shut, feeling the firm shove of his tongue. 

“Get so goddamn wet like this, babycakes.” He notes, mouthing at your clit. Lifting a hand, he grabs onto your hip, urging you to sit back and lift your pelvis up a bit. It gives him better access, after all. “Been a goddamn fountain since I got you pregnant.”

And that makes you laugh, hands lowering to brush kindly through his hair. Both of those broad palms then move beneath your thighs, holding them with a secure grip while sucking on your core. It’s already on his face, on his lips and chin and cheeks. And lord, does he love that. He’d willingly drown in this if he could. Getting his face wet with your slick made him the happiest man on earth, made him harder than he ever thought he could be. 

“Pretty little whore, aren’t you?” Jack chuckles, leaning back to spit on your folds. “Sittin’ here with my baby inside you, and your body’s still beggin’ for more.” The devil truly came out when he was like this, nothing but offensive praise and aggressive passion.

Running his tongue up and down through your lips, he groans, wrapping his mouth around your sensitive bud. And when he gives the tiniest succession of sucks, pulsing his lips around that tiny pearl, you feel like you’re going to come undone. Every part of you feels light and airy, like you could float away at any second. It’s like you’re buzzing with it, with euphoria and happiness. And he just keeps going, just keeps his head between your legs and his mouth on your throbbing cunt. 

Jack knows when to hold you down, he’s done this too many times to not be aware. The grip he gives your hips is bruising, digging in with ferocity while shoving you onto his mouth. Your hips grind against him, head forcing itself back while you cry out for him. It’s a sweet whine, a gasping moan, fingers tightening on those dark brown strands while he fucks his tongue into you over and over again. He did that every time he ate you out, sucked on your clit until he made you unravel and then dove down to collect what he’d worked so hard for.

“I’m so fucking in love with you.” He’s out of breath, reaching for your jaw before smashing his mouth to your own. Instantly, the combination of his spit and your slick is running down your chin, legs shaking gently while Jack consumes you from above. 

“I’m, I - baby.”

“Get up,” Jack grunts, hauling you up by your arms. “Gonna get you in bed so I can see the mess you made for me.” 

Keeping his grip on your bicep, he pulls you alongside him, hurrying down the hall. The master bedroom isn’t far, which your shaky legs are thankful for. His demanding words and actions make everything seem so quick, like you don’t have a choice in anything that’s going on. And truthfully, you want it that way. You want Jack to make the decisions, you want to lie down and do whatever he wants you to. 

Shoving you forward, he watches you stumble onto the bed, a bright grin on your beautiful face. Taking a beat, he pauses, standing above you before beginning to remove his shirt. And while keeping that deadly gaze, you move backward on the covers, shimmying out of your panties. 

Eyes dipping down, he nods toward your chest. “Take off your bra.” 

While unbuttoning his shirt, he watches you complete his task, tossing the last bit of your clothing onto the floor beside your bed. And just in time for him to shove his pants down, too. 

“Mine,” He suddenly says, crawling over you on the bed. “Mine - all mine.”

Again, he’s obsessing over your breasts, shoving his face between them while his hands work the rest. His body rubs against you, cock wet and leaking on your thigh. It makes your insides burn bright, seeing his overt attraction for you. He gets so passionate when he’s like this, so vulnerable yet assertive, confident. 

“Let me get my fingers inside you.” That breathy voice says, licking two of them before dragging them down your chest. 

While his tongue lays out, toying with your nipples, Jack’s fingers dip inside your entrance, already loose from your orgasm. So sweet and welcoming, velvety and warm. And all you can do is writhe beneath the weight of his body, turning your head to kiss his cheek and neck. The curl of his fingers practically makes you shriek, feeling your body react on its own accord. 

“So sensitive like this, baby.” It’s lazy, the way he licks your nipples, teeth dragging over the red and puffy peaks. And then he’s sucking on them, sucking on the swollen swell of your tits and groaning like he’d just cum in his goddamn pants.

“Tell me you want more.”

“I want it,” Nodding, you gasp, swallowing dryly. “I want more.”

Your hips cant upwards in time with his fingers’ movement, hands grasping for his bicep and back. But it’s not enough, not for him.

“Tell daddy you need him, c’mon.”

“Daddy, please.”

“Nuh-uh,” Breathily, he chuckles. “Use your big girl words, sweet pea.” 

“I need you, I need you, daddy. Please, please.” In an attempt to convince him, you lower your hand, finding him laying heavy over your thigh. The firm grip you give his cock makes everything slow down for him, his eyes shutting alongside a small hiss. Even his fingers fall slack, chest dropping against your own. 

“Touch me, baby.” It’s a quiet command, one said while he nods. “Touch daddy.”

Knowing that he’s happy with this, you grin, running your fist up and down his length. Glancing down between your bodies, Jack watches, eyeing the way your thumb swipes over his tip.

“Oh, fuck.” Shaking his head, Jack sighs, hips rocking into your grip. “Always need you like this, sugar, always…” 

You can’t deny that it’s been hard these past few weeks, hell, these past few months. Being intimate hasn’t been a priority for the two of you, unfortunately; stress just took control of your lives. Jack’s career was becoming incredibly demanding, leaving you to care for the house and your unborn baby all on your own. Setting up the nursery, going to doctor’s appointments by yourself, feeling the baby kick without your husband there to experience it, somedays, it was just heartbreaking for you. But you’re here now, you’re together, without a single distraction in sight. You’re his, and he’s mine. That fact is always in your mind.

Taking himself from your hand, he settles between your legs with a relieved breath. Jack’s love for you consumes him, his entire body and mind. He just wants to wrap himself around you, looping his arms around your back while burying his face in your hair. 

“Jack,” It’s said quietly while you hold him, stroking his hair. 

Lifting one hand, it rests on your left breast, Jack’s hips moving to push into you slowly. The way you open up for him is an absolute dream, a breathless laugh spilling from his mouth as it happens. And when he pinches your nipple, you whine, forcing a jump from his cock as it rests inside. 

“You just need a lil’ extra somethin’, don’t you, sweetheart?” There’s a teasing tone to his voice, but you’re not sure what he means. 

Pressing his face into the curve of your neck, Jack smiles brightly, lips dragging over the skin as he begins to move. So he doesn’t hurt you, the hand on your chest moves to the bed, placing all of his weight onto it. 

“Puttin’ my dick inside you just ain’t enough anymore. Was it ever?”

“Daddy, what…” The steady pump of his cock between your legs is making you feel delirious, flooding your body with a sense of euphoria you’ve never felt before your pregnancy. “What do you mean?” 

“Remember what we used to do, sugar? You remember?” Heat creeps onto your cheeks as he says it, legs lifting to his waist as the arousal in your body heightens. “You remember what you did in my office?” 

“B-Baby,” He knows this gets to you, knows it hits right to your core.

“I remember,” Jack continues, licking at your neck. “Bendin’ you over my desk, fuckin’ you dumb over my paperwork. Or how ‘bout the times you sucked me off while I talked to Champ, huh? What about that?” 

Every firm shove forces the tip of his cock against your most sensitive spot, the thin tissue that just begs for his presence. And that, alongside those devilish words, is making you drip around him.

“Crawling on your knees for me in my jet,” He’s throbbing inside you, words becoming airy as he reconnects with your body. “Shit,” Hissing harshly, his eyes pinch shut. “Fuck me, honey. You remember rubbing yourself over me? Over my new goddamn boots because you were so horny?”

“Fuck, yes.” Exposing your neck even more, you toss your head back, feeling Jack’s teeth make their own special imprint. 

The memory is all too erotic, something you honestly can’t believe you did. Jack made you stupid; he was so goddamn attractive, so goddamn charming, that you’d do anything just to please him. Even if it meant humiliating yourself, you’d do it just to get off. 

“Hm…” You sigh out, placing your chin on his knee and closing your eyes in contentment.

“How’s that feel, honey?” He asks, reaching down to tilt your chin up to him.

Your eyes open, lids already heavy with adoration and lust. Jack’s smiling down at you, his expression soft and caring.

“So good,” Comes your contented hum, more than happy to finally have contact with your lover.

“Yeah?” He whispers, “Then keep goin’. Make ‘em all wet and shiny for me, honey.”  

You whimper quietly at his words, moaning lightly as you lean forward to begin moving your hips. The movement of your soft skin, your folds brushing over the smoothness of the material, only furthers the waves of heat that begin flowing through your core.  

“Go on,” He urges, “entertain me, sweet pea.”

“God, do I miss that. Havin’ my own little slut on tap.”

“Daddy, I’m, I’m still here.” It sounds pathetic, like you’re begging, trying your damnedest to prove to him that that part of you hasn’t left. 

“Oh, I know you are.” Lifting himself from your body, Jack glares down at you, one hand lifting to grab your jaw. “I know you’re there, babycakes. Comes out every time I’m inside you, every time I give you a demand. Why don’t you show me?”

At this, your brows raise innocently, unable to speak from the grip he has on your jaw and chin. And amidst your silence, he says, “Show me how well you still listen to me… and open that mouth.”

As soon as his grip allows you to, your lips are parting. That strong hand drops to your throat then, Jack’s face coming down to drip a cool trail of spit onto your tongue. But he’s not done then, not until spitting forcefully onto your mouth. And the moan you exude is nothing short of whorish and erotic, the liquid sliding over your tongue. 

“Yeah…” The word is said with a cocky sense of power, that gorgeous half-smirk crawling onto his face. “You just can’t get off to that vanilla shit anymore, can you, babycakes? You need it rough, don’t you?”

That hand is still on your throat, and only tightens as he speaks. With every thrust, his pelvis slaps against you, forcing your legs wider, and forcing himself deeper.

“Need daddy to manhandle you? Choke you? Hold you down and bruise you?”

Burying himself inside your cunt, you can’t help but feel so perfectly full, the veins along his shaft rubbing delightfully against your inner skin. It feels so natural, this connection, so natural and sensual. But nothing about it is sweet; everything about this encounter screams salacious and indecent. 

“Yes,” Comes your little plea, nodding. “Yes.”

Each shove rocks your body against the mattress, the strength of Jack’s body surrounding your entire presence. He feels so warm and strong, soft when he needs to be and mean when he wants to be. 

“I love this,” Jack admits, “Love nothing more than this; connecting with you. Look at you, just look at you.”

Lowering himself with a flurry of rapid breaths, he presses his mouth to your cheek, expressing his adoration for you. “You’re so good for me, my pretty baby. So pretty like this, sugar. Fuckin’ gorgeous when you take me.”

“I need you, can’t, can’t live without you.”

“Never, sugar.” Gasping against the side of your head, Jack’s chest stutters, a deep groan slipping from his lips. “Always here for you, with you.” 

When he gets like this, you can’t help but wrap your legs around him, tightening every muscle and pulling him in. And he lets you, falling into your embrace with a deep moan of gratification. It consumes him, the pleasure of it all, of releasing inside your wonderfully welcoming body. Jolting slightly above your beautiful and giving form, Jack moans helplessly, feeling his release wash over your walls. Every spurt is accompanied with a sharp shudder, arms moving to encircle you fully. Humid grunts pass over your ear, his mouth hanging open as he experiences the sensation of it. 

“My sweet girl.” Your husband finally says, his body tingling with every ounce of happiness that he has. His hold is full of pure, unwavering love, full of absolute worship and adoration. And beneath him, you relax, wanting nothing more than to rest with him in this peace. 

Kissing your head, Jack whispers sweetly, “Perfect little thing.” 

It’s in this moment that you feel every single worry melt away, every anxious thought about Statesman and the baby. Those negative notions serve absolutely no purpose to you, not when Jack is here, not when he cares for you so consistently and so openly. With Jack, you’re safe, you’ve never known otherwise. And nothing could ever take him away from you.

[sl-newsie]

Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter) Ch. 1: Control

“Ouch! No no no- definitely too much moon powder!” I hastily wipe my hands on my dusty skirt as I attempt to put out the purple flames coming out of my cauldron. I’m attempting a healing potion for my cat Twilight, but accidentally misread the spellbook. Mom’s spellbook.

But I’m too late to cover my tracks- I can already hear footsteps approaching outside!

“Magica! What have I told you about practicing magic?” My father yells from the doorway.

Twilight hisses and scrambles out of the kitchen, leaving me to fend for myself.

I cringe and turn around slowly. “Not to?”

My father, a tall buff man wearing a hunter’s cap, stomps into the room. “Yes! What if the Royal Guard was passing by? I don’t want you getting locked away!”

“But I don’t live on the Isle of the Lost, so magic is allowed here!”

“They don’t know-!” He sighs and rubs his head. “Since they don’t know about your mother, it’s best to just keep your magic hidden.”

“But dad, I’m finally getting the hang of this! I think I might write to Fairy Godmother and tell her about my magic-!”

“No!” My father stomps forward and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Magica, you’re my only daughter. If they found out you’re the descendant of a villain they could lock you up. I- I only want what’s best for you, understand? I know you’re proud of this gift and are a very talented witch, but sometimes it’s best to be normal.”

“But- but-!” I can feel my aunt’s temper boiling inside me. “Why should I be different?”

I wrap my cloak around me and storm out into the woods. There’s a secret spot I have near the stream that runs into the Enchanted Lake. It’s a small clearing big enough to practice my magic safely. After I sit down on a boulder I start tearing up, torn between being mad at my father for silencing my magic and being ashamed of being the descendant of an evil witch.

Yup, that’s me. Magica Sanderson, secret daughter of the infamous Sarah Sanderson. From what I’ve gathered, my mother seduced the Evil Queen’s Huntsman so Winifred Sanderson could steal one of her potions. The Huntsman became my father, and when he found out about me he immediately brought me to Snow White’s kingdom to keep me from becoming a VK. But the one thing he couldn’t avoid was the fact that I inherited my Aunt Winnie’s magical talent and my mother’s bewitching looks. I have my mother’s pale fair skin, white-blonde hair, and slim figure. I also inherited my Aunt Winnie’s bright green eyes and Aunt Mary’s love for Cheetos. I can’t help it- I’m a halfblood witch!

Father has tried to suppress my family ties by homeschooling me in our woodland cottage and dressing me in flowy pink dresses just like the goody-two-shoes kids wear at Auradon Prep. When I was old enough to control my powers, father brought me to the Auradon kingdom to meet Prince Ben, son of Beauty and the Beast. Immediately we became inseparable best friends, always causing mischief despite our parents’ disapproval. One time we slipped a hiccup potion into Chad Charming’s drink during a gala social, and spent the next half hour trying not to burst out laughing when he tried hiccuping at Audrey to ask her out! I told Ben about my powers, and he promised to keep it secret. He knows I’m nothing like my mother or aunts, and that I’d never try to hurt anyone.

But even so Ben’s acceptance can’t help fill the gap that separates me from the other kids in the village. I’m still different no matter how hard I try because I don’t have the arrogant, uppity attitude that the other kids have.

Mother, why do I have to be so different? Could I have at least one true friend who won’t disappear?

“Meow?” A voice calls.

I look over and see that Twilight has returned with another black cat- one with recognizable yellow eyes.

I sniff. “Hey, Binx. How’s it been?”

The two felines slink between my legs and rub their noses on my boots.

“Been fine, but from what Twilight’s told me you’re in a bit of a pickle. I know your dad means well, but even I agree that suppressed magic is never a good idea.”

I stop twirling pink sparks on my fingers and give Binx an odd look. “Why?”

Binx glances around nervously. “Well… I’ve heard stories of past maidens that try to bottle up their magic until any sudden breakdown can cause an outburst. Do you remember Elsa of Arendelle?”

The memory of seeing former Queen Elsa’s meltdown on tv runs through my head, and I have to agree that holding back my magic could lead to something worse.

“You’re right, Binx. But I can’t just do some tricks and expect the whole kingdom to be ok with it. I could be sent to Auradon Prep, or worse- the Isle of the Lost! And magic’s forbidden there so I’d be powerless! That and I’d have to live with-” I shutter. “My mom.”

Binx hisses and Twilight swipes a paw against my cheek. “No you won’t. We wouldn’t let that happen, and your father would protect you. I suggest you cool down a bit and then go back to the house.”

I sigh. “I guess so. But how long will I have to hide like this? All my life I’ve followed the rules and been nice, so I’m not wicked… am I?”

“No, no,” Binx assures with a soft voice. “It’s not that, it’s just that normal folks are unsettled by the strange and unusual. It’s like you said, you’ll be sent to Auradon Prep. You don’t want that, do you?”

I gag. “Ugh, no! Ben says all the people there are stuck up and half-witted fools! I would rather eat a toadstool dipped in boysenberry sauce than associate with those idiots!” I stand up and start walking back to the cottage. “Sorry Binx, but right now I better head back to father before supper. I’ll save you some fish!”

[m-jelly]

Yaaay punkins!

Dad Levi x Fem!Reader

Modern AU, fluff, romance, small town fic, sheriff Levi, cute, Levi being a good dad, woodland walk, pumpkin picking, two children, married life.

You go for a nice woodland walk as a family and talk about lots of mythical creatures with your children. At the end of your walk you go to a pumpkin patch to pick your pumpkins and get the kids some hot chocolate.

For @postwarlevi event!

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

"Daddy."

Levi was kneeling before his five-year-old daughter as he grabbed a coat for her. "Yes, my little flower?"

She sighed. "Witches don't wear coats."

He smiled at her. "Well, your mummy is a witch and she wears them."

She blushed a little. "Mummy's pretty."

"She is and so are you." He hummed a laugh and grabbed a wholly cape coat with a witch hood. "How about this?"

"Yay!"

He chuckled and put it on her. "There we go. My perfect little witch." He winked at her. "Now, do you want your pretty boots or wellies?"

She threw her arms out. "Wellies!"

"You got it."

You walked over with Evan, your two-year-old, in your arms. "Hello, both. How are you?"

Levi smiled up at you. "Hello, beautiful. I was just dressing up your little witch."

You plopped Evan on his little feet and grinned. "Like me! We're matching, my little flower."

Lilly ran over to you and jumped up and down. "A witch like mummy!"

You picked her up and hugged her tightly. "That's right. You excited about going pumpkin picking after our walk?"

She threw her hands up. "Yaaay punkins!"

You kissed the side of her head. "Let's get your little bag."

"It has my wand in."

You went over to the bags hanging up and found Lilly's which was a pink big milk carton. You put her down and handed her the bag. "Here you go."

Levi fixed Evan's coat on for him. "All good little lad?"

Evan nodded. "Yes, daddy."

He stood up and sighed. "All right, let's get going on our walk. What are we hunting this time?"

Evan reached up and took Levi's hand. "Fairies!"

"Perfect."

Lilly hurried over. "Gonks too!"

You took her hand. "You making a deal with them?"

She gazed up at you. "I want to give them a present!"

You smiled softly. "Well, it's a good job I made you a little offering bag. I've put it in my bag."

Levi opened the front door. "Shoes on and let's head out."

Everyone finished getting ready before gathering outside the house. A woodland walk was the first on your list of things to do because your children loved being outside and exploring. Lilly was really into witch things, so any chance she could get out into the woods she took it. Evan just loved seeing animals and flowers.

You watched Lilly hurry ahead on the woodland path. "Don't run too far sweetheart."

Lilly slowed down. "Sorry mummy!"

Levi reached over and rubbed your back. "She'll be okay."

You hummed. "She might slip."

Levi flinched. "You're right." He let Evan go and ran over to Lilly as she got too close to the river. "Lilly!"

Evan stared at Levi before squealing with laughter. "Daddy's funny."

You took his hand and giggled. "He is, isn't he?"

Levi slowed down next to Lilly. "Careful of the water, okay? See this bit here? The moss? It's slippery here so you have to be careful."

She smiled at Levi. "Sorry daddy, I'll be careful."

"It's okay. Good girl. Hold my hand, okay?"

"Yes, Daddy!" She held his hand tightly and walked along with him. She tapped her wellies in the water and giggled. "Daddy?"

"Mm?"

"Do you think the Gonks will like me?"

He smiled at his daughter. "Of course. You are sweet and adorable. They will think you are the best."

A cute blush spread over her cheeks. "Wooow."

He squatted behind his daughter and hugged her close. "Can you see the fish?"

Lilly watched the water and gasped in delight when she saw the tiny fish moving around. "Cute!"

"They're coming to say hello. They're kissing your lovely wellies."

She giggled. "They're the best!"

Evan stomped his little feet as he walked along. He came to a stop and turned to you. "Mummy?"

You followed him. "Yes, little man?"

Evan pointed at a ring of mushrooms around a tree. "Fairies."

You gently moved him back from the ring. "Be careful. Remember what I told you about fairies."

He nodded. "Bad. They are naughty."

You played with his raven hair and admired him, he was just like Levi in looks. "That's right. We can look but not go near."

He waved. "Hi, fairies. Be good!"

You hummed a laugh. "You told them! Come on, let's go see your sister."

Evan gasped and started running to his older sister. "Lillyyyyy!"

You couldn't help but giggle when he ran over in his big puffy coat over to Lilly. "Cute."

Levi caught his son and stopped him from falling over. "Hold hands with your sister, okay?"

Lilly grabbed Evan's hand. "I'll look after you!"

Levi got up and walked over to you. "And I'll look after you."

You squeaked in delight as Levi pulled you close and nibbled your neck. "Levi."

He smirked when the kids giggled. He pulled back a bit and kissed you. "Come on, we have to give an offering to the gonks." He held you close. "Lead the way kids, but be careful, okay? No running."

You leaned against Levi as you walked with him. Both of you watched your children closely as they walked along the path. Your kids would walk a bit before waiting if they hurried too far ahead. It wasn't too cold yet, but Levi had wrapped them both up a lot to protect them from any cold.

Lilly came to a stop. "Mummy? Gonks!"

You opened your purse and pulled out a bag with little offerings. "Got the offerings." You crouched next to her and saw the stone slab with little offerings on it, candles, letters and a cute stone home. "All right, come here my little flower."

Lilly cuddled up to you and took out a few things in the bag. "Enjoy the food and drink we give you, lovely Gonks! Look after us."

You put some things down. "Look after us." You stood up and smiled. "I think we should go pick our pumpkins out now. Right Levi?"

Levi nodded. "Ready." He heard Evan make a noise. "What's wrong little man?"

Evan gazed at Levi and looked tired, before pulling a sad face, then a silent crying face and finally he started crying a little. "Tired."

Levi picked up Evan. "Oh dear. I've got you. You rest your little legs, okay?" He rubbed Evan's back. "You rest, let me carry you."

Lilly held your hand. "I'll hold onto you, mummy."

You smiled at how sweet your daughter was. "Thank you."

Levi led the way on the path until he reached the farm with all the pumpkins in. Levi smiled and waved at people as they greeted him. Being the sheriff of the town meant he was rather popular, especially with the ladies and elderly. He was strong, kind, dedicated and now he was a dad he had that extra softness to him.

Lilly bounced up and down. "Yaaay! Punkins!"

You released her hand and let her run a bit. "Stay close!" This town was incredibly safe for children and people, but your babies were precious to you and you worried. "Bless her."

Lilly picked up a funky-looking pumpkin and held it above her head. "Mummy! Look at this one!"

Levi handed you Evan. "I'll go stop her before she drops it on her head."

You adjusted your son. "You tired?"

Evan nodded and snuggled against you. "Tired."

"Bless you. We'll get you some yummy hot chocolate and a doughnut."

He nodded. "Thank you, mummy."

You joined Levi and Lilly to see he was holding a few pumpkins. "Levi? We don't need that many."

Levi whined. "But Lilly."

You kissed Levi's cheek. "I know, I know, you want to spoil our kids."

"I do." He sighed. "Lilly? My little flower witch? No more pumpkins, okay? Otherwise we'll have a lot of smelly pumpkins when the season is over."

Lilly grinned. "Okay, daddy."

Levi relaxed a moment and felt happy his kids were accepting of nos and reasoning. "Let's pay for these and then we'll get you some hot chocolate and a doughnut."

"Yummy!"

You kissed Levi's shoulder. "Good boy."

Levi perked up and hurried over to the counter to pay. He chatted with the farmer and thanked them for a great event. He put everything in a box to carry and smiled fondly at Lilly as she chatted with the farmer about her cute witch ways.

You waved to the farmer. "Thank you again. All right little ones, time for that hot chocolate and doughnut."

Levi led them to a little cosy part of the farm and sat Lilly on his lap. He ordered drinks for everyone and a nice freshly made doughnut coated in granulated sugar. "Mm, this is the best."

You tore up Evan's doughnut and fed it to him. "It's perfect."

Evan hummed in happiness. "Yummy."

Lilly grinned in delight. "Thank you, mummy and daddy."

Levi kissed her cheek. "You're welcome."

[starsofjewels]

HPQD: Birthdays

‘Sometimes in the journey you can forget the purpose of the trip.’ Me, rn, trying to sound fancy.

 ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

It’s my birthday on an undisclosed Libra date (wish me happy birthday pls I need the attention), and so I present to you this post, because I haven’t done a QD in MONTHS. And as much as I love Greggie… Hot werewolf man. That’s it.

Requests and other funnies are comings, this was just for the sillies.

 ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

CONTENT: Not much, for once. Mentions of sex in Fenrir's paragraph (because of course), LV being a toxic (overly controlling etc).

INFO- Each DILF has a birthday quality rating and a best gift given rating. Be underwhelmed.

Approx 1k words: Very lil pookie baby.

Barty Crouch Sr- Traditional and Well-Planned:

He’s a simple man with very limited needs, in terms of it. In fact, you probably won’t even know when his birthday is until the day-of, and his sisters send him cards. That being said, your birthday is a completely different game. It’s easiest for him to show affection through material gifts, so expect flowers, jewellery, and anything that you’ve had your eye on over the course of the year may mysteriously appear in a gift basket at some point during the day. Barty will go through all the motions of the birthday, he’ll take you for dinner, then the theatre, and the day after you’ll have a small family gathering. He has it arranged very far in advance, he likes to be planned. It becomes your little tradition, and you’re oddly alright with that.

Birthday Rating: 6/10 - Solid, non-spontaneous.

Best Gift: That pair of overly expensive shoes you swore you didn’t need and he told you he wouldn’t buy… He still bought them. 7/10: -3 points for lying.

Fenrir Greyback- Woodland Chaos:

Do you remember participating in/ watching kids organise things for Mother’s Day? This exact vibe. He’s not very good at remembering small things: what to bring home from the shops, which day it is, that sort of thing. He’ll get the date right, but the day wrong. Cue panic when he realises your birthday is today, and not tomorrow. But, living in a forest and being a canonic pile of muscle has its advantages. He’ll hunt a few deer, maybe steal a cow from one of the farms a few miles out and you’ll have a lovely, if slightly meat-central, birthday barbeque. It is very rushed and something will be forgotten, but it’s very sweet. He does remember to get your presents well in advance, though.

Birthday Rating: 4/10- Buy this man a calendar, please. Points for getting your gifts, though.

Best Gift: Birthday sex. My man goes all out. 100+/10.

Rufus Scrimgeour- Money buys Happiness:

Let’s not forget Rufus is making bank as Minister. Let’s also not forget this man lives to get you whatever you want, whenever you want it. And what does a princess who has everything receive for her birthday? It started as whatever you wanted, but when you, like any self-respecting individual involved with an extraordinarily wealthy man, refused to take his money, it became an extended weekend trip to an undisclosed area of Europe. He’s Minister for Magic, and that comes with a certain level of international respect, especially as the famed War Minister. And so, you get a little trip to do some shopping, he’ll get a hotel with soap which has a higher net worth than you do, and when your next birthday comes around he’ll fight with you again over letting him buy you a present.

Birthday Rating: It’s a free trip to somewhere that isn’t GB- 10/10.

Best Gift: Cultural street food. A quiet night underneath street lighting, sitting in a park, with nothing really to say. A romantic, simple date. 8/10- It’s a coin flip whether or not you get food poisoning.

Lord Voldemort- Sweet or Creepy?:

We can be perfectly honest with ourselves, this is a judgement-free space… Tommy is creepy, he’s creepy as a kid, he’s creepy as a snake-talkin’ teenage hoodlum, and he’s creepy as a snake-lookin’ adult hoodlum. Isn’t that why we love him? You have, and always will have, guards with you at any time you’re not in the house, and this includes in the gardens, he’s not taking any chances. What this means is that he has two, or maybe even three, loyal, skilled men to watch over you. Anything you look at, or touch, or even mention in passing, will be recorded down and probably, eventually bought- Kind of like Barty, but in a depersonalised, slightly violating way. Your birthday dinner is about as cold and unfeeling as most Death Eater meetings are, but you get alcohol and attention, so who are you really to complain? As Dark Lady, there is a point where your personal life becomes a state affair, and this is one of them. But, if you’re good, he’ll give you a little picnic- Just the two of you, and maybe the children. It’s sweet, and a reminder that somewhere in him, there’s a heart which beats.

Birthday Rating (state affair): 3/10- I mean, who’s really complaining about free alcohol and wearing a pretty dress? +1 points for getting catering.

Birthday Rating (personal life): 9/10- Thought is put into it. It is sweet and simple, and you can forget your duty for just a moment.

Best Gift: A live Guinea pig (or other rodent of your choice- See the pets episode). 9/10- He feels bad about a snake eating the last one, so you get Nibbles. Nibbles does as his name suggests, and nibbles you when you first handle him. -1 point.

Igor Karkaroff- The Feast:

High Master does, at its very name suggests, require an awful lot of work, especially out of class time. He could work all day (not that he does) and still have more to do on overtime. His office is quite comfortable, though, so he shan’t particularly complain about it. That being said, living in an isolated mountain-castle in the middle of nowhere reduces the chances he’ll take you to a nice restaurant and a luxury hotel- There is no Hogsmeade equivalent for Durmstrang, remember- So, what do you get? A feast. You get a feast. And I don’t mean a tiny pizza slice and a fruit cup. Boars will be found, honey-mead will run like water, and there will be at least 4 days off for everyone to recover from the hangover. You are the best teacher this school has ever had, after all, you deserve a treat.

Birthday Rating: 10/10- (He has the Planning Committee organise and arrange the entire thing and then puts his name on it. It’s alright, you’ll get them a card).

Best Gift: More robes and/or pelt blankets- 6/10. It might sound a bit boring, but you do live in a literal mountain landscape, so it’s quite practical. +2 points for cosiness.

[4rainynite]

EAH Dorm Rooms Headcanons pt 21

Supporting Cast Addition

You know them, you love them, you wished you had character info/ doll of them! It's the supporting characters of EAH!

During EAH run there were many background characters in the show and book that we were curious about. Sadly, some stayed on the pages of the book series or had a limit screen time in the webseries.

I will not do all of the background characters because that would take too long.

Prudence and Charlotte Dorm

Both girls have wicked destinies, but one just wants to dance and the other just wants to play sports.

Prudence and Charlotte Step are Ashlynn's future stepsisters (step cousins) and are destined to be cruel to Ashlynn once the current Cinderella dies and her father marries one of the Evil Step-Librarians.

When, they were first introduced in 'Ashlynn Fashion Frolic' where they hijack Ashlynn's fashion show. In the end they get their karma when Ashlynn's curse turns the designer gowns into potato sacks leaving the sisters humiliate and punished by Headmaster Grimm by putting on a show without his permission and making a mess in the cafeteria.

Like most siblings Prudence and Charlotte share a room both at home and at school.

Due to Ashlynn's destiny she cleans their room and makes their outfits for them. Luckily Ashlynn has her friends and woodland critters to help her. When they befriend Ashlynn they clean their room themselves.

Their room is messy on purpose so Ashlynn will have a hard time cleaning up. Between the Wonderlanders and Sparrow Hood they're in the middle. Sparrow being 1st place, the Steps being 2nd place, and the Wonderlanders being 3rd place.

Their dorm is either the same size as Ashlynn & Briar or Duchess and Lizzie. It's a mixture of both elegant and tacky with a ton of gold motifs. Their canopy beds, vanity sets, and other furniture is made of gold.

Thier divider walls would have pictures of themselves, friends, mother, and aunt. It's not until they become friends with Ashlynn do they add her to the mix.

Prudence (the purple one) has a love for dancing despite not being good at it. Her side of the dorm has a ballet bar, a lot of cds to dance to, and a lot of space to dance.

Charlotte (the red one) has a love of football (and maybe other sports) and has football equipment, trophies, and exercise gear on her side of the dorm.

Lilly-Bo and Muffy's dorm

One loses her sheep every two seconds and one loses her curds after getting scared by a spider.

Both girls are from popular nursery rhymes and have animal companions in their tales.

I'm gonna be honest the reason I paired these two together was because of the pastel aesthetic they had going on with Lilly-Bo having a cottagecore and Muffy maybe having a pastel goth vibe.

Lilly-Bo's side of the dorm:

Lilly-Bo is the future Little Bo Peep and is doing a great job of that by losing her sheep. Not much is known about her due to being a background character except her best friend is the son of the Hero of Haarlem and she loses her sheep.

Lilly-Bo has a total of five sheep whom she cares for despite losing them. Due to their size and how many there are they sleep in the stable like the other large pets at night but can roam around the school with Lilly-Bo during the day.

Lilly-Bo's side of the dorm has a pastel and cottagecore vibe.

Her side of the dorm is filled with sheep motifs. She would have a collection of sheep plushies.

She owns a ton of running shoes to keep up with her sheep and owns a few trophies from track and field.

Due to her destiny Lilly-Bo as a collection of crooks and bonnets for every occasion. She even has bonnets for her sheep.

Muffy's side of the dorm:

Muffy is the future Little Miss Muffet who'll eat curds and whey and gets scared off by a spider. Not much is known about her due to her appearing late in the series, what is known is she's a good business woman with a love of spiders and yo-curd.

Muffy doesn't fear Mr. Spider and are in fact business partners seeing as she runs a frozen yo-curd buisiness.

Mr. Spider is a family fan and a lot of Muffy's products (like the cup she holds above) are inspired by him.

Like I said above about Mr. Spider being an influence of Muffy most of her furniture and clothes have spiderweb designs on them.

She totally has fairy lights and many tuffets throughout her side of the dorm.

She most likely isn't in her dorm that much due to running her business. She mainly uses it for homework, sleep, and to come up with new flavors for her yo-curd stand.

Harley's side of the dorm:

He's the son of a hero who saved the town by flooding with his thumb and is living up to his destiny when he's not distracted.

Not much is known about her due to being a background character except her best friend is Lilly-Bo, he's in Apple's fan club, and he plugs up leaks.

Due to his story, he takes pride in his Dutch heritage and has Dutch design and his room and tulips.

For the sake of irony, he has a waterbed that leaks a lot.

Lilly-Bo gives him blankets and sweaters that are made from her sheep's wool. Harley treasures them and finds them super comfy.

Due to always stopping leaks, Harley has nail kit and bandages to fix broken nails and hand masks to give his hands a break.

He also has repair kits with tape and cement to fix leaks himself.

He's a huge fan of Apple White and has posters and autographs of her surrounding his room.

Tiny's side of the dorm:

He's a giant with a heart as big as he is.

Tiny is the future Giant in Jack and the Beanstalk and despite being the antagonist he's a big sweetheart.

Being the tallest student at Ever After High School he has the biggest dorm in the school, tower, or stays above the clouds in a beanstalk.

His bed is made out of clouds and is one of the softest beds in school.

Before Headmaster Grimm sabotaged him Tiny was on the same dance level as Duchess, and he is very athletic to be on the school's football team. So, his dorm room is big enough for him to move around.

Tiny is athletic and is on many sports teams so he has a case full of trophies, but being a giant the trophies are tiny and are in a little case like a collector with tiny porcelain dolls.

Lily White's side of the dorm:

She's a chess piece set to be queen.

Lily only appeared briefly in 'Way Too Wonderland' so not much is known about her.

Like the other Wonderlanders she is messy most likely doesn't have a roommate due to arriving so late in the year.

Her room is designed like a chess board and chess motifs throughout her room.

Has a canopy bed and other chess furniture.

She'd be into chess and croquet so she has the equipment in her room.

Three Little Pigs and Three Billy Goats Gruff :

Two sets of brothers (maybe triplets) who supply the comic relief in the series.

Both were seen in the beginning of the series until the show decided to replace the Three Little Pigs for the Three Billy Goats Gruff for some strange reason. In my opinion they should've kept both and make them have a rivalry with each other (especially the smallest of the groups).

While the school normally has two to a dorm room the Three Little Pigs and Three Billy Goats Gruff's are the only ones with three to a dorm.

They have triple bunkbeds with the youngest at the top bunk and oldest at the bottom bunk.

Since they're the shortest students their dorm is the same size as Duchess & Lizzie, Cupid & Blondie, or Ramona & Justine.

The room is divided in three sections so each pig and goat gets his own space.

[classcursehq]

memorial  day  rolls  around,  lincoln  city  still  under  the  microscope  when  it  comes  to  the  events  of  the  past  few  weeks...  little  jessie  jones  is  doing  his  paper  rounds,  the  latest  edition  of  the  jubilee  chronicle  landing  on  doorstep  after  doorstep  before  dawn  breaks.  it's  never  really  had  any  jaw  dropping  content  before  but  by  the  time  that  9am  rolls  around,  the  word  is  spreading  faster  than  wildfire...  not  because  of  the  content  of  the  chronicle  but  a  small  article  stapled  inside  the  front  page.  it  reads...   dear  readers,  i  think  there  comes  a  time  when  we  must  exercise  our  freedom  of  speech.  my  editor  has  told  me  that  we  are  not  to  share  the  information  that  has  been  passed  on  to  us  but  out  of  moral  obligation,  i  cannot  hold  my  tongue.  i  don't  think  that  the  police  are  serving  in  the  best  interest  of  us,  here  in  town,  allowing  vital  information  to  remain  hidden  in  plain  sight.  i  happen  to  have  transcripts  from  their  latest  investigation  that  suggested  that  the  missing  boys  shoes  were  found  buried  in  local  woodland.  they  are  describing  what  happened  as  a  binge  drinking  fuelled  night  gone  wrong,  memories  of  those  who  were  there  seeming  to  be  diminished.  and  more...  that  chris  wilder  has  a  secret  sibling  right  here  in  town,  walking  amongst  us  yet  shrouded  in  secrecy.  if  you  don't  hear  from  me  again,  you'll  know  that  i  was  silenced  by  the  oppression  of  the  lincoln  city  police  department.  i  can't  wait  another  ten  years  to  speak  our  truth.  lux. by  noon,  everyone  knows  that  lux  has  been  let  go  of  by  the  jubilee  chronicle,  that  little  jessie  jones  has  never  cried  so  many  tears.  something  in  the  air  feels  even  more  different...  and  then  comes  the  message... chris  wilder  :  did  one  of  you  kill  me?

[mlmxreader]

Some Men Never Leave The War | Alfie Solomons x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ "Don't... don't shut me out, please" + "I'm stressed, and I'm cold, and I'm wet because I had to walk through the fucking rain"

[Something triggering happens while Alfie is away. Goes out in search of them and finds them in the only place he'd know where to.] ❞

: ̗̀➛ Alfie is all too aware that some men never leave the war, and that for some men, the war will never go away and will never end; he knows that, and he does try his best.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, trauma symptoms, brief mentions of hallucinations, smoking

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The telephone rang at exactly quarter past three in the morning, and although he was tired and he ached, hardly able to get rest thanks to his partner being back home, Alfie still dragged himself out of bed to answer it; he did wander if it was his mother, as he had offered to house sit for her while she was visiting some friends in another county, but surely she would not have rang him at such a time. He groaned, wiping his face as he cleared his throat.

“‘Ello?”

The voice on the other end, his own nephew, sounded scared and confused, so panicked that the poor boy stumbled over his own words. “Alfie, it’s, it’s your husband, he’s… Alfie, he’s having waking nightmares again, and runnin’, runnin’ around and, and I don’t, I don’t know what to do and I’m, I’m scared that-”

“Alrigh’,” Alfie yawned as he thought about what to do. “I’m a ten minute walk away, I ain’t gonna be long - just hang the fuck on. Breathe. Let him go.”

“What?!”

“Let him fuckin’ go,” he mumbled. “I know where he’s goin’, it’s fine.”

Alfie put the phone down with a heavy sigh before he went and got his shoes and his coat, not exactly pleased when he popped his head out of the door and saw the weather; rain pounding the pavement so hard that it bounced back up again, a harsh icy wind gushing through the street and nearly knocking him off of his feet.

But he knew where you were going at least. Whenever you were in trouble, whenever you were unsure of yourself or you needed a little bit of help, you always went to the exact same place - you even once admitted to him that, before the war, you used to go there whenever you needed to clear your head.

Down in the woods where no one else would know. Perched upon a riverbank and surrounded by harsh brambles and thick thorns. Nothing but the sound of gently trickling water and bird calls to surround you. Alfie knew it well, it was the same place where you had proposed to him just after the war.

It was the same place where you, him, the rabbi, and his family had gathered to sign the ketubah; the very same place where you had stood under the chuppah, where both of you had stamped on glasses with your right foot after giving the rings to each other.

Both of you had known at the time that the government and legal systems would not see the marriage as binding, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t.

You had been married in that woodland, it was almost certain that if your waking nightmares would be happening, you would go there.

He soon found out that he was right, seeing you sat on the damp and muddy riverbank with your arms around your knees, all but sobbing against them; he was slow, but still sat beside you and put his arm around your shoulders as he sighed heavily.

“Why didn’t you come to Mum’s? Eh?”

“The Germans,” you sobbed, crashing into him and shaking your head. “The Germans are out there, Alfie…”

“Alright, alright,” he whispered, gently running his hand up and down your arm. “C’mon, sonny Jim, let it all out…”

Your breath heaved, shaking and trembling as you cried against him; Alfie could, on some level, understand. He had seen and done the same things during the war that you did, but you had come away with it always on your mind, whilst he could leave it behind.

He wasn’t sure why.

Maybe it was because you had been gassed more than he had, or maybe it was because he suffered more knocks to the head. It happened a lot, though. Some soldiers couldn’t leave the war. Some soldiers dropped it on the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month when the armistice was called.

For whatever reason, you could not come home. Your mind was still years away, back in the trenches. Alfie knew better than to ask why you were going through one of your episodes again, but he supposed it was likely due to a car backfiring, which sounded an awful lot like shelling.

Or maybe someone walked behind you for a few minutes too long, and your mind could do nothing but scream “German!”. It could have been anything, but Alfie knew that better than anybody else, and if he was honest, he felt like he had failed for the first time in his life.

He had let you down, and what was worse, he had failed to protect you from all the shit going on in your head. He had failed, and he knew it. As much as he hated to think about it, he knew it.

But then you pushed him away, eyes wide and full of fear as you panted heavily, hands shaking as you withdrew almost entirely into yourself; for the first time in your life, you looked at Alfie like you didn’t trust him in the slightest.

“C’mon,” he sighed, speaking as softly as he could. “I’m stressed, and I’m cold, and I’m wet because I had to walk through the fuckin’ rain and… you’re lookin’ at me like a Jerry.”

“How can I trust you?” You whispered. “They’re telling me not to.”

He frowned. He knew you sometimes heard things that weren’t there, knew that sometimes old soldiers who were long in the grave would speak to you.

He cleared his throat, shuffling back a little even though the mud squelched beneath him. “Don’t… don’t shut me out, please.”

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” your voice trembled. “I don’t know if you’re real.”

He swallowed thickly, his breath shaking as he fought back the urge to sob loudly. “I ain’t gonna tell you to snap out of it… I ain’t gonna tell you what you’re feelin’ ain’t the fuckin’ truth or that it’s all bollocks… but I’m gonna stay right here. I ain’t fuckin’ movin’ until you’re ready to. Alright?”

You nodded, looking him up and down and letting out a quiet whimper as another sob began to tear through you. “Al… alright…”

“I’m gonna reach into my pocket,” he said clearly. “And I’m gonna pull out a packet of cigarettes… do you want one?”

You nodded.

“Alright.” 

[sleepyheadincoulds]

ℰ𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓊ℯ𝓁 ℳ． ℛ𝓊𝒾𝓏

(This is a updated version of my yuusona)‼️

—★“𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞? 𝐈 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨.”

Emmanuel is a 1st Year Ramshackle student. She’s 14 years old and she’s Night Raven’s little sister/child figure. She comes from Houston, Texas from her world and she has talent for making her own clothing and having her sense of fashion. 

Name: Emmanuel Marianna Ruiz

Nicknames: Emmy, Little Cinderella, Child of a Man, Jellyfishy, Lilac

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Birthday: June 18th (Gemini)

Height: 5” 1’ (155 cm)

Hometown: Houston, Texas

Voice claim(s): Jewel Sparkles (Lalaloopsy) Gypsy Rose (The Act)

Class: First year

Dorm: Ramshackle

Club: N/A

Hobby: Exploring abandoned places/creeks and forests

Talent: Sewing/Making her own clothes

Favorite food: Mochi

Least favorite food: Spinach

Likes: Friends, family, trinkets, talking to animals, heardcore rock music, scrapbooking

Dislikes: Being alone for a long time, being watched unknowingly

𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Emmanuel used to have long curly brunette hair, but she cut it short and dyed it pink. It now looks like cotton candy. (Never ask why and hair was changed aftermath of book 4) She has a peachy-light skin color and brown-hazel eyes. 

She does have the appearance of a teenager in their early teens, but her smile is something heart warming to see. 

𝐃𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦

Emmanuel’s dorm uniform was designed by her after inspiration from Cinderella’s maid outfit in the stories. It’s a blue button dress with a brown button vest, and with a signature blue ribbon as a bow tie around her neck. She has black flats for shoes and white high knee socks.

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

Emmanuel is too kind and too nice to understand anything, and always there for others. It’s easy to manipulate her but, never do that. Because once you do you’ll ruin her trust and just break her more (unless you’re sadistic). She’s just a teenage child. Doesn’t know any better and relies on those who are older and seem trustworthy. She is sensitive about some things and believes in dreams coming true.

But as she continues to grow, she’s forced into growing up. Meaning as she takes in responsibility as Ramshackle Prefect, she’s slowly becoming an Old Soul. She is maturing, but all too soon, she still has a heart that replaces her mind, but she’s growing up too fast and maturing too quickly for her age.

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

Emmanuel was born from Monterrey, Mexcio, but by the time she was 5 months old, her parents and family moved to Houston, Texas. She did grow up in that part of Texas, but it was just her parents, grandparents (from mom’s side), and other family relatives who lived near her.

She originally attended a K-12 school, and grew up with her two best friends, David and Oliver, but she did live a decent life. Her mother owned a clothing store while her father worked at a local restaurant.

Emmanuel learned how to make clothes and sew from her mother, but since both her parents aren’t home most of the time, she would go with her best friends to adventure creeks, forests, or even abandoned places.

𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚

Emmanuel loves to make clothing for herself out of scraps or any sort of fabric, she hopes to open her own clothing store like how her mother did.

She likes to collect trinkets from people she knows, or from exploring creeks, forests, and abandoned places.

Her first language was Spanish, since her parents wanted her to learn their native language, but she does know English well just not at an expert level.

It can be a surprise when it comes to her music taste, most people think she likes Pop music.

Whenever she sees someone cry, she cries too but not intentionally or feeling sad. It’s how her body responds when she sees others cry, it’s like her body can reflect sorrowful emotions without Emmanuel actually intending to cry.

Emmanuel somehow managed to bond with woodland creatures and they moved into her dorm. Grim has come company now but all the woodland critters have their own lil outfits!

She likes head butting people. Why? For absolutely no reason!

𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

[granulesofsand]

Coming Soon: the Big Day

🗝️🏷️ high stakes camping, RAMCOA

Finally let our survival alters stock up today. The day we can run is approaching, and if we don’t take that chance, it won’t be for lack of preparation.

We were trained for short term woodland living if we had long events, including “hunting”, but it was never our purpose. The people who do it best are largely inaccessible, so don’t be expecting us to be too helpful if you’re in a similar situation.

Today was luxury day;

Specific clothing (that we “would never wear”, but will indeed wear) — we have a running list of clothes our perps have seen and clothes that’ll tolerate rough and tumble

Hair dye (we have scissors for hair specifically) — the style we leave with won’t be the same the first few populated areas we stop through

Deep, light hot plate (may or may not work) — still looking for a pot that’ll handle fire and doesn’t weigh more than everything else combined, goal is boiled water and cooked foraged food

Nonperishables (nicer canned foods) — can eat cold or hot, weighty but good for long walks without properly edible plants

We have some more public-geared we don’t necessary need, but will take if we can fit it in the “big bag”;

Perfume (this is one our perps might recognize, but we intentionally don’t wear it near them) — covers bad smell, makes us come off not poor

Dress (one very nice and one eh) — sleeping in hotels, getting into bars and nightclubs

Soap (possibly also towel) — gym memberships provide showers with just water, just makes people less suspicious of us when we don’t stink

Purse (with small odds and ends, like a rechargeable lighter, a nice powerbank, little makeup) — looks like money, more acceptable than backpack

Computer (and charger) — easy access to cafes and the like, WiFi wherever, buys tickets and finds timetables, overall useful

And then staying alive needs;

Bags (big, backpack, purse) — one to travel, one for daily moving, one for looks

Sleeping bag (possibly blanket) — nighttime is cold, bugs live on the ground everywhere

Layers (coat and boots, light underthings and nicer gym shoes) — climate here is four seasons

Detergent (ideally safe-ish for clothes and safe for dishware)

Alcohol (also little pads) — cleans body, cleans wounds, better than nothing for cookingware

Cookingware (pot and ladle) — something to handle fire and something to touch hot food and wood

Container (big thermos) — for “soup” and drinking water

Tooth/hairbrush (possibly toothpaste) — better grooming builds trust

“Opt out” (fast-acting poison) — in case the other options are worse

We do want to find a safehouse, which would change the list some. The wheelchair would be hard to take, but our perps don’t know we have it. We have some sentimental we want to take, but won’t prioritize, and we intend to start with more than we need. Not everything we have is listed.

We’re looking for a cover to excuse our absence and give us a head start, but we’ll take what we can get. Money is also important, and might be a reason to delay if we don’t have it. Packing starts tomorrow (it’ll have passed by the time this queues), and then the waiting game.