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#cathy connors
retropopcult · 1 year
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Barbara Eden in a production still for the film “Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea” (1961)
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disorganizedkitten · 6 months
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We'll Take Our World By Storm Masterpost
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has educated more than seventy percent of the last three centuries’ historical figures. Foster siblings Harry Potter and Fay Dunbar-Black are beginning their first year there this fall, and they have plans. They’re not the only ones, though, and it seems like all plans have one kink in common - Harry’s twin brother, Connor; known for not dying when he should’ve.
[or at least, known for being caught not dying.]
Connor would like to go on record saying he’d love to stay out of this too. Between suspicious teachers, learning magic, the castle trying to murder their Ravenclaws, and Harry’s biological family trying to reconnect after ten years, everyone is busy. At least one thing hasn’t changed: the Wizarding World won’t know what hit them.
Ao3
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
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shrikebrother · 1 year
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i would so read a succession flowers in the attic au
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katewritesthings · 8 months
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Love Me Like I Can // Chapter 2
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Chapter 2 // How to Touch a Girl
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•warnings: Cursing. Cheating. Sexual Situations. Drinking. Drug use. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
The first time Diana woke up the morning after her birthday was actual torture, she was sure. The need to empty her bladder caused her to wake far earlier than she would have liked, early morning light barely making it through the blackout curtains that decorated her bedroom. The redhead carefully disentangled herself from the limbs of her sister and friend and climbed out of bed, grabbing her phone from beside her on the bed. Making her way to the ensuite bathroom, Diana immediately regretted unlocking her device for two reasons. First the dull ache in her head made itself known the second the light hit her eyes in contrast to the dark bathroom. 6:21 AM . Second, was a series of text messages from a number not saved to her phone that she decided could wait before she absolutely exploded. After washing her hands and splashing cold water on her face, Diana braced herself and opened the text thread.
+1(617)-555-1425 9:36 PM    you look sooo good in your IG pics 11:15 PM ugh i wish i was with you rn 12:20 AM cmon di. dont be a btich text me back 1:37 AM Ungrateful bitch.  2:39 AM   i see. youre out there fuckin with someone new. Thats  wh you wont text me back. He’ll just get bored of you like I did.  2:41 AM How long before he starts fucking yor sister 
Disappointed that the Boston area code and the content of messages meant the sender was clear, Diana quickly locked her phone and dropped it on the counter. She couldn’t deal with Connor right now. Leaving her phone in the bathroom, Diana crawled back into bed, thankful that she insisted on a “sleepover” last night and wasn’t alone to spiral.
The second time Diana woke up was slightly better than the first. She was alone in bed and her headache eased to a dull thumping, a glass of water on her bedside table. Emptying the glass in one go, Diana searched for her phone. A string of curses rang through her head when she remembered the reason that it was not beside her. After a dramatic sigh, she forced herself out of bed and into the bathroom. She turned on the light, looked in the mirror for the first time that day, and groaned out loud. Light reddish-purple bruises littering her neck and collarbone were visible under the sports bra she was wearing.
Annoyed with herself, Diana picked up her phone and checked the time: 12:12 PM. When she unlocked the device the messages from Connor were still open on the screen. While the reason for his vitriol was now apparent, clues painted on her skin, it didn’t make it justified. ‘It wasn’t like I had sex with Joe,’ she thought, ‘ And even if I had, I’m single and can fuck who I want. 
Diana blocked the number but kept the text thread to show Biz later and moved on to check her other notifications, some birthday wishes from people who couldn't make it last night and a missed call from Cathy at 9:30. Diana decided could give her manager a call back later and was replying to all of the messages and comments as she walked into the kitchen of the apartment she shared with her sister.
Biz, who was standing at the stove cooking bacon and French toast, spoke as Diana walked in eyes glued to her phone. “Gooood Morning beautiful, Happy actual birthday,” the younger woman sang in a joking manner. “Taylor left, she had to catch a flight for the awards tonight.” She paused a minute before excitedly saying, “There was a delivery for you this morning.”
Diana looked up at her last statement, confused even more at the smirk on the brunette’s face. “What delivery?”
Biz didn't respond except for pointing her spatula towards the living room, signaling Diana to investigate. Rolling her eyes, Diana did as she was told, walking farther down the hall to figure out what her sister was talking about.
She was not expecting multiple bouquets of roses placed in every nook and cranny they would fit to be decorating the living room. “What the fuck,” she muttered to herself, making her way toward the largest bouquet on the coffee table in the center of the room, silently counting the number of arrangements. Nine. 
‘What a strange number,’ she thought as she picked up the card attached to the large bundle of roses, looking out of place on the coffee table next to her TV remote.
Tried to get your number Cathy with no luck. Now who’s curving who? 513-555-6947 JB
Warmth filled Diana’s body as she reread the card for the third time, trying to make sense of it. Pulling up Cathy’s contact information on her phone and pressing call, she turned to see Bizz in the doorway smiling like the Cheshire Cat. 
“Soooo… who are those from?” Her tone gave her away, she already read the card.
“Fuck off,” Diana mouthed just as Cathy answered her phone, turning back to the flowers. “Cathy Allred,” the older woman answered cheerfully. “Hey, Cath, this is Di. I was just giving you a call back and wondering if you knew why there were 10 gigantic floral arrangements in my living room?” Diana greeted, attempting to keep her annoyance at her sister out of her voice.
Cathy’s throaty laugh came through the speaker and Di could imagine her expression was the same one that Biz was wearing. “Oh, honey. That handsome football player from last night was leaving messages at the buttcrack of dawn trying to weasel your number out of me. When I told him that I couldn’t clear that without your direct consent, he asked if he could send flowers to our office and have them forwarded to you if security approved the message. We just didn’t expect 9 separate bouquets.”
Diana was in shock. She couldn’t remember the last time she had received flowers unrelated to work.
“Well, uh, thank you, Cathy. That’s all I wanted. I’ll talk to you Wednesday,” Diana ended the phone call, still staring blankly at the literal dozens of roses sitting in her house. “Soooooo,” Biz’s voice came out in her signature sing-songy tone.  “Are ya gonna text him?” 
Diana bit her lip. “Well, I guess I should, right?”
She could feel her anxiety creeping up in the back of her mind, almost like frost crystallizing on glass in the winter. The first voices of self-doubt were beginning to scream you’re not good enough for him and he’s only going to break your heart when a hand on Diana’s shoulder refocused her.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Di,” Biz’s comforting words filled her ears. “He’s a really hot guy who is into you, so I’d say go for it. Texting him doesn’t mean you’re getting married next month, babe. But you were humping his leg like a dog in heat last night, so it probably would be proper etiquette to at least acknowledge his existence.” As was exiting the room laughing at her own joke as she said the last part. Diana rolled her eyes and thought about her sister’s advice. Joe really was an attractive man and all signs were pointing to him being attracted to her. Their physical chemistry last night had been off the charts and even though they didn’t discuss anything super deep, she was engrossed in the conversation, always wanting to hear what Joe had to say next. She was going to do it, she was going to text him.
She added his number to her phone and began debating how to start the conversation. After drafting and redrafting the generic ‘Hi! It’s Diana” messages for nearly two minutes, she finally settled on one that would let Joe know who she was.
Joe (Quarterback) 12:32 PM    you left before saying bye last night, i’d say you’re still curving me.
Phone in hand, Diana made her way toward the smell of brunch. Before she could even make it to the breakfast nook her phone buzzed in her hands signifying she had received a text.
Tee wasn’t feeling great, I had to dash. Let me make it up to you. I’m in NYC until Monday night.
Butterflies filled Diana’s stomach as her eyes scanned the messages she had just received. Joe didn’t leave the party because he was embarrassed by their hookup like her anxiety had been trying to convince her. He had a legitimate reason and he wanted to see her again to make up for it. Before she could let her nerves stop her, she fired off a reply to Joe
i’ll hold you to it. 😜 i’m free all day tomorrow.
 Diana didn’t even get a chance to lock her phone before a new message appeared on her screen.
Not anymore. Lunch?
She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or hunger making her stomach turn the way it was, so she decided to load up her plate before responding. 
After eating a decent amount of brunch and taking a well-needed shower, Diana was lounging in her bed, Parks and Recreation on in the background, staring at Joe’s texts. So many conflicting thoughts were running through her head about what her response should be. As much as she wanted to see Joe again, she couldn’t shake the feeling of fear. Sure Joe seemed nice, but Connor seemed nice enough at first. She knew her ex had just sent the hateful texts to get under skin, but he knew which blows hit the hardest.
“Biiiiiiz! Come in here!” she shouted from her spot on the bed, in a frustrated squeal.
“What’s the matter?” The brunette questioned, popping her head through the door. “I think I agreed to hang out with Joe tomorrow and I’m scared,” Diana whined, dragging out the vowels in the word ‘scared’.
A snort came from Biz as she made her way fully into the room. “He’s a man, Di, not a monster. Why are you scared?”
Diana knew this was the moment that she should share that Connor had texted her this morning, but for some reason, she couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. Instead, what came out was a pitiful gasp for air that made Biz by surprise.
“Just, what if I’m supposed to be more healed than I am,” Diana breathed, tears in her eyes. “Like, what if Joe turns out to be as good as he seems? Doesn’t he deserve more than this heartbroken version of me? I’m barely myself again, Biz.”
“I think you should at least hang out with him and see where it goes. Worst comes to worst, you guys know you’re physically into each other,” Biz teased. Diana rolled her eyes, “What if he’s expecting to fuck and I’m not ready?” Biz shot her sister a look. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Di. But let’s be real, you need to get dicked down. How long has it been?” Diana rolled her eyes again, not wanting to acknowledge she was currently on the longest dry spell she’d ever had. Things in the bedroom aspect of her relationship with Connor never really met her standards, always dissatisfied. The past six months of their relationship had consisted of barely any intimacy, Connor claiming he wasn’t attracted to Diana at the moment. Turns out, he was just getting his needs met by her best friend. “You’re right,” Diana gave in, texting Joe back.
1:26 PM deal, burrow. tomorrow at noon. Italian or Mexican? Shit. Just got word that public restaurants are a no-go. its okay. we can do pizza and sweets at my place
A new fear ran through Diana’s head as soon as she heard the “swoosh” sound from her head. “What if-” Diana was cut off by her sister throwing a pillow at her face. “Shut up,” Biz said in a more serious tone than before. “I get that you’re nervous, but stop coming up with these what-ifs. Smoke about it and attempt to channel your thoughts into something productive.” With that, Biz left the room.
Diana knew her sister was right. Not only did she tend to handle her anxiety better if she was channeling it into something productive, but she was behind on writing. Cathy had told her that the songwriters she was meeting with on Wednesday were expecting the start of at least six new songs and at this point, Diana only had four songs, three of which were fragments.
Lighting a preroll from her bedside table, Diana reached for her notebook, anxiety still at full force. As she hit the joint, she began to scribble down the thoughts that were looping in her head in an attempt to get them to stop.
I know that I’m better than this heartbroken version of me What if he can't compete with the things that I'm scared of that keep love from me? I get so attached and when it ends and the comedown hits I just end up hating me The energy that it takes to be somebody’s somebody just ain’t in me.
After she had stubbed out her joint, the voice of Diana’s anxiety had dulled to a whisper and her mood had lifted considerably. When Diana looked up from her notebook and checked her phone she saw two new messages from Joe.
Awesome. Can’t wait to see you.
What are you up to?
Smiling to herself, her fingers glided across the screen to type out that she was writing, hoping it could turn into a song and returning the question. Joe must have had his phone in hand because within record time her phone was signaling a new message.
Just left lunch with the guys, can I call you?
The butterflies from earlier had returned with a vengeance accompanied by a warm flush taking over her body. Within seconds of replying with an affirmative text, her phone was ringing in her hand indicating she was receiving a FaceTime call from Joe. “Hello,” she greeted hesitantly, internally cringing at her appearance in the camera. Her long hair was still wet from the shower and braided into Dutch braids down the side of her head and she had placed two star pimple patches on her forehead and chin, not expecting to see anyone but Biz. “Hey! You look great,” Joe responded, white smile beaming at Diana. He appeared to be sitting against a hotel headboard, dressed in a black Bengals hoodie. 
“No one likes a liar, Joe,” Diana smiled. “Wasn’t expecting a video call.”
“I just needed to make sure you were who you said you were,” Joe countered, smile turning into a playful grin. “Can’t be making plans to hang out with some rando, you know.” Diana rolled her eyes and placed her notebook on her bedside table, the action drawing Joe’s attention. “I’m sure girls are tripping over their own feet to eat lunch with you,” Diana let out a small laugh. “Unfortunately for you, I am myself and you have agreed to hang out with me. Now, if you’ll agree after this time, that’s a question for another day.” “Oh, yeah. What makes you say that?” Joe quirked an eyebrow, a grin still covering his beautiful mouth.
“Well, first of all, we’re getting pineapple on our pizza. Second of all, I planned on finishing my puzzle tomorrow, so you’re now getting roped into that.”
Laughter filled the speakers before Joe’s voice said, “Well, first things first, pineapple on pizza is the right decision… But a puzzle, really? What are you, 73?”
Diana was pleasantly surprised at the ease of carrying on a conversation with Joe. She had assumed that alcohol had lubricated their last interaction, but the way the conversation flowed for the next hour proved that wrong. Joe teasing her for doing puzzles led them to talk about their other hobbies which led to them talking about what started them on their careers.
“Yeah, so I’m hoping to be back by preseason, but there’s no guarantee. I just feel like I’m letting the team and the fans down, y’know,” Joe finished explaining his injury, something Diana had known the bare minimum about before this conversation. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked to the side. “Sorry to overwhelm you.”
“No, please don’t ever apologize for sharing your emotions, Joe. You can’t hold everything in because you’re afraid of being judged.” Diana’s heart tugged for a moment, imagining how Joe must feel after the season he had last year. She wanted to make sure he knew that she was someone he could share with even if this went nowhere.
“Okay,” Joe nodded, but still changing the subject, “So, what about you? Any new music I get to look forward to?”
Diana rolled her eyes but smiled. Connor was never interested in her career, implying that the music his band made was better and more meaningful. It felt nice to have someone who wasn’t her sister inquire about the progress she was making on her new album. “Actually, I have a few writing sessions over the next few weeks with my label and some producers and start recording some new stuff in March. We’re planning on turning the EP into an extended into a standard album” “Oh, yeah? Do you have a lot of material?” Joe asked, seeming genuinely interested in the answer. “Uh, actually, I didn’t. I’ve been writing a lot recently, though, so hopefully..” Diana trailed off, hoping the heat on her cheeks didn’t show up on Joe’s end of the video call. It was embarrassing enough to admit to herself that she had been more inspired since Joe appeared in her life than she had been in six years, but she’d die if he figured it out.
After a few more minutes of talking, one of Joe’s teammates knocked on his door causing Joe to get off the phone. They had been on the phone for an hour, but Diana was sure she could have talked to him for three more. Diana spent the rest of her night watching the Grammys on her couch. Diana’s team still thought it was best if she stayed home this year as Connor’s band was up for nomination and they wanted to avoid as many headlines about the two as they could. They insisted that Diana stream from home and interact with fans while the awards were happening, which worked out okay in her book. She had fun posting on her Instagram stories rooting for the artist she was friends or a fan of, secretly rejoicing when Bedford Scrolls lost the award they were up for. The fact that she was able to hang out with Joe because she stayed home was definitely, absolutely, not the main reason.
—-----------------------------
If there is one thing that will never change about Diana Hayes, it’s that she’s not a morning person. Or a “before 1 PM” person, really. So when her alarm went off at 10 this morning, she wanted to press snooze with everything in her being. That was until she actually looked at her phone and noticed the text notifications on her home screen. She had the normal business updates in her team group chat, but that wasn’t the one that caught Diana’s attention.
Joe (Quarterback) 7:01 AM Is there a specific dress code today?
A smile crossed Diana’s lips, relieved that he wasn’t canceling on her. Tapping a reply out on her phone, she got out of bed and headed towards her bathroom. 
10:02 AM whatever you’re comfortable in. i plan on restarting game of thrones today.
Diana busied herself by turning on her shower and adjusting the water temperature before her phone buzzed on the counter.
Sweats it is. 
Good choice on shows. Don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m King In The North 😉
Diana responded with an eye roll emoji before telling Joe she would see him at noon and entering the shower. She took her time in the shower, excitement bubbling in her stomach at the uncertainty of what the afternoon held. It had been ages since she had been on a first date, if this even was one, she wasn’t sure what protocol was anymore.
An hour and twenty minutes, one pair of shaved legs, and a fight with a hair dryer later Diana was freaking out. Joe would be here in less than an hour and she was regretting everything. He’s going to make fun of me, Diana thought to herself, he’s going to come over, think I’m weird, and then make fun of me to his friends. Adjusting her position on the couch, Diana brought her hands up to pick at her lips, an anxious habit she’d had since a child. 
Before her fingers could even make contact with her mouth, Biz’s hand swatted it away, an amused look on her face.
“You told me to stop you from picking!” Biz held up her arms in defense, “I just wanted to remind you to tag the bakery the croissants are from on Insta before I leave.”
Biz was driving back to Philadelphia with Eli for the day, giving Diana and Joe the apartment alone for the day. After Biz made her way out of the door, Diana busied herself taking pictures for her social media posts, starting the first episode of Game of Thrones, and snacking on the sweets that had been delivered while she was in the shower. Before she knew it her phone was ringing, Joe’s name flashing across the screen. 
“Hey,” Diana greeted, standing to pace in the living room. 
“Hey,” Joe responded, “I’m about to get in the elevator, I just wanted to let you know I’m almost there.”
“Okay. Once you get to the 14th floor, we’re on the right. See you in a minute.”
Moments later, Diana was opening the front door of her apartment, eyes scanning over Joe’s body. He was dressed in a tie-dyed blue and purple, Space Jam crewneck and a pair of gray sweats. She had never understood before when her friends had talked about men in gray sweats, but seeing Joe had shown her the light.
“Hey,” Diana finally found her voice, gesturing for him to walk in the door.
“Hey, again,” Joe joked, making his way past Diana to stand in the entryway. Closing the door, Diana met Joe’s eyes and felt her face heat up. 
“So, I have uhm, some pastries and fruit in the living room if you want to go in there. I’m like halfway through the first episode of Game of Thrones if you want to go watch.” Diana’s voice came out quicker than normal, nerves filling the space between the butterflies in her stomach.
Joe shook his head with a grin. “Alright. That sounds great to me.”
The pair made their way past the kitchen and into the living room, Diana waving her arm in the direction of the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. What do you want to drink?”
“Water sounds great, thanks,” Joe answered, walking to the corner of the couch. When she returned, Joe had sat down and was taking in the surroundings of Diana’s living space. The room was the same cream color that most high-end rentals are nowadays, sectional taking up most of the space. A coffee table in front held Diana’s laptop, a plate with croissants, cinnamon rolls, and strawberries, a glass of water, and two of the flower arrangements that Joe sent her the day before. The sectional was up against a full wall picture window, sage green blinds pulled halfway across and faced a flat screen TV that was paused on an image of Daenerys Targaryen walking into a steaming bath. 
“I know it’s plain, but we’re only staying here temporarily,” Diana said referring to the room they were in, her presence startling Joe.
“Oh. Planning on moving soon?” Joe inquired, pulling himself deeper into the couch. Diana set the glasses down on the coffee table and sat down next to Joe, leaving about a foot of space between them.
“Kind of? I wanted to stay in New York until the tour starts and then Biz and I were going to look at houses,” Diana said in response, “I don’t necessarily want to settle down in a huge city, but I can’t imagine myself going back to Philly.”
“Did you hate it there or something?” Joe seemed genuinely intrigued about Diana’s plans, which was something that surprised her. She had only really known him for 36 hours and she was ready to tell him everything.
“Only since my dad died,” Diana said, instantly followed with, “Oh my god. That was so depressing. Ignore me.” 
“You’re fine. It’s the real reason,” Joe chuckled, “I’ll quit interrogating you.”
The two talked a little more about Joe’s flight back to Cincinnati at 9 and the Grammys that happened the night before, somehow landing on their Game of Thrones opinions. 
“I won’t deny that she’s completely batshit insane, yes. But she’s one of the best characters!” Diana said, excitedly of Cersei. “That’s not what you said, you said she was your favorite character,” Joe countered, “Which, if it is true, is wild.”
Diana laughed as she brought her legs onto the couch and crossed them crisscross-applesauce. The space that had previously existed between her and Joe disappeared, her knee pressing into his thigh. Attempting to ignore the heat that was making its way up her neck, Diana leaned forward and grabbed the remote. “Just watch it from my perspective,” she said before pressing play.
The rest of the first episode and the entire second one played while Diana and Joe snacked and gave commentary on what was happening in the show. Between episodes, Diana had readjusted, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over herself. She wasn’t sure when it happened, but sometime around the opening credits of the third episode after she had ordered pizza, she found herself pressed into Joe’s side with his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Within fifteen minutes of that, Diana found herself straddling Joe, hands on either side of his face, lips moving in sync with his. Joe’s right hand found its way to her hair as her lips traveled to the hair on his jawline.
“I like this scruff,” Diana panted between kisses, starting at his chin and making her way back up to the sensitive spot beneath his ear. Joe’s left hand traveled to her waist, reaching under her t-shirt and making contact with her bare skin. “I’ll keep that in mind,” just loud enough for Diana to hear. Diana ground her hips into his lap, feeling him harden beneath her and his hand traveled to her breast, massaging it eagerly.
They continued kissing a moment longer until Joe grabbed hold of Diana and laid her down on the couch. His lips found her neck and he asked, “Is this okay?” as he shifted his weight to not crush the woman below him, his left hand returned to its place under her shirt. “Take this off,” Joe said, gesturing to the material. Diana complied. “Couldn’t be better,” Diana sighed as Joe nipped lightly at her collarbone, tongue following shortly after his teeth.
“I’m sure there’s always room for improvement,” his voice laced with lust and arrogance. Just as Diana was about to ask what he meant, Joe’s hand moved from her breast to the waistband of her sweatpants.
With a nod of Diana’s head, Joe’s hand dipped beneath the waistband of both her sweatpants long fingers gently brushing her clit through her panties. A soft moan left Diana’s lips as she leaned forward to connect her lips to Joe’s again. His fingers teased her, using his thumb and forefinger to play with the material separating him from her core. Lifting her hips hoping Joe would get the hint, she pressed her core firmly against his fingers.
“More,” she breathed. Joe pulled the fabric aside and his fingers were instantly met with the slick wetness of Diana’s arousal. Sliding his middle finger along her slit, he brought it up to her clit and began to rub. Pleasure clouded Diana’s thoughts, Joe’s voice asking her if he could take her pants off barely making it through haze. She lifted her hips and pulled the material down her legs as Joe sat up, tugging his shirt over his head.
Joe stared at her for a moment, taking in the sight in front of him. Laying in only her black lace panties, Diana was too busy enjoying her own view to shy away from the hunger Joe was staring at her with. Joe was clearly a man who took care of his body and it showed. She was in awe.
Before Diana could process the definition of his muscles, Joe had resumed his position next to her, covering her lips with another kiss. Then, without hesitation, he took her left nipple in her mouth. Diana moaned again, arousal red hot between her legs. It wasn’t long until Joe’s mouth began moving downward again, leaving kisses until he got to Diana’s hip bones.
“Can I?” Joe asked, staring up hungrily at Diana. Hesitant, Diana thought it over for a second. She had only received oral three times in her past relationship as her ex had found numerous reasons to avoid the act, most of them criticisms of Diana. Everything from she was unattractive to she was too picky when it came to the way he did it. Trying to shake thoughts of her ex from her head, Diana reassured herself that every signal Joe had given her had proved he wanted to do this. Finally, she nodded her head.
Wasting no time after getting her consent, Joe placed his lips around Diana’s clit and began sucking. Instinctively, her hips bucked into him, eager for more pleasure. Diana felt Joe smile into her skin, then a finger slid into her while he continued to suck and lick at her.  After some movement, Joe added another finger, pausing a moment to help her get used to the width.
Diana tried to clear her mind, looking down at the man between her legs. His fingers were moving inside of her, curling to hit a spot inside of her that she seemed rather receptive to the first time he hit it. A warm tension was pooling in the pit of her stomach as she tried to clear any insecurities from her mind. “Fuck..” Joe’s mouth drew another slow moan out of Diana’s mouth. She leaned forward, propping herself up on her elbows. “As amazing as this feels- fuck. I don’t think that I’ll be able to- holy shit!- finish this way.” Joe pulled his face away from her core, licking his lips and shaking his head. “I think you underestimate my determination,” he stated. Not breaking eye contact, he dipped his head back down and placed another kiss on her clit and added another finger to the ones busy between her folds.
Joe’s hands and mouth continued in unison to work their magic until moments later when tension in her core began to build towards a peak and her body convulsed. She brought her hand to her mouth and bit down lightly as Joe’s teeth lightly grazed her clit. He used his free hand to rest against her hip bones, trying to hold her in place so he could help bring her to climax. Releasing her clit from his mouth, began to move his fingers with more purpose, trying to match the pace that Diana was trying to set. 
“Fuck. Fuck! Joe, I think I’m going to-” Diana was cut off by her orgasm. Joe continued to pump his fingers into her as he peppered kisses on her forehead. Warmth radiated through her body, starting at her core and rippling from her head to her toes. “That’s right, baby. Just let it happen,” he encouraged as Diana let herself give in to the sensation. 
Taking a deep breath and opening her eyes, Diana was staring into Joe’s blue eyes. “Thank you. I promise you did not need to do that” Diana whispered, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her. “I didn’t have to, I wanted to,” his response helped ease her worries. “Besides, I didn’t want to not live up to what was advertised,” he joked, referencing the interview Ja’Marr had given. Just then, the doorbell rang indicating that the pizza they delivered had arrived. 
An hour later, Joe and Diana had devoured an entire pizza and had spent the entire time deep in conversation. Trying to avoid bringing up what just happened, Diana kept the topics focused on friends and growing up. She learned about Joe’s parents and his brothers and heard what it was like to grow up in a relatively small town in Ohio, while she told Joe about how she grew up in Philadelphia, her mom leaving before she turned 10, and her dad passing away a few years ago. It felt almost relieving to have someone ask questions about the things she actually cared about.
It wasn’t long before Joe’s phone started ringing from its spot on the coffee table. Joe stood up and walked out of the room to take the call. It was a quarter till six, meaning that Joe’s flight left in less than 5 hours. Diana’s head began swimming with contradicting thoughts, sad that he had to leave soon and fear of what that meant.
When Joe ended the call, he walked back into the room, looking at his phone. “Apparently, I should leave in no more than ten minutes to make it back in time to pack for our flight. I guess I should leave” Joe looked just as conflicted as Diana felt. “Will I get to see you again?”
Diana felt her heart start beating harder than it ever had. This man was a fucking dream. “Yeah, that’d be cool. I’d like that,” Diana nodded, walking Joe to the door. 
“Cool. I had a really good time today,” a smile covered Joe’s face when Diana turned a deep red. “I’m willing to repeat it anytime,” he said with a wink.
Diana shoved Joe slightly, arriving at the front door. Joe engulfed her in a hug, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. 
“But seriously, I would like to hang out again. I’ll text you, okay?” He was looking down at her now, smirk still on his face
With a nod, Diana pushed herself onto her tiptoes to kiss him goodbye. Making sure she locked the door behind him, she raced to her phone to send her sister a text.
Sending the message, Diana couldn’t help to smile to herself. She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted from this relationship with Joe, but she knew for sure she wanted more of it.
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Sorry for the delay, I just couldn't get this chapter right! Hope you all enjoy! If you've read this far, please let me know what you think, even on anon!
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Taglist: If you'd like to be added, let me know!
@therapycat21 @rd14 @wickedfun9
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deadal3x · 3 months
Text
PJO ORIGINAL CHARACTER PLAYLIST MASTERPOST
All my OCs playlists compiled into one place! I wanna preface this with a reminder that not all these playlists have a lot of songs- I am always adding songs to them, if fact.
some just are shorter than others, currently. :D
There's this Form where you can recommend songs for OCS!
Damien Monroe (and his other 2 playlists. 1 2)
Joseph Monroe
Abigail Monroe
Cathy Monroe
Joseph Monroe JR
Grayson Bailey
Matilda Bailey
Canobie Nikolaevich Volkov
Ophelia Collins
Alexander Wayne
Audrey Wayne
Amanda Wayne
Pandora Bates-Wayne
Jasper Jay Chase
Simon McCarthy
Melody McCarthy
Camille Jones
Sirona Lewis
Warren O'Connoly
Wyman O'Connoly
Aster Williams
Juile Thatcher
Lake Wilson
Winnie McKay
Evangeline McCormick
Onyx Odette
Casey Legend
Yasmine Taylor
Melanie Green
Moriah Thompson
Averi Newman
Mitchell Castello-Sanchez
Lucius Marcus
Evreya Atiloe
Carmen Gonzalez
Ava Madden
Justin Golde
Marion Crane
Marjorie Joseph
Meghan Fletcher
Zane Hill
Elliott Taylor
James Wilson
Dakoda Calian
Jun Zhang AKA Noah Zhang
John Miller
Henry Whitelock
Levi Atlas
Jameson Connors
Forrest Merrick
Micha Smith
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godsdefied-archive · 6 months
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muse list under cut. canon doesn't exist.
AVATAR THE LAST AIRBENDER.
(    * azula.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * katara.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * ty lee.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * yue.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * zuko.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
BALDUR’S GATE 3. most muses also have a bg3 verse, just ask!
(    * arabella.    )    tba/animated, multiship (pan) —  original, irredeemable durge, drow/druid.
(    * asteria.    )    animated, multiship (pan) —  original, tav, githyanki/wizard.
(    * astarion ancunin.    )    adam brody/animated, multiship (pan).
(    * balduran / “the emperor”.    )    animated, multiship (pan).
(    * enver gortash.    )    animated, multiship (pan).
(    * gale dekarios.    )    michael huisman/animated, multiship (pan).
(    * halsin.    )    henry cavill/animated, multiship (pan).
(    * mystra.    )    multiple, primarily anne hathaway/animated, multiship (pan).
(    * orin the red.    )    animated, multiship (pan).
(    * raphael.    )    animated, multiship (pan).
(    * rosalie hale.    )    dianna agron, multiship (bi).
BROADWAY.
(    * annalise hughes.    )    fandomless. zendaya, multiship (bi) —  original.
(    * cathy hiatt.    )    the last five years. anna kendrick, multiship (bi).
(    * connor murphy.    )    dear evan hansen. mike faist, multiship (bi).
(    * evan hansen.    )    dear evan hansen. ben platt, multiship (bi).
(    * mimi marquez.    )    rent. victoria justice, multiship (bi).
(    * zoe murphy.    )    dear evan hansen. laura dreyfuss, multiship (bi).
DC. typically written as being in the same universe as marvel.
(    * alexis kaye / “punchline”.    )    bae suzy, multiship (bi).
(    * arthur fleck / “the joker”.    )    multiple, primarily joaquin phoenix, multiship (straight).
(    * harleen quinzel / “harley quinn”.    )    margot robbie / lady gaga, multiship (bi).
(    * pamela isley / “poison ivy”.    )    debby ryan, multiship (bi).
(    * rose wilson / “ravager”.    )    tba, multiship (bi).
(    * tara markov / “terra”.    )    tba, multiship (bi).
HAZBIN HOTEL.
(    * alastor / “radio demon”.    )    animated, ?.
(    * anthony / “angel dust”.    )    animated, multiship (gay).
(    * charlie morningstar.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * lucifer morningstar.    )    animated, multiship (straight).
(    * vaggie.    )    animated, multiship (lesbian).
LEAGUE OF LEGENDS / ARCANE. can & will be adapted to both marvel & bg3 if needed!
(    * jinx.    )    margot robbie/animated, multiship (bi).
(    * neeko.    )    gemma chan / animated, multiship (lesbian).
(    * seraphine.    )    jessica henwick / animated, multiship (bi).
(    * xayah.    )    emma stone / animated, multiship (bi).
MARVEL.
(    * ava starr / “ghost”.    )    hannah john-kamen, multiship (bi).
(    * bruce banner / “the incredible hulk”.    )    mark ruffalo, multiship (bi).
(    * bucky barnes / “the winter soldier”.    )    ➝ located at wintersghst.
(    * christine palmer.    )    rachel mcadams, multiship (bi).
(    * clint barton / “hawkeye”.    )    justin hartley, multiship (bi).
(    * estelle fulbright.    )    niki koss, multiship (bi) —  original.
(    * eugene roe.    )    shane taylor, multiship (straight).
(    * felicia hardy / “black cat”.    )    liv morgan, multiship (bi).
(    * garou / “hero hunter”.    )    kento yamazaki, multiship (bi).
(    * gwen stacy / “ghost-spider”.    )    multiple, primarily emma mackey, multiship (bi).
(    * juliette ferrars.    )    multiple, primarily anjelica bette fellini, multiship (bi).
(    * levi tate / “cloak of levitation”.    )    yvonne strahovski, multiship (bi) —  original.
(    * liz allan.    )    paulina singer, multiship (bi).
(    * natalia romanova / “natasha romanoff” / “black widow”.    )    multiple, primarily lauren german, multiship (bi).
(    * olivia stark / “captain america’s shield”.    )    rashida jones, multiship (bi) —  original.
(    * peter parker / “spider-man”.    )    andrew garfield, multiship (bi).
(    * ronald spiers.    )    matthew settle, multiship (bi).
(    * roxanne lewis.    )    katelyn nacon, multiship (bi).
(    * stephen strange / “doctor strange”.    )    dev patel, multiship (bi).
(    * steve rogers / “captain america”.    )    chris evans, multiship (bi) but primarily in a relationship with holly.
(    * t’challa udaku / “black panther”.    )    multiple, including chadwick boseman, multiship (bi).
(    * tony stark / “iron-man”.    )    robert downey jr, singleship (strnza).
(    * tori beaugrand.    )    multiple, primarily emilia clarke, multiship (bi).
(    * wanda maximoff / “scarlet witch”.    )    franciska farkas, multiship (bi).
MAYANS MC.
(    * angel reyes.    )    clayton cardenas, multiship (bi) but primarily married to eliza.
(    * antonia pena.    )    alexandra barreto, multiship  (bi).
(    * bishop losa.    )    michael irby, multiship (bi).
(    * coco cruz.    )    richard cabral, multiship (bi) but primarily dating hope or in a struggleship with ravenna.
(    * creeper vargas.    )    joseph raymond lucero, multiship (straight).
(    * eliza kardel.    )    inbar lavi, multiship (bi) —  original, taking her off sophie’s hands.
(    * ez reyes.    )    jd pardo, multiship (straight) but primarily dating gaby or sofia.
(    * felipe reyes.    )    edward james olmos, selectively multiship (straight).
(    * inez navarro.    )    melissa barrera, multiship (bi) —  original.
(    * johanna juhlin.    )    erika linder, singleship (thehollyverse) —  original.
(    * katie “kody” mcneill.    )    stella maeve, multiship (bi).
(    * kevin jimenez.    )    maurice compte, multiship (straight).
(    * leticia cruz.    )    emily tosta, multiship (bi).
(    * marisol reyes.    )    jamie lynn sigler / gloria estefan, selectively multiship (straight).
(    * manny.    )    manny montana, multiship (straight).
(    * mayra reyes.    )    samantha boscarino, multiship (bi) —  original.
(    * miguel galindo.    )    danny pino, multiship (bi).
(    * nestor oceteva.    )    gino vento, multiship (bi).
(    * sofia.    )    andrea cortes, multiship (bi).
(    * taza romero.    )    raoul max trujillo, multiship (bi).
(    * tessa alvarez.    )    daniella pineda, multiship (bi) —  original.
(    * xiomara ramos.    )    sofia carson, singleship (thehollyverse) —  original.
(    * zoe davis.    )    lauren cohan, singleship (untilthcyrot) —  original.
MISCELLANEOUS FANDOMS.
(    * ally maine.    )    a star is born. lady gaga, multiship (bi).
(    * ban.    )    seven deadly sins. animated, multiship (bi).
(    * dante myers.    )    fandomless. jeremy allen white, multiship (bi) —  original.
(    * daphne blake.    )    scooby doo. abigail cowan, multiship (bi).
(    * hawk.    )    seven deadly sins. animated, no shipping.
(    * john wick.    )    john wick. keanu reeves, multiship (straight).
(    * liliana bennett.    )    fandomless. elise eberle, multiship (bi) —  original.
( * miley stewart / "hannah montana". ) hannah montana. miley cyrus, multiship (bi).
(    * rhaenyra targaryen.    )    house of the dragon. emma d’arcy, multiship (straight).
(    * robb stark.    )    game of thrones. richard madden, multiship (straight).
(    * velma dinkley.    )    scooby doo. sarah hyland, multiship (lesbian).
NARUTO.
(    * akimichi choji.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * deidara.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * fuu.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * gaara.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * hidan.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * hoshigaki kisame.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * hyuga hinata.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * inuzuka kiba.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * kaguya kimimaro.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * kankuro.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * konan.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * nara shikamaru.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * nohara rin.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * orochimaru.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * sakon & ukon.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * sasori.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * tayuya.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * uchiha itachi.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * yamanaka ino.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
(    * yuki haku.    )    animated, multiship (bi).
SONS OF ANARCHY.
(    * bobby munson.    )    mark boone jr, multiship (straight).
(    * candy eglee.    )    blake lively, multiship (bi).
(    * chibs telford.    )    tommy flanagan, multiship (bi).
(    * clay morrow.    )    ron perlman, singleship (murkyhazed).
(    * galen o’shay.    )    timothy v murphy, multiship (straight).
(    * happy lowman.    )    david labrava, multiship (bi) but primarily married to juniper.
(    * herman kozik.    )    kenny johnson, multiship (bi).
(    * jax teller.    )    charlie hunnam, multiship (straight).
(    * jimmy o’phelan.    )    titus welliver, multiship (straight).
(    * juice ortiz.    )    theo rossi, singleship (winterslght).
(    * kendra kozik.    )    ➝ located at hopeincarnaet.
(    * lowell harland jr.    )    cody christian, multiship (straight).
(    * lyla winston.    )    winter ave zoli, multiship (bi).
(    * marcus alvarez.    )    emilio rivera, multiship (straight).
(    * nero padilla.    )    jimmy smits, multiship (straight).
(    * samara wellerstein.    )    halston sage, singleship (thehollyverse) —  original.
(    * tig trager.    )    kim coates, multiship (pan).
(    * wendy case.    )    drea de matteo, multiship (bi).
STAR WARS.
(    * alara kitan.    )    halston sage, multiship (bi).
(    * bb-8.    )    animated, no shipping.
(    * ben solo / “kylo ren”.    )    adam driver, multiship (bi).
(    * jyn erso.    )    felicity jones, multiship (bi).
(    * qi’ra.    )    emilia clarke, multiship (bi).
THE WALKING DEAD.
(    * amy harrison.    )    multiple, primarily isabel may, multiship (straight).
(    * beth greene.    )    emily kinney, multiship (straight).
(    * brian blake / “philip” / “the governor”.    )    david morrissey, multiship (straight)
(    * hana jeong.    )    pom klementieff, multiship (lesbian) —  original.
(    * lizzie samuels.    )    brighton sharbino, no shipping.
(    * negan.    )    jeffrey dean morgan, multiship (straight).
(    * shane walsh.    )    jon bernthal, multiship (straight).
(    * siddiq.    )    avi nash, multiship (straight).
(    * sophia peletier.    )    multiple, primarily madison lintz, no shipping.
WWE.  kayfabe only!
(    * aj lee.    )    aj lee, multiship (bi).
(    * blair davenport.    )    blair davenport, multiship (bi).
(    * brie bella.    )    brie bella, multiship (bi).
(    * cm punk.    )    cm punk, singleship (ruinreigns).
(    * damian priest.    )    damian priest, multiship (bi).
(    * ilja dragunov.    )    ilja dragunov, multiship (bi).
(    * liv morgan.    )    ➝ located at 0blivion.
(    * jimmy uso.    )    jimmy uso, singleship (thr0whands).
(    * roman reigns.    )    roman reigns, multiship (bi).
(    * seth rollins.    )    seth rollins, multiship (bi).
(    * tama tonga.    )    tama tonga, multiship (bi).
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miblife · 8 months
Text
Statement Begins AU - Full Cast
This is every character in the Statement Begins AU, alongside the content creator that plays them, and the SMP (if one) that they are referenced from/who they are
This list will be updated when characters/surnames are revealed (yes I should've done this ages ago oops-)
WARNING: Very long, could have spoilers
Aimsey Machen - Aimsey - Dream SMP
Alistair E. Rete - Eret - Dream SMP
Albrecht M. Seiben - DocM77 - Hermitcraft
Alex Quiroz - Quackity - Dream SMP/QSMP
Alyssa Found - ItsAlyssa - Dream SMP
Anthony B. Stat - Bigbst4tz2 - Life Series
Anthony Frost - Antfrost - Dream SMP
Antoine Daniels - Antoine Daniels - QSMP
Apollo Kew-Nye - Apokuna - Outsiders SMP
Arin Videgain - Luzu/Arin the AI - QSMP
Ash Kabosu - Ash Kabosu - Member of the band Lovejoy
Baghera Jones - Baghera Jones - QSMP
Bagi Brito - Bagi - QSMP
Baillie Squid - iBallisticSquid
Beau Tye - Beautie - Origins SMP
Becky Amon - Bekyamon - Outsiders SMP
Berwynne Oliver-Ortiz - Bdoubleo100 - Hermitcraft/Life Series
Bill Zoe - Billzo - Origins SMP
Blake Halo - Badboyhalo - QSMP
Bobby Guerrero - Bobby the Egg - QSMP
Boyd Halo - Badboyhalo - Dream SMP
Brice Solace/The Golden - GoldSolace - Associated with Team Crafted
Callahan Reindere - Callahan - Dream SMP
Callum Cepeka - SeaPeaKay - Dream SMP
Caroline Puffy - CaptainPuffy - Dream SMP
Cathy Gamre - KatherineElizabeth - Empires SMP Season 2
Celso Brito - Cellbit - QSMP
Chayanne Merlo - Chayanne the Egg - QSMP
Cleo Moros - ZombieCleo - Hermitcraft/Life Series
Connor Pants - ConnorEatsPants - Dream SMP
Crumb - Cuptoast - Artist/Animator that is close with Ranboo, Tubbo, CaptainSparkles and more
Danny Deo - TimeDeo - SMP Earth
Dapper Halo - Dapper the Egg - QSMP
Duante Pac - Pac/Tazercraft - QSMP
Dylan Enay - BoomerNA - Dream SMP
Elaina Exxee - ElainaEXE - MCC
Eloise Soup - SoupforEloise - Outsiders SMP
Em Ada - Empanada the Egg - QSMP
Eryn Ciber-Onix - Cyberonix - Dream SMP
Ethan Hoslab - Ethoslab - Hermitcraft/Life Series
Étoile Sauveterre - Étoiles - QSMP
Eva Suma - Evil Xisuma - Hermitcraft
Felicia Symmetry - FalseSymmertry - Hermitcraft
Felipe Gênero - Feelps - QSMP
Finn Star - F1nn5ter - MCC/Idots SMP
Fitz Emsens - FitMC - QSMP
Forden Whip - FWhip - Empires SMP Season 1
Freddie Linu - Badlinu - Origins SMP
Fundy Soot - Fundy - Dream SMP
Gabriel Acho - ggAcho - Rats SMP/Outsiders SMP
Gem Tay - Geminitay - Empires SMP Season 1
George Found - Georgenotfound - Dream SMP
Gracie Hey - Graecie - Outsiders SMP
Grian Watcher - Grian - Hermitcraft/Life Series/Yandere High School
Hannah Rose - HannahxxRose - Dream SMP
Harry Bomb - HBomb94 - Dream SMP
Hermes Stratakis - Hermes - Empires SMP Season 2
Hydd Tyzed - Hypnotizd - Hermitcraft
Ira Party - IronMouse - QSMP
Irvyn Jevin - iJevin - Hermitcraft
Isak Åttafem - Iskall85 - Hermitcraft
Ivory Cello - IvoryCello
Jack Manifold - Jack Manifold - Dream SMP
Jaiden Annie Mason - JaidenAnimations - QSMP
James Marriott - James Marriott - Origins SMP
Jason Universe/The Universe - MinecraftUniverse - Team Crafted
Jason Vurb - Vurb - Idots SMP
Jennifer Tae - GeminiTay - Hermitcraft/Life Series/Empires SMP Season 2
Jerome A. Essef/The Axe - JeromeASF - Team Crafted
Jimmy Major - SolidarityGaming - Empires SMP Season 1/Life Series
Joe Everse - Joey Graceffa - Empires SMP Season 2
Joe Hills - Joe Hills - Hermitcraft
Joel S. Bean - SmallishBeans - Empires SMP Season 1/Life Series
Joey Graceffa - Joey Graceffa - Empires SMP Season 1
Joey T. Tiss - Joeyish/Taurtis - Yandere High School
Jonathan Schlatt - Jschlatt - Dream SMP
Jordan Sparks - CaptainSparkles - MCC
Juana Fuentes-Flipper - JuanaFlippa the Egg - QSMP
Junior Puffy - Jr. the Totem - Dream SMP
Karl Jacobs - KarlJacobs - Dream SMP
Katherine Elizabeth - KatherineElizabeth - Empires SMP Season 1
Kazmer Rallis - Keralis - Hermitcraft
Kristin Oneza nee Rosales - Kristin/Mumza - Dream SMP/Philza's wife
Krow - Krow - Outsiders SMP
Larry Zarah - LazarBeam - Dream SMP
Leo Siete - Leonarda the Egg - QSMP
Levi Athon - Leviathon - Friends with Purpled
Likha Sadiri - SAD-ist - Artist/Animator heavily associated with the Dream SMP
Lizzie Bean - LDShadowLady - Empires SMP Season 1/Life Series
Luke Bedars - Punz - Dream SMP
Lyarrah Lyve - LyarrahLive - The Hermitcraft Recap
Mariana Fuentes-Flipper - ElMariana - QSMP
Martyn L. Woods - InTheLittleWood - Life Series
Maurice Ayka - Mohwee - Outsiders SMP
Max Ithza - Mithzan
Maximus Agurto - Maximus - QSMP
Maya Sings - MagicSings - Outsiders SMP
Megumi Horiuchi - Gumi - MCC
Michael McChill - Michael McChill - Dream SMP
Michelle Puffy - Michelle the Piglin - Dream SMP
Mikhael Elo - Mike/Tazercraft - QSMP
Missael Mero - MissaSinfonia - QSMP
Mitch Baja/The Bow - BajanCanadian - Team Crafted
Mr Dreamer - Dream - Dream SMP
Myer Sosa - MythicalSausage - Empires SMP Season 1
Niki Hachu - Nihachu - Dream SMP
Noah Puffy - FoolishGamers - Dream SMP/QSMP
Noel T. Blade - Technoblade - Dream SMP
Oli Sound - OrionSound - Empires SMP Season 2/Afterlife SMP
Olive Sleep - OliveSleepy - Rats SMP
Oliver Jumbo - MumboJumbo - Hermitcraft/Life Series
Orion Ayka - Oeca - Outsiders SMP
Oscar Goodtimes - Goodtimeswithscar - Hermitcraft/Life Series
Owen Agarci - OwengejuiceTV - Outsiders SMP
Panos Stratakis - Smallishbeans - Empires SMP Season 2
Pause - PauseUnPause - Close friends with Etho and VintageBeef
Pearl Moon - PearlescentMoon - Hermitcraft/Life Series
Pepe Toro - Pepito the Egg - QSMP
Pete Hutt - Petezahutt - MCC
Phillip Oneza - Philza - Dream SMP/QSMP
Pierre Bedars - Purpled - Dream SMP
Piper Riffs - Pixlriffs - Empires SMP Season 1/The Hermitcraft Recap
Pomme Jones - Pomme the Egg - QSMP
Ponlok Drops - DropsByPonk - Dream SMP
Prism A. Reana - Prismarina - Witchcraft SMP
Quentin Kips/The Fish - HuskyMudkipz - Team Crafted
Quentin Up - 5Up - MCC
Ramón Emsens - Ramon the Egg - QSMP
Ranell B. Loved - Ranboo - Dream SMP
Redd Onos - Redoons - Outsiders SMP
Ren Dog - Rendog - Hermitcraft/Life Series
Rhianna Soot - SootRhianna - Soothouse/Nihachu's roommate
Richa Gênero - Richarlyson the Egg - QSMP
Rio Guerrero - Roier - QSMP
Rodor Essvi - ImpulseSV - Hermitcraft/Life Series
Rose B. Pie - Rasbi - Outsiders SMP
Ross Pall - Yourpalross/HouseOwner
Rubén Elenes - Rubius - QSMP
Sally Salmon - Sally the Salmon - Dream SMP
Sam Aweman - Awesamdude - Dream SMP
Sam Gladiator - SamGladiator - Yandere High School
Sammy Ferrish - Snifferish - Rats SMP
Saphna Halo - Sapnap - Dream SMP
Sarah-Alex Brown - Salex - Yandere High School
Scott S. Major - Smajor1995/Dangthatsalongname - Empires SMP Season 1/Life Series
Sebastian Snag - SneegSnag - Origins SMP
Shelby Shrub - Shubble - Empires SMP Season 1
Shell B. Moore - Shubble - Empires SMP Season 2
Shelly Kidd - ImASquidKid - Hypixel/Close friends/rivals with Technoblade
Skipp Leman - Skizzleman - Life Series
Skye Mon Starr - Stressmonster101 - Hermitcraft
Slime - Slimecicle - Dream SMP
Sloy X. Pevtsov - SloyXP - The Hermitcraft Recap
Sunny Side - Sunny the Egg - QSMP
Sydney Nia - Squidney80 - Outsiders SMP
Sylvee Wiya - Sylveey - MCC
Tallulah Ash - Talullah the Egg - QSMP
Tango Teck - TangoTek - Hermitcraft/Life Series
Ted Nivison - Ted Nivison - Close friends with Slimecicle, Jschlatt and Wilbur Soot
The Blacksmith - Eddie the Rabbit - Empires SMP Season 2
The Goblin - FWhip - Empires SMP Season 2
The Mayor - LDShadowLady - Empires SMP Season 2
The Sorcerer - Setosorcerer - TeamCrafted
The Sunflower - MythicalSausage - Empires SMP Season 2
Thomas F. Chef - TinfoilChef/TFC - Hermitcraft
Tilín Quiroz - Tilín the Egg - QSMP
Tina Cat - TinaCat - Dream SMP/QSMP
Toby Sparks - Tubbo - Dream SMP/QSMP
Tommy Inet - TommyInnit - Dream SMP
Trisha Symmetry - FalseSymmetry - Empires SMP Season 2
Valero Siete - Vegetta777 - QSMP
Vidal Ator - Forevito - Former member of QSMP
Vikk Wontufree - Vikkstar123 - Dream SMP
Wally Bear - WallyBear - Friends with Purpled
Welles Knight - WelsKnight - Hermitcraft
Wilbur Soot - Wilbur Soot - Dream SMP
William Ash - Wilbur Soot - QSMP
Willow M. Veep - WillowMVP - Rats SMP
Willy Rex - WillyRex - QSMP
Xander B. Craft - xBCrafted - Hermitcraft
Xavi Suma - Xisumavoid - Hermitcraft
Xornoth Major - Xornoth - Empires SMP Season 1
XXXXXX
Yuki Akamine - SirCutieYuki - Yandere High School
Zak Ahmed - Skeppy - Dream SMP
Zed Play - Zedaph - Hermicraft
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tracichee · 2 years
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From last week: A joyous night at the National Book Awards. So happy to spend time with my fellow judges from 2021, Leslie Connor, Pablo Cartaya, Ibi Zoboi & our fearless leader Cathie Mercier; to sit next to my fellow 2020 finalist Candice Iloh; to hear such empowering & inspiring speeches on the importance of justice, equity, and freedom for readers, writers, librarians, educators, and publishing workers; and of course to see Sabaa Tahir win the National Book Award for Young People’s Literature! ✨
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tanjavda · 1 year
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Let’s Play Strangetown+
Introducing the families and how I’ve set them up at the start of my Strangetown+ uberhood. 
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La Fiesta Tech - Desert Dormitory
* Gunnar Roque - 20 years old - Romance/Fortune * Jasmine Rai - 19 years old - Popularity * Caleb Hart - 18 years old - Knowledge/Pleasure
Notes: Jasmine has a younger brother, Jonas, who will move to college in round 1. Caleb Hart is the younger brother of Matthew Hart.
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La Fiesta Tech - Oasis Dormitory
* Matthew Hart - 21 years old - Family/Knowledge * Sarah Love - 20 years old - Family/Romance * Stella Terrano - 19 years old - Knowledge/Popularity
Notes: I created a siblingrelation between Sarah Love and the Pleasantview police officer Demi Love. I also gave them a little brother, Connor, who will move in during round 2.
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La Fiesta Tech - Aridesta Drive
* Cathy Scott - 19 years old - Fortune/Popularity
Cathy is the fiance of Frances J Worthington. She’s living in the house he lives in when you start La Fiesta Tech. During round 1, Frances’ sister will move in with Cathy.
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Académie Le Tour - Casteroff Dormitory
* Keira Beare - 21 years old - Knowledge/Popularity * Martin Ruben - 20 years old - Knowledge * Jane Stacks - 19 years old - Family/Knowledge * Monica Bratfort - 18 years old - Knowledge/Family
Notes: Keira Beare is the older sister of Kevin Beare, she’s dating Leod McGreggor. I created 2 younger siblings for Monica Bratfort, they will move in during round 1 and 2.
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Académie Le Tour - Romara Dorms
* Blossom Moonbeam - 21 years old - Family/Popularity * Joshua Ruben - 20 years old - Fortune/Pleasure * Kevin Beare - 19 years old - Family/Knowledge
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Parejas en mi AU
Ash (33) y Dawn (31). Hijos: Gemelas de 12 años (Akiko y Akira) y un hijo de 10 años (Yasuo)
Paul y Zoey (34). Hijos: El mayor de 11 años (Yoshito) e hija de 9 años (Kaede)
Reggie (38) y Maylene (36). Hijos: El mayor de 15 años (Takeo) , el del medio de 12 años (Kazuya) y la menor de 10 años (Kasumi)
Brook (38) y Olivia (37). Hijos: El mayor de 15 años (Asahi) , los gemelos de 14 años (Luano y Reo), el cuarto de 13 años (Huali), las gemelas de 12 años (Ani y Hani), los mellizos de 11 años (Kaleo y Keola), la novena de 10 años (Hitomi) , la décima de 9 años (Kalea) y el menor de 8 años años (Koi)
James y Jessie (41). Hijos: La mayor de 15 años (Nomi) y la menor de 13 años (Reiko)
Tracey (37) y Misty (35). Hijos: El mayor de 13 años (Kaito), el del medio de 11 años (Mizu) y la menor de 10 años (Kano)
Kenny y Leona (31). Hijos: Un hijo de 11 (Kenji) años
Drew y May (34). Hijos: Trillizos de 13 años (Katsuo, Daiki y Nyoko)
Clemont (34) Serena (33). Hijos: La mayor de 10 años (Levi) y la menor de 8 años(Sasha)
Max y Bonnie (26). Hijos: Un hijo de 3 años (Zentaro)
Cilan (37) e Iris (34). Hijos: Trillizos de 12 años (Kimura, Jiro y Mako) y la hija menor de 11 años ( Mayumi)
Kiawe y Mallow (32). Hijos: el mayor de 11 años (Maui), la del medio de 10 (Malia) y el menor de 9 años(Nakoa)
Gladio (33) y Lana (32). Hijos: Trillizos de 11 años (Keano, Keawe y Kekoa) y el menor de 9 años (Hani)
Tilo y Lillie (32). Hijos: la mayor de 9 años (Nohi) y el menor de 8 años (Masahiro)
Chris (32) adopta a su hijo cuando él tenia los 7 años, ahora tiene 15 años (Jiraiya)
Koharu y Gou (30). Hijos: La mayor de 8 años (Sakura) y la menor de 7 años (Saori)
Barry y Bianca (35). Hijos: Gemelos de 12 años (Kane y Katsuo)
Gary y Leaf (33). Hijos: El mayor de 12 años (Ikki) y el menor de 9 años (Shiro)
Cress (37) y Georgia (36). Hijos: Gemelas de 12 años (Emiko y Hayami)
Zeo y Burgundy (37). Hijos: Trillizos de 12 años (Alphonse, Bastian y Vincent)
Alan y Aria (35). Hijos: Una hija de 14 años (Camille)
Tierno y Shauna (33). Hijos: El mayor de 11 años (Bruno) y el menor de 10 años (Christophe)
Trevor y Nini (33). Hijos: El mayor de 14 años (Jean), la segunda de 12 años (Mélodie), el tercero de 11 años (Adrien) y la menor de 10 años (Lucie)
Sawyer y Miette (33). Hijos: Mellizos de 12 años (Adrienne y Luc)
Guzmán (56) y Plumeria (54). Hijos: El mayor de 17 años (Koa) y la menor de 16 años(Nalu)
Profesor Kukui y Burnet (56). Hijos: Un hijo de 16 años (Lei)
Lionel y Sonia (35). Hijos: El mayor de 11 años (Ethan) y el menor de 10 años (Noah)
Roy y Cathi (35). Hijos: La mayor de 11 años (Elizabeth) y la menor de 10 años (Amelia)
Hop y Gloria (32). Hijos: El mayor de 10 años  (Connor) y el menor de 7 años (Kyle)
Berto y Roxy (32). Hijos: La mayor de 10 años (Ema) y la menor de 7 años (Emily)
Víctor y Penny (32). Hijos: El mayor de 10 años (Seth) y el menor de 9 años (Zac)
Arven e Iono (36). Hijos: una hija de 12 años (Charlotte)
Trip (36) x Nemona (32). Hijos: El mayor de 12 años (Harry) y la menor de 8 años (Lilly)
N (38) x Anís (36). Hijos: La mayor de 14 años (Astrid), el del medio de 12 años (Conall) y la menor de 10 años (Alisa)
Matis x Faitsu (35). Hijos: El mayor de 11 años (Silver) y la menor de 7 años (Jenika)
Lucho x Liza (35). Hijos: un hijo de 11 años (Oliver)
Cheren (35)  x Oryza (41). Hijos: el mayor de 14 años (Leonardo) y la menor de 12 años (Venus)
Rizzo x Lía (35). Hijos: Una hija de 11 años (Jade)
Gold x Cristi (34). Hijos: Un hijo de 13 años (Akemi), la del medio de 12 años (Aoi) y la menor de 11 años (Amaya)
Silver (34) x Lyra (33). Hijos: La mayor de 13 años (Akane) y la menor de 11 años (Ima)
Bruno (33) x Ariana (32). Hijos: Una hija de 12 años (Aiko)
León x Angie (33). Hijos: El mayor de 12 años (Katashi) y el menor de 10 años (Akihiro)
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Interview: Catherine Talbot
Dossier:
Name: Catherine Talbot
Age: 58
Species: Werewolf
Circle: Night
Known Relationships: Connor Talbot I ( Husband ), Connor Talbot II & Clifford Talbot ( Sons ), Lilith Gaumond ( Mother-in-Law ), Esmeray Talbot ( Daughter-in-Law ), Cameron Kiskadden ( Former Brother-in-Law )
Interview:
What's your name?
“Help me with these groceries, baby,” the she-wolf says, words falling somewhere between a command and a request though it’d be impossible to decipher. “You don’t need my full name do you? The whole thing doesn’t really roll off the tongue if I say the first, middle and last. Catherine Talbot though— can you believe this guy put the eggs at the bottom?”
How do you know Tabitha Spencer?
“Tabitha Spencer,” she muses to herself, trying to recall as much as she was able from the night, “I might have had some light conversation with her, asked me to call her Tibby and I sat there wondering why when Tabby was right there. Anyhow, I couldn’t tell you much more besides that. She’s a bitten, you can tell, but not one of ours.”
How do you know Jose Alves Cruz?
Setting another bag aside, Cathy moves to the fridge, opening it and moving around its contents to better accommodate everything she’d bought on her grocery run. “Mayor of the unassuming majority. A thrall. A widow. Very much a politician,” she lists off, knowing nothing more than the very basics of a man who was all too inconsequential to her. Jose could have been beneficial if they were any other family, but the Talbots didn’t need the mayor in their pocket to exert their own control over Las Vegas; they preceded him and anyone else that would replace him thereafter. “The usual, I’d say.”
How do you know Hollis Fiala?
“The Wild Circle’s leader; they got shot that night, right?” For Cathy and the rest of them, it was in their best interest to know who was in power, whether that was directly above them or adjacently. Anyone of those people had a chance of becoming Orator though the Talbots could be expert lobbyists if they needed to be. A campaign funded by dirty money was a campaign still. “They’re heir to the Fae throne, I used to see them around Fenrir sometimes...talking to you.” 
Did you see the shot/what happened that night from your perspective?
Cathy lifts a hand to her ear, rubbing at the area, “I heard it, both of them. The first one was a little weird though, missing all the bits and pieces of a gunshot.” And she’d heard a few in her youth. “It hurt just the same though. Nothing like a close-range gunshot to make the ears tender...so you’ve got two shots, everyone running around like idiots and Rosie— you remember Rosie? She starts turning, and that itself becomes priority number one. Next thing you know, we’ve got thousands of dollars in property damage on our hands— Connor, you know that’s not where I put the spices, it’s one over.” 
When did you get the invitation for the party/know you were going to work it?
“It came in the mail, same as it always does. One of those things you pretend you’re unsure of attending, but it’s been marked in your calendar as a no-zone for any other events because the invitation comes like clockwork.” Nothing else about it. Events like these are par for the course with these positions of power; your husband becomes pack leader and more than ever, all those date nights turn into events like this. “Take notes for your future. Go on as many dates with your wife now, before you’re so booked your planner starts looking like a catering calendar,” she lets slip, words spoken without much thought as this conversation lulls her into some sense of normalcy.
Did you go with someone?
“Is this a serious question?” If it is or it isn’t, is of no consequence, it stops Catherine’s movements nonetheless. “Just for whoever else you’re interviewing, Connor, don’t ask a married wolf whom you know is married, if they attended such an event with some random someone. I went with my husband, your father, only man I’ll ever love, etc etc, I’m sure you would understand had I asked you if you went to your own party with someone.” And she doesn’t mean for those words to sound harsh but she’s only ever been caustic; abrasive even. “Something to think about.”
Do you own a gun/have you ever owned a gun?
“You know, I’d thought of it once, before I started dating your dad...didn’t live in the nicest area, but your grandmother thought guns made a wolf soft, docile. Why would you ever rely on a gun when Artemis gave you everything you’d ever need to defend yourself? She thought it was weakness or blasphemy and instead of letting any of us disrespect Artemis’ gifts like that, Elara Hemming taught me ten ways to kill a man with your teeth. So no, I’ve never owned a gun. There isn’t a single weapon in this house save its inhabitants.”
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esmerays · 2 years
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・゚* @connortalbot​​​​​
The Fae Folk were unique in an ever-growing plethora of ways, having been bestowed gifts and punishments by the Mother Below as they lived and loved and made a million little mistakes. 
A consequence for once such faux pas had the children of Her light stripped of the ability to spin dishonesties, their silver tongues weighed down by iron to mitigate the pandemonium borne from their tall tales. Most, if not all, of them had never told a lie without repercussion, and the ones that crossed the veil were drowning in confusion over a world that thrived in its untruths.
Movies and other media were an odd thing then, a string of fantastical realisms woven together for entertainment. And you know what? Esmeray had very much been one of the entertained, hanging off of an actor’s every word in whatever movie they’d decided to watch for the night— she had to give him credit for all his patience, with the way she’d interrupt a movie a thousand times with different questions about the human condition.
She liked the impractical parts the most, wherein these humans went through convoluted means to reach very simple ends. Like a Faerie climbing up a trellis to her husband’s bedroom window instead of the more pragmatic option. These films equated unfeasibility with romance, and who better than a Fae to do something so ridiculously backwards? 
It didn’t take her very long either, crocheted bag slung over her shoulder, filled to the brim with whatever she’d thought could bring Connor some levity. Some joy. 
Esme had stopped by the bullseye emporium beforehand, raiding the isles for whatever items made her think of her husband, some wooden skewers and a ton of other things she’d need for a little DIY project. A nearby McDonalds was next on her journey and the smell of it turned her stomach— but it’d been her decision to date a beautiful, carnivorous thing. The foul smells of fast food restaurants weren’t of much consequence if they brought a smile to his face. 
Cresting the top of the trellis, she pressed a hand against what she hoped was the right window ( Cathy Talbot, was a visit for another day ), and pulled it upwards until there was enough room to stick her head through. There he was in all his grounded glory, “loveling, I have done the arrivings,” she whispered.
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disorganizedkitten · 6 months
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We'll Take Our World By Storm Chapter 3
Harry Potter | 2021 | 9,191 | Ao3 | Previous | Masterlist | Next
 I hope that was fun. I certainly found it so. But for all these are children that are and will be important, I need to take you back to where we were before: Number Ten, Magnolia Crescent, Nineteen-Ninety-One. It’s around three in the afternoon by now, which sadly means that summer school is out.
 “I’ll go without you!” Harry threatens from the bottom of the stairs.
 “You’ll wait two minutes for me to finish this braid,” Fay snaps back. She’s in the upstairs bathroom, doing exactly that. She has one half of her hair braided from her neck down and then tied up into a loop, and is braiding the other half down her front.
 Harry sighs at the ceiling, and then jogs up the stairs. “Are you sure-“
 “I don’t need help,” Fay says tightly. Her next two folds are jerky, and then she takes a breath and the pattern evens out. She reaches the end, and glances over at Harry. “Can you hand me the pins?”
 Harry grabs a few bobby-pins and hands them to her one by one. Fay pins up the second braid, giving the effect of having a droopy bow made of hair tied at her neck. Harry sets the rest of the pins on the counter, and then hands Fay her bag. It’s an old messenger bag Vivian made when Fay started Primary School, based off Vivian’s own bag from Before. It has a lot of pockets for organization, and Regulus enchanted it not long after. Fay slings it over her shoulder, and gives him a look.
 “You have your card?”
 “Of course,” Harry pulls it out of his pocket and shows it off. Fay grins. She doesn’t check for hers, although she’s sure it’s in her bag. If it isn’t, Harry will let her check out books on his.
 Fay pounds down the stairs, darting past Harry to get to the bottom first. He gives a shout and follows, stumbling to a stop when he finds Vivian at the door. “Hi, Aunt Vivian.”
 “Leaving for real this time?” She teases. Vivian looks a lot like Fay, but her eyes are darker- brown, not silver. And Vivian doesn’t put in the work to keep her hair up beyond ponytails.
 Fay sticks out her tongue, bow-braids flopping around with her wide movements. “Yep! When do you want us back?”
 “Dinner time,” Vivian says. “Latest.”
 Harry gives a lazy two-finger salute, and Fay nods once. She’s been careful about that for years, and even when home time isn’t dinner time, they all refuse to be late without letting someone know - it’s why, despite being eleven, Fay has a flip phone in the pocket of her bag. Together, they aren’t in as much danger.
 “I’ve been called in for something, but Ian and Caspian are still here.” Vivian kisses their foreheads. 
 “Got it,” Fay says. All three leave the house at the same time, after the siblings call up goodbyes to Caspian and he discorporates to come swirl around them in a misty approximation of a hug.
 The two of them start walking east, waving to Vivian as she drives away. “I’m so glad we got your supplies when we got mine.”
 Harry snorts. “You’re just afraid of the celebrity rush.”
 “And for good reason,” Fay says with a scoff. “Ugh. Can you imagine the uproar?”
 Harry can, actually. It makes him giggle, a little wistful but mostly anxious and amused. “We’d play hide ‘n seek the entire trip.”
 “Ooh we should do that the next time we go!”
 Harry grins, apprehension forgotten. “We should! Make it a family day out, you know?”
 “Yes!”
 “Although Delphi isn’t allowed to shift.”
 “No, she should be,” Fay counters quickly, voice rising in her excitement. “And glamours should be allowed too. Remember how excited she’s been about finally getting into Ancient Runes for that project her and her friends are doing? And if we were actually avoiding someone, we’d use everything in our arsenal. Then we could try to pick people out using mannerisms and magic sense instead of our eyes!”
 “Fay, you’re a genius!”
 Fay grins and flicks her head back, causing her bow to bounce. “Well, I did grow up with you.”
 “Guess you had to catch up sometime.” Harry smirks. Fay splutters and then sticks her tongue out. “Race you to the library!” Harry takes off after sticking his tongue out in return.
 “Hey!” Fay yells, rushing after him.
 They stop running after a few minutes, and walk the rest of the mile and a half. Despite that, when they reach the building, Harry holds the door open for Fay and sticks his tongue out when he says he won. Fay makes a face, but ends up laughing.
 They spend an hour in the library, with Harry hunting down books and reading the first chapters of one while Fay works on the 200 piece puzzle in the entryway. Afterwards, the siblings decide to go to the park. Now, in their neighborhood, there are two parks, because it’s actually two neighborhoods with an access road between them. Magnolia Crescent is on the western side, and Privet Drive on the eastern. Sadly, the Library is also located to the east, about a mile and a half from the house.
 I suppose you wouldn’t know why them having to walk around Privet Drive is so terrible. We’ll get there. The point is, to go to park, Harry and Fay could either go to the eastern one, which is directly accessible from Wisteria Way, the access road that leads into a third neighborhood to the south. The highway is northwards. Or, they could walk back into Magnolia Crescent all the way, past their house, and down a set of houses towards the western park.
 They go to the eastern one, today.
 Harry finds a tree to read under, and Fay goes to swing. There’s another group of kids at the park, who drag Fay into a game of Groundies within minutes.
  "Is the paper-legend good?"
 Harry looks down at his visitor, and smiles. The little, still unnamed constrictor reaches her neck to lay her head across Harry's thigh. "Yes." He picks a blade of grass and puts it in his page, before flicking back to the start of the story.
  "What's it about?"
 "I'm not sure yet," Harry says. "It's called To Kill A Mockingbird."
  "Will you read it to me?"
  "Of course. Get comfy." Harry gives her a moment as he puts on his reading voice, something he learned in a household of storytellers. Even with the voice, he doesn’t read in english. He’s talking to a snake, so he translates to snake as he reads. It’s a skill not many have. "When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow. When it healed, and his fears of never being able to play football were assuaged-" here, the snake tapped Harry's arm twice with her tail, their signal for her having a question. "he was seldom self-conscious about his injury. His left arm was somewhat shorter than his right; when he stood or walked, the back of his hand was at right angles to his body, his thumb parallel to his thigh. He couldn't have cared less, so long as he could pass and punt." Harry tapped where he stopped once, and then looked at the snake. "Question?"
 "What's football?"
  "It's a game where we use our feet-" he gestures at his own "-to kick around a ball and score. Although I think this book is from America, where they call rugby football."
 "Why?"
 "I don't know," Harry says drily. "Americans don't think like proper snakes enough to clearly name things. They call football soccer. But you play the game by using your feet and a ball! Football!"
 "Like family-den," the little snake says sagely. Snakes don't bother with complex names- things are what they are. Harry is Speaker-Who-Reads and sometimes Speaker-Who-Reads-Human-Script if a snake wants to take the time. He was Wrong-Death-Cheater before, and some new snakes still call him that or Greater-Death-Cheater. Fay is Little-Death-Cheater, but before that she was Misspeaking-Hatchling. Adrian is Sun-Human-Nestfather, and Regulus Snake-Charmer or Large-Nestfather. (Sometimes he's Beastspeaking Human Hatchling Of Protector Predator Without Fur, but that's a proper society title among snakes). Caspian is Broken-Magic-Hatchling-Of-Snake-Charmer, or Night-Mist. Sometimes the names change, because the people do too.
  "Yes," Harry agrees.
 "Hey look, it's the Freak!"
  "Blubber-venom," the little snake hisses. Harry looks up, jaw clenched.
 A pudgy, white eleven year old with two chins and blonde hair is standing above him, grinning maliciously. Considering he's an eleven year old — and they can only hold so much maliciousness in their bodies — this is impressive.
 Of course, this is also Dudley Vernon Dursley, Harry’s maternal cousin, who was raised by 'perfectly normal' people with an abnormal hate for anything not in their worldview, so… Maybe it isn't that surprising.
 "When I got my name changed," Harry says drily, carefully closing the book as his snake friend retreats, "I'm very sure there wasn't an F anywhere in it."
 Dudley makes a face. His parents don't particularly care if he's intelligent, and puzzles were discontinued after his second tantrum over them.
 It's his friend Piers Polkiss who understands Harry's comeback instead, and snarls. "Freaks don't get to pick their nicknames, Freak."
 "Does the same rule apply to rats, Polkiss?" By this time, Harry has stood up, leaving his book on the ground with his snake and Fay's shoulder bag. 
 "You sound crazy when you hiss like that," Dursley says like an insult.
 "And you sound like an idiot anytime you open your mouth."
 Across the park, Fay finds her way down the stairs to open her eyes and make a face at Jess, who is climbing back onto the main playground floor from her position hanging outside the railing. Fay isn't tall enough to reach up and grab Jess' ankle. Michael, over at the swings, freezes, and then starts creeping back towards the main equipment. Fay sees him and starts towards him and the edge of the playground. "Groundies!"
 Michael groans, and Fay is about to run back to the playground when she spots Harry surrounded by her three least favorite neighbors. "On T!" Fay calls, abandoning the game in favor of supporting her brother.
 “Two Ten Groundies!” Michael calls, turning to the kids still playing.
 "Shut your mouth!" Dursley snarls as Fay comes up beside them.
 "What, scared he'll show everyone how much smarter he is?"
 Dudley skitters back from her, moments after Piers and Malcolm. Fay rolls her eyes, and shifts her shoulders so she’s ready to punch him.
 “No one asked for your opinion!” Malcolm snaps. Dudley is the leader, but he’s scared of magic while Piers is the Bugs Meany to Fay’s Sally Kimball.
 She’s still proud of that one, despite all three parental units giving matching lectures of “I get why you did it but it was still wrong, and next time don’t break your thumb.” ...Then again, maybe that’s why she’s still proud of it. “I doubt Harry asked for yours either, but here we are.”
 “If I wanted advice on good life decisions I’d just do the opposite of whatever you’d say,” Harry says, matching her tone. “But then again, to do that I’d have to listen to you in the first place.” Dudley growls. Harry clenches his fists but rolls his eyes. Fay taps her hand to his right before he folds his arms up to give off a decent unimpressed vibe. “Go read a book, Dursley. Or plant a tree, if you think you can do that without killing it. Make up for all the air you’re using.” Harry wants to say ‘the air you’re wasting,’ but he was raised properly and there are boundaries.
 “I’ll tell mum you were being freakish in the park!” Dudley threatens.
 This, after seven years outside of Petunia Dursley nee Evans’ custody, is a useless threat. “So? She can’t do anything about it.”
 Later, this gang will be the type to throw punches, but for now Dudley tries to shove Harry into the tree, and when Harry catches himself and Fay throws herself at Dudley, he screams and runs off. Piers follows, although Malcolm stays to sneer. “Careful Dunbar, next year we can arrest you for assault.”
 “I’d love to see that,” Fay threatens in return, swaying back to her feet. “Especially when you always start it. Maybe we’ll share a cellblock.”
 He sneers again but flounces off. Harry breathes out sharply, and Fay lets him grab her hand. He sits down and groans, pulling Fay with him. She lands beside him, but flops sideways onto his stomach quickly. 
  “I dislike that human,” the little constrictor says, poking her nose out from under Fay’s bag.
  “Me too,” Fay hisses. The constrictor starts climbing Fay’s face, and the girl lets her.
  “Hello Little-Death-Cheater.”
  “Hello,” Fay says, much of the hate leaving her tone. “Have you chosen a name yet?”
 “No,” she admits, pulling her tail up so she can curl on top of Fay’s chest. The constrictor doesn’t care which chest she’s on, the heartbeat is the same. “I want my speaker name to mean smart-wise-knowing-advice-old-has-seen-much.”
  “Athena? She’s the Greek goddess of wisdom, war strategy, and I think something else,” Harry offers. “Or Thoth, the Egyptian god of knowledge.”
 “I’ll consider them,” the constrictor says.
 Harry picks his book back up and opens it. “I’m gonna start again.”
 “Okay,” Fay says. She listens to a few paragraphs before the jitters start, and she gets up to go join back in on the game.
 “Are you trying to be a wrecking ball?” Caspian asks, watching Ian push his lego creation with all of his insignificant upper body strength.
 “No,” Ian says, eager to explain the story he is creating with blocks and dolls. “Bad guys knock down! Fire-fight fix!”
 “Ah,” Caspian says in his best sagely voice. He’s been dealing with little kids since he was nine, and is luckily still good at it. “Which ones are the bad guys?” Ian waves the two dolls in his hands. “And the good guys?” Ian sets down one of his dolls to point at three other dolls sitting on the ground. “I see. A good team.”
 Ian grins and turns back to his game. Caspian looks down at his sketchpad and turns away from the page of eye practice. The dolls’ designs are rather basic, but he can work with them. Caspian starts by sketching a collapsing building. Later, he’ll adapt designs for the heroes and villains and add them to the scene, but for now he works on his perspectives.
 Fay and Harry head home around five thirty. Most of their conversation over the short walk is light and random, led by Fay’s wandering focus and Harry egging her on.
 There’s one part though, that isn’t.
 “I hate him,” Fay says, glaring holes in Dudley’s back as he and his gang wait to cross the highway. Fay and Harry aren’t going to take the intersection, because Wisteria Way is a barely used road and really, they’d just waste time if they went north to the intersection and then back south towards Magnolia Crescent. “Sometimes I wish I could-” Fay’s mouth shuts with an angry clack.
 “If you say stab him, I’ll have to inform you that assault is still illegal,” Harry snarks. He loves his sister, and he doesn’t like his ‘cousin’, but Harry ignores them as much as he can, which is a lot more than Fay does. It’s not until Fay’s wide, extraneous movements stop in the middle of the road that Harry remembers. “Too soon?” he asks softly, taking a step back so he’s not leaving Fay behind.
 “No,” Fay says. Her voice is high, but her tone and expression are flat. Her fists are clenched. “It’s been four years. That’s plenty of time.” She sounds dead. Robotic, maybe, but mostly drained of emotion. As the Narrator, I can tell you that Fay is actually very upset. She’s already got ADHD, but the rushing in her ears isn’t that. Neither are her clenched fists, or the sudden ghost aches in her chest. No, that would be called PTSD.
 “You don’t have to rush through trauma recovery, Fay,” Harry says gently. “Or ignore it altogether. You certainly shouldn’t.” He’s treating her like a spooked animal, which is an accurate description. She’s a spooked fox right now.
 “You’re not my therapist.”
 “You don’t have a therapist.”
 “I’m fine,” Fay snaps, voice rising with the force she’s trying to put into the phrase. She starts walking again, faster now than before.
 “It’s okay if you’re not.”
 “You are,” Fay says bitterly.
 Harry scowls, keeping up easily. “That’s not the same thing and you know it.” He clenches his jaw before he can keep getting upset, and takes a breath instead. “And anyway, you’re wrong. I don’t think any of us are okay with what happened to you. You don’t have to pretend to be.”
 “I want to be!” Fay snaps, desperation coming through her tone at last. It gives her an air of life that she’d cut off minutes ago, especially when she turns to speak instead of staring straight ahead. “Papa doesn’t talk about as many cases anymore, I still can’t go to the basement, and I just want to be normal again!”
 Harry scoffs. He sounds derisive, but he’s hiding empathy. “Normal? Like the Perfectly Normal Dursleys? Like how it would be normal for a Black to be in Azkaban? Boring and casual?” Harry swallows his next scathing remark, because he’s trying to help Fay, not hurt her, and a guilt trip would hurt.
 “No! Yes!” She takes a deep breath and exhales harshly. “I just don’t want to worry,” she says softly. “I don’t want to freeze up and I don’t want any of you to have to watch your words around me.”
 Harry shrugs, and steps sideways to bump shoulders. “Like that’s any different from the rest of us,” he drawls. Fay laughs once, despite herself.
 “Fine, I’m normal for our household. Happy?”
 “Only if you are.”
 Fay closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Yeah. I will be. I have to be.” She opens her eyes and makes a face, her next thought slipping in and grabbing hold. “Ew. I’m never going to get a quiet moment at Hogwarts.”
 “You could go to Slytherin. People expect them to be creepy.”
 This time, Fay scoffs. “No thanks. Ambition? Eh, maybe. But cunning and the ability to live by word games? I’ll trip over my tongue way too much.”
 Harry shrugs. “If you say so.”
 “Besides, I thought you were going to Hufflepuff?”
 “Well yeah,” Harry says as if it’s obvious. “But the Sett is in the basement and the Den in the dungeons, so we’d be close. Certainly closer than if you go to your tower house.”
 Fay shrugs. “We’ll see.” This time she shoulder-checks him.
 I remember talking about the cores of the houses, but here is something you must remember: Few things stay the way they were intended. A civil rights group can become a terrorist gang. A refuge can become a prison or an exclusive area. Protests can turn into mass violence. Houses made for the sake of sitting like-minded children under certain teachers can become cliques. A treaty for peace can lead to inability to properly prosecute criminals. A shelter for lost animals can become their final home.
 Ambition became bigotry and cunning became manipulation. Daring became recklessness and Boldness became stubbornness. Kindness became weak-wills and acceptance became naivety. Curiosity became showing off and interest became strictness.
 Red became Heroes, Green became Villains, Yellow became Afterthoughts and Blue became Tools.
 These are not what the houses should be. 
 Thankfully, these are not quite what the graveyard siblings mean.
 “Would it help to try looser hairstyles?”
 Fay shakes her head. “No. I think- the hair thing is mine. Sure, the start was… that. But I like doing it. Even if no one else understands.”
 “Alright,” Harry acquiesces easily. He knows his sister, but at their hearts, technically, they’re different people. Hearts really isn’t the right word here. Cores, perhaps? Yes, I think so. Fay and Harry are different people at their cores, and so Harry trusts Fay to choose what she thinks is best. Usually.
 They are children. They can, have, and will make mistakes.
 Thankfully, this isn’t one of them. Harry was correct earlier when he said recovery can’t be rushed, and this is him refusing to rush Fay’s.
 After a few steps, Fay starts talking quietly again. “Do you think Dad would get me a knife?”
 “Probably,” Harry says softly. He doesn’t waste much time before finishing what he’s thinking - like I said, he only trusts her most of the time. “He’d also probably enchant it so you can’t use it on yourself.”
 “I wouldn’t!” Fay snaps, turning to glare. Her bow-braids flop with the movement. Harry raises an eyebrow at her, and neither trip on Number Seven’s driveway rock collection. Fay’s indignation drops, and she averts her eyes. “I know you can’t carve scars away.”
 “Good,” Harry replies, tone as quiet as hers had been. They reach number nine not long after, and Harry waits until they’re crossing the road to continue. “I bet if you asked, Delphi would build you a glamour for while we’re at school.”
 “I’m not planning on wearing anything low cut,” Fay says, blunt and honest. She doesn’t rub her chest, but she does link each of her hands around the opposite wrist.
 Earlier, I told you about Harry’s physical scars. What they looked like, where they were, even if they weren’t visible. What I didn’t tell you is that his are far from the only scars among the residents of Ten Magnolia Drive. Vivian has a line across her right forearm and a bullet wound in her left leg. Regulus is missing his left arm from mid-upper-arm down, and you can find small scratches on most places of his body if you bother to look close enough. Reg is pale as all get-out, so his blend in the most. Caspian can discorporate on command or whenever he’s overwhelmed. Adrian’s scars are definitely the most benign, a mass of scar tissue on his leg from a sharp rock in highschool, and a deep line across his thumb from a scalpel slipping in college. And Fay’s is a twisting, ragged mess of scars across her ribcage, with a slash sideways on her stomach and the only straight line running from her bellybutton to the dip between her clavicles. The top of that one is the only one visible in most clothes.
 “Okay,” Harry says. “If you change your mind, I’m sure she could use the incentive.”
 “Okay.” Fay opens the front door with a flourish. “Cas! We’re home!”
 While life as a whole is interesting, nothing else relevant happens until much later. Noctua the Greater Sooty Owl reaches the Dunbar-Black residence around one in the morning of July twenty-fifth. This may seem an odd time to you, but please think back to the owl lore I imparted upon you after the beginnings. Owls, especially properly bonded owls such as Noctua, will appear when convenient. In this case, that means she returns home at one A.M., entering through an upstairs window, to a child whose night took a nosedive.
 Not that you can tell from the window there’s a child in the room. It’s the lone room on its side of the hallway, and instead of a teenager splayed despondently on the bed, there’s a roiling black miasma that covers the comforter and drips down to cover most of the floor.
 This is, as I said, Caspian’s scar. He lives with a parasite chewing on his magic, unable to use it to the extent of an average wix, let alone his siblings. Sometimes he can’t pull together into a solid human being, though usually, he can shift on command. But this type of magic, the magic that runs through Regulus, Harry, Fay and Caspian’s viens? The type that fuels Delphi and Dora and Alicia? This is an emotional magic. Some wix gain renown for being able to control magic without a wand. Some people call this wandless, which is a Snake Name if I’ve ever heard one. In children, it’s called accidental.
 In reality, it’s just wild. Structured magic is made with wands and rituals. It’s reliable, recreatable... the most scientific type of magic there is. Wild magic is made with movements, feelings and wishes. Both are good with the opportunity to be bad. Both can be learned through hard work. Wix can have affinities for either, and if they don’t like it they can learn the other.
 Caspian will never learn structured magic, but he’s learnt enough wild magic to stop the parasite from killing him, as it would most others.
 ...I seem to have gone on a tangent. You should get used to it.
 The point of explaining magic to you readers, whom I doubt have any of your own, is to explain that Caspian is simultaneously tied more and less to his magic than others you meet will be. A bad day for most can mean a few windows or cups shattering, maybe a small explosion. For Caspian, it means physicality takes more work than he has energy.
 When Noctua enters the house, slipping through the open window with grace and a whirring, whistling noise that sounds like a bomb being dropped, Caspian shudders. It takes a few minutes, during which Noctua makes herself comfortable on the bedpost, for Caspian to pull himself together.
 “Hey Nocts,” he says softly.
 Noctua cheeps and moves to his shoulder. She does this for two reasons- the second is to make the letters more accessible. The first is so she can preen him. Caspian may be her owlet’s nestling, but he is her owlet too. Human connections can influence owl claims, but only if the owl allows it. If you believe Noctua is the type to allow it, you are severely mistaken and may be reading too fast. This is an owl who bonded herself to a wizard, instead of the other way around. 
 Noctua preens his dark hair as Caspian takes the letters off her foot and sorts through them.
 There's one to Vivian from Amelia, and then three half-pages. One for Caspian, one for Vivian and Adrian, and one for Harry and Fay. These are from Regulus.
 Caspian takes his, because he doesn't need to read his family's, and because Regulus has always been the best for calming him down. Vivian has always been the worst at it, just for the record.
  Caspian,
Hey kiddo. Amy says you guys have been worrying. Don't let Viv and Rian psyche you out, I know what I’m doing.
 Besides- nothing here is going to take off my other arm.
 I might have just found a lead; yes, I know, I say that often, but I am usually right. Stay safe, don’t let the kids cause too many problems. I will be home in time for the dinner with Bones’, so I’ll see you soon.
  I love you, Caspian.
Regulus Artcurus Black, Heir of The Most No-
-Regulus. <3
 Caspian grins, a little wry and a lot sad, as he reads. It’s all good news, but what he really wants is for his dad to sit against the wall and tell him a story while he falls apart and pieces himself back together.
 Anyone else in the household would do it, Harry had even offered before he went to bed, but they never have the same energy Regulus does.
 Noctua keeps preening, telling him about her day in short cheeps and chirps, telling him about how well Regulus looks and how nice the old lady was. It doesn’t do much, mostly because Caspian doesn’t speak owl.
 If Noctua absolutely needs to tell a story using words, it’s best for her to go find a snake to translate, since the wix in her home all speak parseltongue, which is the official wizarding name for snake language. Well, to be fair, Regulus speaks a couple magical beast-based languages, but he is a terrible translator. He’s too formal.
 Caspian appreciates the effort anyway, and reaches up to try and pet Noctua’s back. His control slips halfway through, so instead he merely blows mist through her feathers, but she understands.
 Caspian lays back and lets himself melt. Noctua cheeps again and picks at the mist where his shoulder used to be, before taking off with another high-pitched whistle. She narrowly pivots at the ceiling, and then dives towards the windowsill. She lands on it primly and turns her head the required three-hundred-and-sixty degrees to stare at Caspian. She cheeps again.
 Caspian’s miasma tightens, not enough to form a human, but to form something humanoid, whose head-cloud tilts. Noctua chirps — quietly, because it’s dark and she’s smart — and then takes off out the window.
 Caspian loses shape again and follows her.
 It’s interesting, readers, how intelligent animals are. There’s a story I know, not related to this one, where a Guinea Pig reacted to her human-child’s distress. There are stories of dogs checking for breathing, and cats giving headbutts instead of hugs. There are military animals and there are therapy animals. Animals are not humans, but they can be intelligent despite that. Sometimes more than humans, sometimes less. This is one such scenario.
 Noctua has spent seven years living in this household, and nine years taking care of Regulus. She knows how to help her owlets and nestlings.
 Since she does not have the vocal range to tell Caspian stories, she’ll take him flying until it takes more effort to remain mist on the wind than it does to be solid.
 Regulus Black does return around nine the same morning, but before that I have to take you back to another country. Remember Scotland and the castle? Yes, I need you back there.
 This is Hogwarts Castle. You'll know well of its existence by now. And you have heard of, if not seen, Minerva McGonagall's existence.
 She is a teacher, the head of Gryffindor house, and deputy headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Old and Scottish, her face is lined but her hair is still black. Wixen age much slower; Minerva is sixty-five, and only her wrinkles give it away.
 Inside the castle, Minerva has woken up, dressed herself in smart green robes, eaten breakfast, and set up to check letters and build attendance lists.
 ...I mentioned that yesterday was The Calm Before The Storm.
 Today, The Storm Is Brewing.
 Minerva lays out the letters and adds the seven names in alphabetical order to the longer parchment she already has. She cross references this with two other lists, one from the Book of Names and one with annotations for MCPS. Unlike many other stories, when she comes upon Harry and Connor’s acceptance letters, she isn’t surprised at all. This isn’t because she’s part of a conspiracy to dispose of Harry, or because she’s a seer, but rather because she is Minerva McGonagall, one of the few reasonable and functional adults these kids will have access to. Which, I’ll admit, is a convoluted way of saying she works with Magical Child Protective Services and has already met Harry in the years since the Godric’s Hollow disaster.
 Minerva finishes, and then because Lily Evans and James Potter were some of her favorite students, she writes a letter of her own.
Dear Lily and James;
    I am looking forward to teaching your boys. Please make sure they both know I expect excellence; a few years among muggles cannot dampen magical prowess and I will be disappointed if he pretends it does.
Sincerely,
 Minerva McGonagall
 Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts
 It's not a long letter. Not one sent with the intent to cause panic. Not one sent to show off that Minerva knows more than the Potters. It's just a short, friendly missive to former students and teammates. She doesn’t remember that the Potters don’t know, or even know that herself. She’s not the MCPS Department Head. Her letter is meant to be teasing and friendly, not ominous enough to shatter family bonds.
 Minerva takes it out of her office, down a few floors, and then to the outer tower that houses the owlery. She sends it with an unbonded school owl, and doesn't think any more on it.
 On her way back to the castle she runs into Rubeus Hagrid, the Groundskeeper. He has bowtruckles - twig creatures - in his hair, which is bushy and long and grows into his brown beard.
 "Good mornin' ‘Nerva!"
 "Good morning, Rubeus," Minerva says, slowing her walk. "How are the Acromantula hatchlings?"
 Rubeus Hagrid, whom I will be calling Rubeus despite most calling him Hagrid, grins, wide and bright. He towers nearly three feet over Minerva, who is herself five feet and nine inches tall. "They're coming along great! Largest set of survivors so far. Aragog is so proud." It's a project from when they were in school together, nearly fifty years ago. Minerva and Rubeus were Gryffindors, although she was a few years ahead of him. Aragog is the first of their Acromantulas, and the leader of this group.
 "Oh do pass on my congratulations," Minerva says lightly. "And Mosag is doing well?"
 "Laying eggs doesn't do much to 'er," Rubeus says. "Biggest issue is that she's getting old. I think they'll just have to dote on grandkids next year." Mosag is, of course, Aragog’s mate. Luckily they don’t breed like black widows.
 Minerva, who has a few grandchildren of her own, understands the sentiment. "They’ll get more freedom that way, not having to deal with as many tantrums.”
 Rubeus hums. “They’ll all be living together, though.”
 "I suppose that's true." Minerva changes direction, so instead of going to the castle she was going towards the hut on the grounds. This is where Rubeus lives, and has since he stopped being a student. "Do you think you'll have time for another visit this month?"
 "Ah course!" Rubeus says cheerily. "Any idea what time works best for 'em?"
 Minerva purses her lips. "I think he'll be another of the bad ones," she admits. "Probably a Slytherin or Hufflepuff."
 "Pink and blue for the cake, then?"
 Minerva smiles, glancing over at her friend. "Yes. Perhaps some orange or silver too."
 "I'll make sure they're good and ready," he promises.
 “Thank you. Do you want Regulus’ notes before you go, or compare after?” “I think only triggers first,” Rubeus says, as usual. He has long since grown out of letting others do his thinking for him, especially when it comes to children.
 Connor Potter is eating a late breakfast when the Hogwarts owl knocks on the window. Obviously, this confuses him. He already has his Hogwarts letter.
 This isn’t an official letter, as I hope you guessed. 
 Lily picks the letter up and opens it, leaning on the kitchen counter as she reads.
 Now. You don't know everything that's happened. I do, but I'm a Narrator and therefore get special privileges. What I'm trying to say here, is that while Lily has some information you don't, you also have some information she doesn't.
 Such as knowing Harry's general health status and residence.
 Right about now is when Lily realizes that Harry has magic.
 You're welcome.
 [Cathy-]
 [Sally, I’m working.]
 Lily does not do too well with this information. Not because she doesn't want him to be, but rather because it means she has missed many events she didn't need to, and that her sister has been lying for years.
 "Mum?" Connor asks, watching as Lily's face goes pale, the hand holding the letter beginning to shake. "What happened?"
 Connor feels usease growing, although for a different reason than Lily's. His dad is an auror, and there's always the chance of something going wrong. This is where his thoughts go, instead.
 Lily shakes her head loosely, only peripherally noticing her older son. "It's- there's- McGonagall said-" she takes a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. "I need to go."
 Connor lunges away from the table and wraps a hand around his mom's wrist before she can apparate.
 Apparition in the Wizarding world is not a term used to refer to spectres, but rather a method of transportation. Among whom I believe you readers are, the concept is easier explained as personal teleportation.
 Lily twists on her heel, dragging Connor with her as she pops out of their home in Somerset and over to Surrey, which is just southwest of London.
 "Mum, what happened?!"
 “It’s your brother,” Lily says breathlessly.
 Connor freezes for a moment as Lily keeps walking down the street. “Hadrian?”
 “Yeah,” Lily agrees.
 Lily knows this neighborhood. She has been here four times before, once ten years ago, twice seven years ago, once three years ago, and doesn’t stumble as she walks through the area towards Number Four, Privet Drive. Connor doesn’t know the area, but he follows Lily as she storms through the place.
 “What’s- you don’t usually get letters.” Connor’s voice is small and unusually anxious. “It’s normally feelings, right?”
 “Yes,” Lily agrees. “It’s-” she sighs. “I don’t think he’s in danger, Connor.”
 “What was the letter?”
 “He’s been accepted at Hogwarts.”
 It takes a couple of minutes for Connor to parse through to what that sentence means and why it's causing panic, in which they reach the house in question. Privet Drive doesn’t contrast Magnolia Crescent much, but it does have its differences. One of which is that instead of being full of people who personalize their cookie-cutter houses, Privet Drive Residents would rather match. The street is full of brown townhouses that share walls with each other’s garages, instead of the white and black singular houses found across Wisteria Way.
 “Oh,” Connor says numbly. Hogwarts accepts magicals only, and as I said, often the prestigious ones. He looks at his mum as she knocks. “Does that mean I can meet him?” Connor's voice is as faint as Lily’s when he asks. 
 “Yes, you should,” Lily agrees. She knocks again, less sharp and more forceful, pounding.
 Connor feels some mix of elation and lingering nervousness, although now it doesn’t carry as apocalyptic of a feel. He’s heard of Hadrian, seen baby pictures from before Lily and James sent him away. Connor can’t remember ever hearing Hadrian’s voice, though, because he hasn’t. Hadrian hadn’t learned to speak fully before they were separated. Connor is glad his mum cleared it up though- it’s much less taxing to be anxious about a new person than it is to be anxious about one you already know dying.
 The door opens and then slams in their faces.
 Lily frowns and raps again, harder.
 Inside, Vernon Dursley fumes. He, like his son, is extremely obese, and more bad tempered than he is heavy. “Pet! Your freak of a sister is here!”
 Petunia Dursley skitters out of the kitchen, eyes wide. Her thoughts all carry to the tune of ‘What did the freak boy do now?’ Petunia is blonde, like her son and husband, although hers is dirty enough to almost be brown. Her neck is long, and her face narrow: it’s a sharp contrast indeed, for Petunia is underweight and tightly controlled where her family is obese and impulsively emotional. “I’ve got it. Take Dudders out the back.” This order comes for a few reasons, one is that she doesn’t want her precious son to be exposed to magic, and the second is because her son would be the first to expose their lies.
 When Petunia opens the door, she smiles tightly. “Honestly Lily, you’re such a worrywart.”
 “You didn’t tell me!” Lily snaps, in no mood for niceties.
 “Excuse me?” Petunia asks, panic shooting through her. There are rather a lot of things she hasn’t told her sister.
 “Where is my son?” Lily says instead, pushing her way inside the quaint home. Connor follows, and he cases the place first, looking for signs of his little brother. The issue is he doesn’t see any. All the picture frames, of which there are a lot, only include the Dursleys and family on Vernon’s side. Connor doesn’t know these people, but he knows his brother will have dark skin, even if he dyed his hair as he grew up.
 There are no pictures that fit that description.
 Lily notices the same thing faster, when she looks around a minute later.
 “He’s- out at friends,” Petunia says shakily. “Why?”
 Lily turns a glare on her. “Hogwarts just owled me,” she says venomously. “Hadrian is magical. So where is my son?”
 “You gave him away!” Petunia snaps back. “He’s not yours anymore.”
 “I thought he would live better without being teased by magic!” Lily snaps. “You were always jealous, Tuney, don’t try to deny it.”
 “So you’d rather give us a blight on our household?”
 As the sisters keep fighting, Connor looks around more. There are video games, but they’re all either in poor shape or very new. There’s trash on the floor and the couch looks overused. He slips away and into the kitchen, which is pristine apart from the half-eaten snacks on the table. The cupboard under the stairs has locks, which Connor finds weird, because they’re old, but they obviously lock on the outside and are opened with a key from inside. They look like a terrible child-proofing technique. He’s pretty sure muggles know better.
 “I visited! Why didn’t you just tell me then?”
 “It was more worth it to keep the kid and get the money,” Petunia sneers behind him.
 Connor makes a face at her greed, as it reminds him of some of his least favorite society adults. He sneaks up the stairs next, which isn’t any more helpful than the downstairs. There are four bedrooms, one which is full of, forgive my language, trash and crap. Unbeknownst to Connor, this is Dudley’s second bedroom, where he keeps all of his unnecessary possessions that cannot fit in his main bedroom. Connor moves on. The next is Dudley’s main bedroom, which is a mess but includes clothes and a bed. Then he finds the master bedroom, and the guest room.
 Connor very quickly realizes either his brother is a terrible slob, or isn’t living here. The prospect causes fresh terror to rise in his gut. If Hadrian isn’t here, where is he?
 Connor takes the stairs back down two at a time, and pauses to look at his mum and aunt.
 “You make no sense!” Lily spits. “Vernon is always bragging about how much he makes; you should have just sent Hadrian back!”
 “I couldn’t!” Petunia snarls.
 “Whyever not?” Lily rolls her eyes as she scoffs.
 “I killed him!” Petunia shrieks.
  I killed him.
 The words echo around the house.
 Connor trips on the last step.
 Lily takes a breath, eyes wide, breathing shallow, ears ringing.
 It doesn’t change what she heard.
 Despite appearances, or assumptions I may have given you earlier, Lily Potter loves her children. She can, has, and will die for them. It’s obvious, then, that hearing this is wounding.
 Another breath, wherein Petunia covers her mouth in horror and Lily nearly shuts down. She would have, grief overpowering anger, if Connor hadn’t gasped. The sound yanks Lily out of her spiral, and she turns away from her sister and to her son. Her bright eyes are wet as she reaches out and drags him to her. Her mind is reeling. Every time she visited, pulled by panic, pain, and a bond she still doesn’t understand, Petunia insisted that Hadrian had no magic. Petunia refused to let Lily ever see Hadrian.
 She very sharply regrets ever listening to Petunia’s demands, even on their logical days.
 It makes some sense that Hadrian is dead, and yet makes none at all. Lily has felt him. She needs more information, to find out how and why her rituals failed, she needs- Lily needs to mourn and think and- something doesn’t add up here.
 It will, reader, but not yet.
 She drops a kiss on Connor’s crown, trying to comfort him while reassuring herself that at least one of her children is definitely alive. After a moment, her thoughts return to Petunia. She is not discussing infanticide with the victim’s brother in the room. “I think there’s a park down the road,” she whispers into his hair. “Go over there, I’ll-” she pauses when her voice cracks, and presses her wand into his hand. “-pick you up later. After I figure this out.” And she will, eventually. Lily prays that this will be like the time before, even as she knows the chances are terribly low.
 Petunia should hope she gave Lily's son a proper funeral.
 Connor gives her back her wand, flashing his own, which he snuck into his pocket before breakfast.
 Lily nods and then stands up, turning to look at her sister. It’s not quite a glare, but it is heavy with betrayal and intent to receive answers. The unnaturally bright color only thickens the atmosphere. That storm I mentioned?
 It’s here.
 Connor takes a step towards the door when she lets go. He’s not crying yet, just breathing heavily, but that will happen later, once it sinks in. See, Connor has heard of his brother. When his parents are feeling nostalgic, or when the Weasley twins do something ridiculous, Hadrian is mentioned occasionally. But most often? Most often, which luckily wasn’t all that often, Connor heard about his brother during late nights or dark days in the basement, when his mom wrote runes and chanted and probably broke the law - sometimes she would talk about him. But Connor has never considered him actually dying. Getting hurt, sure. Glowing eyes and flowing blood had given that impression plenty when he was young. But he has never considered death as a possibility.
 Connor closes the front door behind him, and stays there for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut. The tears have started now, and then his aunt is talking again, and he can't make out the words but he doesn't like the tone. He clenches his fists and starts walking down the unfamiliar road, completely lost within minutes.
Now, earlier that day, around nine o’clock I’d say, Adrian Dunbar floos into Amelia Bones’ office within the Ministry of Magic. Floo travel is… well it’s not hard to explain the action but I consider the name disingenuous: it’s derived from the Flue Chamber in a fireplace, which is the inside of a chimney. Nominally it makes sense, however floo travel works by sucking the traveler down into the flames, not up like a Santa Claus ripoff. The Floo Network is a series of magical fireplaces across the world, and since they are imbued with magic when they’re built, one does not need a magical core to travel among them.
 “Good morning,” Amelia says warmly as he stumbles out of her person-sized fireplace. Adrian has not mastered magical travel, even this many years later. It could be due to his lack of magical core, or he could simply not have the best equilibrium. Personally, I advocate the latter, because even wixen aren’t perfect- indeed, many stumble whilst they travel.
 “Good morning, Amelia,” Adrian says, grinning. He has a bag of medical basics thrown over his shoulder, and his hair is tied behind his head per the usual.
 “You remember how to get there?”
 “Yep.” By which he means ‘Probably, so long as the hallways don’t move.’ It’s a valid concern in magical buildings - his own house does it.
 “Good luck, then,” Amelia bids, opening her office door. “Lift’s on the east side today.”
 “Of course it is.” Adrian rolls his eyes. He’s not sure why magic is allergic to being coherent. “Can I use the floo again for lunch?”
 “Certainly.” Amelia doesn’t add a clause about not messing with her stuff, because Adrian isn’t the type. “I might not be here though.”
 “Alright.” Adrian bids her farewell and heads into the hallway and bullpen, crossing to the lift. He waves to James Potter on the way, who grins back since his hands are busy trying to wrangle on the red overobe that is his department’s uniform. They're not friends, but they're both friend ly enough to smile at strangers in the mornings. James doesn’t know Adrian, he barely sees Adrian and has no reason to note his existence beyond the Sunshine Person he sees every now and then. Adrian does know James, most people do for some reason or other, but Adrian knows him because Regulus had a dart board with his face for six months. It was taken down after Reg got custody of Harry. Adrian doesn’t really care about James’ existence - people change, gossip is rampant, and he’s never had to interact with the man personally. He is also unaware of Noctua’s vendetta, but to be fair not even Regulus knows about Noctua’s vendetta. That is simply a Noctua thing.
 Otherwise, nothing important happens as he delves into the bowels of the Ministry, down the lift and through ill-lit hallways towards a spinning entryway. The Department of Mysteries, where he's working today, is a giant circle, magically enhanced to connect everyone inside to everything inside.
  Adrian has to stop and stare when he leaves the circular entryway and enters the Death Chamber.
 The next room is… heavy. That's the first word to come to mind. As Heavy as the hospital when his kid was dying or his morgue when it’s full. Heavy like an unsolved murder, or a fresh crime scene. Like Vivian’s tone when talking about her family. Like the little notebook no one wants to open. Heavy like a funeral, like a memorial, like the sudden, crushing reminder of how terrible humankind can be.
 Heavy like its namesake.
 “What room are you looking for?” The comment rips him out of his thoughts. Adrian jumps, turning quickly to the speaker. She’s got Black Family silver eyes, but it takes Adrian a minute to recognize them between the different shape and the darker skin tone. Her black hair is dry and messy, bundled on top of her head. Her green earrings are the only color visible around the grey shroud that qualifies as an Unspeakable Uniform.
 “Entropy, inside the Death Room.”
 She nods, a sort of bobbling movement that reminds Adrian of the teenagers he’s raised. She’s young. “That’s this way, Itzcalli’s in there today.” She starts walking around the large, odd room, and Adrian follows. He’s never been inside this area of the Ministry of Magic, which I forgot to explain, but is a government building hidden under London proper and sprawls beyond physical capabilities. They only got clearance to let him look at bodies from magical cases two years ago, and those few are usually delivered to the muggle building. This is a special case, including a decomposition spell that could only be slowed by bringing the bodies here.
 Adrian noticed as soon as he walked through the door to this department why the spell was halted. The entire room feels like a graveyard, something mournful and heavy that presses upon him. Morgues have a similar feeling, but this is stronger, somehow. It looks like a stone stadium, bigger than his house that slants down to a podium and an archway with a black veil, the thin fabric being blown by wind Adrian can’t properly feel.
 He stays very far away from that one, for more reasons than the overwhelming anxiety that rears in his chest when he looks at it for too long.
 "How do they design the departments?"
 She turns around, walking backwards around the high bench. "It's a circle," she says, gesturing. "So Entropy is the room between Time and Death, and Grief connects me to Love. I have rooms for Thought and Space too, but they don't connect physically. Limerence connects Love and Thought, and Dimension bridges Thought and Space. On the other side is Travel, which connects Space back to Time."
 "There were twelve doors, though?"
 She grins. "And only five of those connect. If Entropy could be accessed straight from the entry, you wouldn't be here." She sounds exceedingly smug.
 Adrian nodded, admitting her point. They reach another pathway up and down the stadium, and the Unspeakable turns upwards. “I’m guessing the other rooms are classified?”
 “Yep. Some of them do loop in here though, and if you take that door-” she points at the next pathway over, directly opposite the door he entered through. “You’ll find yourself in Thought, and the one beside it loops into Space.”
 Adrian huffs exasperatedly. “Magical blueprints must be murder to read.”
 His guide laughs, even as she turns away to enter the right doorway. “Unspeakable Medina,” she calls, still smothering laughter. “Doctor Dunbar is here, from the DMLE.”
 “I’m not actually from the DMLE,” Adrian cuts in a little awkwardly, but the humor from before keeps him going. He has worked with wixen enough to not be exceedingly anxious, but had he not already made a friend he would be much more nervous. Not all wixen are open to working with muggles - it’s a concept that’s caused Regulus much stress, especially as he can’t shadow Adrian everywhere as he can with Vivian.
 ...Not sure if I’ve mentioned it yet, but that’s what non-magical people are called, muggles; they’re generally never told about magic, and less likely to work with it. Of course, being told does not necessarily equate to knowing that magic is real, but that’s a rather large debate for another time.
 Adrian spares a moment to wonder how she knew his name, before remembering that the Ministry gives out name tags to visitors. His today says Dr. Dunbar, DMLE investigation, which is probably why his guide assumed that was where he was from. Sadly, proper Ministry workers don't do the same, so he can't use that to learn her name.
 "Hello." He says, catching up to his friend and waving towards the next witch.
 The Unspeakable looks up from the papers on the dissection table to smile at him. She too is shrouded in grey, but she has bright yellow ribbons tied through her hair and dark brown eyes. Itzcalli Medina is Hispanic, compassionate, and tired. The Death room isn't her usual area of expertise - out of the five 'workshops' in the Department of Mysteries Itzcalli usually works in Love. She, like many Unspeakables, is willing to work with many types of magic, and has worked before with Adrian's guide to find connections between life, love, and those who escape death.
 "Morning," she greets. "You're the muggle contact?"
 "Yes," Adrian says, not missing how his guide's eyes widen as she does a double take. "Adrian Dunbar." She doesn’t seem upset, just curious.
 “Be careful who you give your name to,” she says, tone a little sharp but- she’s not adverse to Adrian being here, she’s worried about him.
 Adrian glances back at her, working through the possible insult to find the advice buried in it, and he smiles wryly. “Telling and giving are different things.”
 Both Unspeakables relax at this. His friend smiles wryly in return, and then turns to Itzcalli. “You don’t need me here, right?”
 “Nah,” Itzcalli shakes her head. “They assigned us Devon for this one.”
 Adrian’s guide makes a face. “Good luck with that.” She steps back and waves lightly. “It was nice meeting you, Doctor Dunbar. See you at lunch, Calli.”
 “You as well.” Adrian waves.
 “You better!” Itzcalli calls after her as she descends the stadium steps again. Itzcalli turns back to Adrian. Merely looking at her exhausted smile makes his body ache, but he’s inordinately excited. Guessing by Itzcalli’s lack of movement, though, he’ll have to wait to start.
 “Which room is hers?” Adrian asks to fill the time.
 Itzcalli hums, following Adrian’s pointing. “She works in the Death Chamber. Her desk is by the veil.” Itzcalli shivers. “I went to pick her up in person once, and it was terrible. Now I just send her a Patronus when I need her.”
 “It is… heavy, around here,” Adrian agrees, looking around the Entropy room.
 Itzcalli smiles without humor. “Death is heavy, Doctor Dunbar.”
 Adrian pretends he believes her without exception. “Of course it is.”
 Itzcalli blows nonexistent hair out of her eyes. “C’mon, we have an extra pair of robes somewhere here that you can use.”
 “I brought scrubs.”
 Itzcalli gives him a look. “I know what those are because I’m muggleborn,” she says steadfastly, “So trust me when I say that Unspeakable robes are way better. For one thing, they absorb curses.”
 “Do you get cursed often around here?”
 Itzcalli laughs, back to him as she walks the length of the combined office-morgue-and-mini-department. “Way more than you think. Most of it comes off objects we’re studying, but there have been inter-department murder attempts.”
 Adrian does a double take. “You’re kidding.”
 “I wish,” Itzcalli says fervently, looking back over her shoulder to make a face. “The aurors can’t even do much about it because the point of Unspeakables is we can only discuss work in the Department.”
 “Is that going to affect me too?”
 Itzcalli pauses, and looks back at him from her position- climbing a wall? He’s not sure what she’s up to. Neither am I, honestly. “Good question. The Unspeakable oaths bind to a magical core, but you don’t have one - unless you do, and it’s just too small to use?” she hums. “I’m going to look into that sometime.” She drops from the ceiling, a silver robe thrown over her arm. “Ta-da! Enchanted against Time Sand, Light and Dark Curses, Compulsions, Portkeys, Blood, and more!”
 Adrian shrugs it on with a smile. “I appreciate it.”
 Itzcalli gives him a searching look. “You’ve dealt with nonhumans before, haven’t you?” Adrian shrugs a vague yes, and Itzcalli drops the subject. “Anyway. Devon’s late, which is a little surprising because he’s a pedantic jerk but then again he’s working with me, so.” She rolls her eyes, but the annoyance is quickly buried under a smile that promises chaos. “Wanna get a headstart on the case?”
 “Sure. Where are the bodies?” Adrian’s grin doesn’t quite match, but he is excited.
 “Right-” Itzcalli spins, the yellow in her hair contrasting the dark decor. She stops for a second to orient in an unusual room, and then points. “this way!” Adrian laughs a little and follows her towards the opposite wall, which now that he looks is made of cold lockers.
 The labels on the lockers are parchment, and the cabinets are some pale stone that steals light. Everything here seems old, and as Adrian reads the tags he sees it’s not just a feeling. “How old is this Department?” Adrian asks, not looking away from the tag. M. E. Warren, 1943. That was before he was born.
 “As old as the Ministry itself.”
 Itzcalli and Adrian jump at the new voice. There’s a man with dark skin, light eyes, and dreadlocks leaning against the doorframe from Time’s side of the room. He has a necklace featuring the rune Dagaz over his robes, the silver only visible because it shines. Lighting in the department comes from enchanted sconces set along the ceiling - considering how large the main Death Chamber is, it's no wonder the lighting matches the atmosphere.
 “Morning, Devon.”
 “Medina,” he returns, his smile obviously fake. Adrian takes a moment to brood about being in the middle of two fighting wixen, and then he shrugs. Adrian’s here for science, and he’ll deal with the people in the middle. He knows Itzcalli isn’t bad, and Devon might not be either.
 "You're the muggle?" Isaac Devon asks, raising an eyebrow.
 "Adrian Dunbar," he offers the name without a hand.
 Devon's smile is slight and hard, but he moves on anyway, pushing off the wall to point out the right locker. "The body's over here."
 Itzcalli is already standing at the locker in question, and she re-
 Okay, seriously? This is important information, but I'm sensing rather a lot of disinterest. Why?
 Oh.
 ...is that the problem? I suppose I did leave you in an emotionally charged moment earlier, but I am trying to get through all the important bits.
 You don’t care. Alright, my apologies. I’ll take you back. We were with Connor, right? Yes, we were. He’s walking through the neighborhood cluster that contains Magnolia Crescent, Privet Drive, and Wisteria Way. And he’s crying, because- well if you forgot why he’s crying I do have to wonder how many of these words you’re actually reading.
 Now, it takes Connor a little while to find a park, turning corners and crossing roads as he tangles himself deeper into the suburban jungle. Despite getting terribly lost, he does find the park, so it’s probably okay.
 Oh, who is he kidding?
  Nothing about this is ‘okay.’
 Connor has heard of his brother, but it’s always been assumed that Hadrian was alive, just somewhere else. He had assumed there was a chance, you know? If he spent enough time in the muggle world, if he asked the right questions, he could see his brother. They could go out for lunch someday. He had never been prepared for this. How could he have?
 Hadrian was sent away for safety reasons - although really they should have kept him longer to ensure he didn’t end up like Caspian - and Connor grew up watching Lily work to ensure he stayed safe, far away from their painfully-in-the-spotlight family. Connor thought Hadrian was safe. He had been told Hadrian was safe.
 How could this have come from that? How could he- do you understand how terrible it is, to hear of the death of someone you could have been close to, without any idea of when you lost that chance? How he died? Why he was killed?
 Although, Connor supposes as he crumples under a large willow, that there is no ‘why’ good enough to justify killing anyone, especially a child. Connor hides his face in his knees, but he can’t disguise his shaking breath. How could his Aunt do that? And then lie, maybe for years?
 How could she live with the guilt? 
 “Hey,” someone says, and the words are accompanied by the sounds of someone sitting down beside him.
 Connor is… really, really not in the mood for strangers today.
 “Are you okay?”
 It’s… not the question Connor expects to be asked, but he accepts it anyway. He doesn’t look up, but he shakes his head.
 “Do you wanna talk about it?”
 To a stranger? No, he doesn’t. Connor shakes his head again.
 “Okay.”
 Beside him is the subject of his thoughts. Harry leans back on his hands, ankles crossed as he gives his companion some quiet company. Ian is happily in a sandbox, and Harry lets his eyes wander to him instead.
 The Magnolia Crescent park is nearly deserted today, so Harry noticed the moment the other kid arrived. Harry hasn't figured out who he’s sitting beside yet, but to be fair neither has Connor.
 What Harry has figured out is that the newcomer is crying, and even if he won't talk about it, Harry has found that most of his resident family enjoys commiseration or someone else telling a story while they cry.
 In his family, it’s usually a story; after a few minutes of commiseration, Harry begins to speak. “Ian’s new too,” he starts, still mostly watching the toddler even as he glances at Connor. He's never seen Connor before, but he knows most of the neighborhood kids by face if not name. “We’re not sure how long he’ll be staying; my aunt was going to look into it today, actually.”
 Connor does look up then, because until now he hadn’t noticed the park’s third occupant. He finds Ian quickly, and then buries his head again.
 “We don’t usually get our hopes up for permanent placements,” Harry explains. “I think we’ve had four, outside of Fay, Cas, and I, since I joined. Although I guess Fay isn’t really a permanent placement, since she’s a bio kid.” He shrugs. “The foster system is a mess of semantics.”
 Connor snorts. He didn’t see any other kids, so he has no idea who his companion is talking about, but most of his attention is drawn by ‘foster system’. This isn’t something Connor knows, considering he’s ten and has never needed that type of knowledge.
 “Foster system?” Connor asks, unknowingly the first words he ever says to his little brother.
 “Yep!” Harry says. “I’ve lived here nearly all my life, but I was in Privet Drive for the first few years, up ‘till I was four. Then someone actually noticed that the aunt and uncle weren’t fit for custody and my other uncle took me in instead. Uncle Reg’s a certified foster parent, which is how he got custody in the first place. Now I live here with him, Cas, and the Dunbars.”
 “Huh,” Connor says, parsing through the information. He still doesn’t know what most of it means. Harry stops talking, sensing Connor’s focus waning. “What do foster parents do?”
 “Foster parents take in other people’s kids, sometimes as part of a family arrangement, and sometimes so that kids with bad families can be somewhere safe. It’s not a perfect system,” Harry looks up at the trees. “But it’s got a good heart.”
 Connor snorts. An imperfect system with a good heart sounds like society, he thinks. 
 “Sounds useful,” he says instead. “How do they find out who has bad families?” The question is pointed, but not because he’s really mad at his companion. He’s wishing someone had used it to save his brother. He hasn’t yet realized they did.
 “Reports of suspicious behaviours,” Harry says. “That’s where it tends to go wrong. The clever ones can fool investigators.”
 Connor hums, and Harry lets silence reign as Connor’s thoughts chase each other around his head. Connor wipes his tears and sets his head on his knees, instead of in them. “Why did you come over here?”
 Harry doesn’t look down, watching leaves move instead. “I don’t like letting people cry alone.”
 It’s a nicer answer than Connor had been expecting. He dreads the day he’ll have to personally deal with good liars; up till now, other children have often admitted eventually that they were sent by parents. “Oh.”
 Harry doesn’t respond.
 Connor looks over and his heart skips a beat. Harry’s marked cheek is on the right side, which is away from Connor, but the resemblance is there anyway, especially because Connor has been thinking about it recently. “What’s your name?” he asks, not noticing how his voice has gone light and teary suddenly.
 Harry’s head snaps over at the tone change, and Connor gets to watch as Harry recognizes him in return. Harry’s eyes, a dark green that doesn’t match their mother’s but could have once, widen, and he blinks once.
 “Harry Potter,” Harry says, composure slipping. “Er- Hadrian; both are true. You’re-?”
 “Connor,” Connor says.
 They take a moment, both of them, to examine the other and compare to themselves. Harry’s hair is longer, but it’s tied into a bun that reminds Connor of someone from his dad’s school photos. Connor’s is short and wild, not an afro but something of the same effect. They each got one parent’s eyes. Connor finds his eyes drawn again to the lightning scar, the one he’s only seen once, in a final family photo before they split. He thought it was black from infection then. It’s still black though, so he assumes his hypothesis was wrong.
 “Your scar never healed,” Connor finds himself saying absently, reaching up until his fingers nearly brush it. He doesn't, though, too scared he'll vanish the apparition.
 “Neither did yours,” Harry responds, staring at the oddly pink mark. He doesn't reach out. This isn’t quite as weird for him as it is for Connor, because Harry occasionally reads the newspapers, and Connor has occasionally been in them.
 “Curse marks don’t,” Connor shrugs. “I-” he gestures helplessly, chest tight even as the rest of him feels oddly floaty. “I thought yours would have.”
 Harry shrugs in return, a little awkwardly but his voice is falsely casual when he speaks. “Some things just have to leave a mark, I guess.”
 The twins are quiet, eyes intent.
 "How are you here?" Connor asks, in the same breath Harry begins.
 "What are you doing here?"
 "You first," Connor says.
 Harry acquiesces. "Like I said, I live here. Why are you here?"
 Connor is quiet, feeling his heart climb up into his throat at the reminder.
 "Connor?" Harry asks, picking up on the sudden dropping mood.
 Connor searches Harry's face again, a little desperately, and then he closes his eyes, because he can't say this to Harry's face. "We came to visit my aunt," Connor says, trying to line up the facts in front of him. It doesn’t work. "Mum and I were supposed to pick up my little brother."
 Harry watches the pain on Connor's face and hides a wince. "Did they say he didn't want to come with you?"
 "No. They said he's dead."
 "Petunia said what?" He spits, and Connor jolts, eyes snapping open, because the vitriol is so removed from the tranquil atmosphere that it sets his heart racing again.
 He watches his enraged brother, and thinks of the row from earlier. He swallows. "I don't think she meant to tell mum. She sort of yelled it as they were fighting."
 Harry buries his face in his hands. "Oh, I despise her."
 Connor watches. Things are, again, not adding up. Or… not again. They have yet to make sense to Connor. "How are you not dead?"
 Harry peeks around his fingers, unwilling to spit out the entire story; "It's… a long story."
 "Sounds like our lives," Connor says with a snort.
 Harry has to agree to that. It really does. "Do you know what resuscitation is?"
 "No," Connor admits. He feels a bit like an idiot, having to ask so many questions, even though he shouldn't. Growing up is about learning the world, and he and Harry grew up differently.
 "When a heart stops, or a person dies, it's possible to restart the heart if someone does it right. And if you keep blood flowing, then there's not as much damage when the healers actually wake them up. At least, that's how it was explained to me. Not sure what gets damaged, because you still have to heal, but-" Harry shrugs, dropping his hands from their earlier gesticulating.
 "They can just- bring you back to life?"
 "Yes but no? It only works if you do it right away."
 Connor hums. "Someone brought you back."
 "I came back," Harry confirms. "Any other questions?"
 Connor stares hungrily instead of answering. He can't think of any right now, but he feels a question bubbling under his ribs, more than one maybe, unformed but yearning.
 Harry lets him, but his own focus is on how improbable this is. He had… planned, in a sense, how he was going to go about dealing with the issue of having a twin brother when they met at Hogwarts, with differing plans based on their house layouts.
 This meeting nicely crashes through those plans, chews up the rubble, and makes soup.
 And that is assuming this isn't a particularly creative and clever plot to kidnap him or get information, but Harry is ten and doesn't think that highly of himself.
 "Not yet," Connor finally admits.
 "Ri!" Ian shrieks, making his presence known again in the sandbox. "House!"
 Harry glances away from Connor to see what Ian means. He shifts, and smiles when he notices the mounds. "It's a very nice house, Ian."
 Ian grins and goes back to building.
 “Who’s that?” Connor asks.
 “Ian,” Harry answers. “He’s been here two days.”
 Connor hums.
 The silence stretches, and Connor hates it. Harry can’t see his discomfort, but he can tell anyway. He prepares to stand and kill it, but Connor speaks first.
 “How did you-“ He sighs, looking at the sky. “Are you sure you’re okay? She can’t hurt you again?” She can’t kill you again, Connor doesn’t say.
 “Yes,” Harry promises, settling down and threading his fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Never again.”
 Connor watches, and then nods. “Good.”
 Harry smiles weakly, but this conversation makes him uncomfortable and now that he has his brother he wants to think of something else.
 Connor eyes him as he falls silent, and kind of wants to pry, but this is the first time he remembers meeting his brother, ever, and he knows most people don’t spill their guts right away. He’s not going to mention his random childhood coma or other drama, and he’s not even sure he wants to hear the story behind Harry’s short death. It’s terrifying enough as a concept.
 The silence reigns until Harry comes up with a question, random as it is. “This is weird. How do I know you’re even the real Connor Potter?”
 Connor snorts, because while many people have asked in awe if he was ‘really Connor Potter?!’ they’ve never needed confirmation. The scar on his forehead has always been enough. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
 Harry doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have a set caper that would require this, and he doesn’t feel like it’s needed, either. Harry shrugs instead, because he already said it. “I’ll figure it out,” he says languidly.
 Connor raises an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And how do I know you’re the real Hadrian Potter?” He… hasn’t considered this possibility yet, but since Harry suggested it, Connor feels paranoia clinging to his skull.
 Harry shrugs. “I’m alive?” Connor snorts, but he quiets down quickly. Harry looks at him, concern and worry climbing his chest. He meant it as a joke, something instinctual that brought livelihood back to their dead conversation. Not to actually worry Connor. “Here,” he pulls his library card out of his pocket. “I haven’t kept my school IDs with me,” he admits, “But it counts, I think.”
 Connor looks at the card like he doesn’t know what to do with it. He doesn’t, for a moment, and then Connor recognizes enough pieces of the design to realize what it is. “Oh! I don’t have mine,” Connor admits. “We don’t go often.”
 “I go all the time.”
 “Cool.” Connor shrugs. “Is there a good one around here?”
 “Yeah,” Harry says. “There’s not a true magical section, but it’s got a lot of good fantasy-fiction.”
 “Cool.”
 "What's your favorite book?" Harry asks before the awkwardness can take over.
 Connor stops to think. "I'd go with the Big Friendly Giant, probably. Yours?"
 "Alice In Wonderland by Lewis Caroll."
 Connor squints. "Isn't that an adult book?"
 Harry snorts, but he acquiesces too. "I needed help reading it the first few times," he admits. "But I know what most of the words mean now, and it's a fantastic universe. Lots of wordplay."
 “Yeah? Like what?”
 And then Harry is smiling, excitement unhindered, as he explains his favorite parts and the metaphors that took him the longest to get. Connor watches, and he thinks honestly that this is what Ron means when he talks about Ginny's love for espionage. It's something Ron and Connor are terrible at (they've tried), but it makes her happy. Connor's been in such situations a few times, watching as the Weasleys or Neville start talking about things he doesn't understand or follow but they're passionate about.
 This is four times better.
 "I think it would be fun to make an amusement park themed after it," Harry says, winding down. "Or just enchant a teakettle or something for smoke signals."
 "The shrinking and growth potions sound fun," Connor says. "We could sneak around mouseholes." Ginny would love it, he thinks. And Fred and George should never be allowed to touch it. The Yellow and Blue duo are menaces.
 "Or snake dens," Harry grins. Somewhere to their left doors slam and someone starts yelling about not being late. Harry looks over.
 Connor knows this won't last, but he wants it to. He watches Harry's awareness shift and mourns it, just a little. "You like snakes?" He asks, just to draw Harry back.
 "Yes!"
 Connor grins. "Me too. Dad took me to meet an Occamy once, she was the rudest snake I'd ever met, but her feathers were so pretty! Not quite the color of the sky, more of a green-blue gemstone, or pool water."
 "Whoah."
 Connor grins, both at the reaction and the memory. "What's your favorite snake?"
 "Mostly I know garters, but there was a random cobra who'd come to hang out a few years ago. I'm not sure what happened to her."
 Connor flops backwards, turning to look at Ian. The toddler looks nothing like him or Harry. What had Harry said earlier? Foster care?
 "Who do you live with now?" 
 Harry looks over, but stays sitting up. "Uncle Regulus, Aunt Vivian, and Uncle Adrian."
 Connor… has no idea who any of those are. He tries to place the tree he's under instead. "You mentioned kids too, earlier?" It’s not an aspen, but it could be oak or willow.
 "Yeah, there's also Fay and Caspian. And Ian, now."
 Connor blinks, and then snorts. “Okay so,” he holds up his hand to count them out. “Your name is Hadrian, his name is Ian, and you live with people named Caspian, Vivian, and Adrian?”
 “Yes,” Harry says around a laugh at Connor’s tone.
 Connor actually laughs then. He loves this. The apprehension from earlier has long since vanished, he's comfy, and he's learning about his brother. “Was the matching on purpose?”
 “I don’t think so,” Harry grins. “They didn’t name Fay Favian.”
 Connor snorts. “Is Fay a nickname?”
 “Short for Faith."
 He nods. “I wonder if there are any nicknames for Connor?”
 “Lily and James only call you Connor?”
 “Not even close,” Connor shakes his head. “But none of their nicknames are short for my name.”
 “What nicknames do they use?”
 “Sweetheart, Bucktooth,” Connor pauses before adding the last one. "Sometimes Their Little Immortal." There are others, but even out of the ones in the vein, perhaps especially from their number, few stick.
 Contrary to his worries, Harry laughs. "Cute."
 "What about you? Any embarrassing nicknames?"
 "None of your nicknames are embarrassing."
 "Bucktooth is terribly embarrassing," Connor corrects him, opening his mouth to show off his teeth. It's embarrassing in a good way, though. "What do they call you?"
 "Harry, mostly. Aunt Vivian is Viv, Adrian is Rian, we call Caspian Cas, you know Fay’s, and then there’s Uncle Reg.” Harry shrugs. “Otherwise they’re all jokes like Casper or Changeling.” He’s leaving out the ones he doesn’t like. Squirtle is the first to come to mind. Later there will be Hades.
 “Changeling?”
 “Legend says the fae used to steal human babies and leave other fae in their place.”
 “Creepy,” Connor says bluntly. Harry shrugs.
 “It’s not too bad if they steal from the right house.”
 Connor frowns up at him, but doesn't contest it. The way Harry said it… There was something there Connor doesn’t get yet, and he isn’t going to start an argument he’ll lose.
 “Think Con would work as a nickname?”
 Connor shrugs. “Why not? It does the job.”
  “You’re discussing names without me?”
 Connor jumps as the snake appears in the grass beside his head. Harry doesn’t. Connor smiles slightly and greets her at the same time Harry does.
 She raises her head to greet them in return. “Hello, Greater-Death-Cheater-” Harry makes a face at the title. Connor wonders why- it’s fitting, which makes it a good one. “Who is your companion?”
  “This is my clutchmate, Connor.”
 “No proper name yet?”
 “Actually yes,” Connor says, looking at the little boa. He shifts so he can sit up. “I’m Night-Dandelion.”
 Harry giggles. Connor shoves him blindly, which doesn't stop the laughter.
 The brown snake seems to judge the name, before doing an approximation of a shrug. “There’s been worse.”  
 Harry buries his head in his hands. “Please don’t insult him."
 “What’s your name?” Connor asks before he can explode from the emotional flux his little brother defending him causes.
 The snake puffs up. “It is under deliberation and has yet to be picked,” she says, as sagely as a baby boa constrictor can be. She turns to Harry. “If your clutchmate and nestmates are half speakers, why do Sun-Human-Nestfather, Unhatched-Mother, and Night-Mist not speak as well?”
 “I have no idea.”
 “Mum and dad are speakers too,” Connor says. “It's fun when we’re out, dad will make fun of people, and mum and I see who can go the longest without laughing.”
 Harry grins sideways at him. “Have you been caught?” 
 Parseltongue is weird in Harry’s family. He hadn't considered whether or not his blood relations would share the skill. Fay and Regulus do, although he can't remember if Caspian can too. Caspian’s skills are unreliable.
 “A couple times,” Connor admits sheepishly. “Still fun though.”
 "Did you bring your book?" The snake asks, cavalierly changing the subject. The twins let it happen.
 Harry shakes his head. "I did, but I'm not reading right now."
 "Your book?" Connor asks.
 "Speaker-who-reads."
 "I read to them," Harry explains, because as nice as the boa is, titles don’t explain everything.
 "Why?"
 "It's a good way to practice, and it's fun. Plus, snakes are a bit like kids. They're funner to talk to when you know what they're talking about or have a topic in common."
 Connor 'huh's. He's never thought about that. "I thought snakes were inherently smart."
  "We are," the boa says, flicking her tail imperiously. Harry squints, wondering if she's the cobra reincarnated. It's an eerily reminiscent gesture. "But even smart creatures can learn better, night-flower."
 "...not… my name," Connor says, but he doesn't expect it to make a difference. Snakes can be stubborn.
 "Coin?"
 Connor blinks at Harry. Did he miss something? "What?"
 "Still trying to think of nicknames," Harry explains. "Not a good one?"
 "No idea," Connor says. Harry looks at Ian again. Ian's still in the sandbox, though now he's laying down.
 "Is he making sand angels?"
 "What's a sand angel?"
 "Snow angel but sand."
 Connor doesn’t recognize that phrase either, so he assumes it’s a muggle thing. Godric’s Hollow is a mixed community in name only; this muggle neighborhood is more inclusively mixed than Godric’s Hollow. There have been enough incidents without obliviators visiting that everyone here knows about magic to some degree - and technically, Regulus hasn’t broken the Statute of Secrecy. Loopholes are a clever man’s best friend.
 Godric’s Hollow just hides magicals among the muggles, giving the impression that there’s a bunch of Elitists trying (and failing, depending on who you ask) to rough it. The separation is noticeable, and honestly a little pitiful. There’s keeping a secret, and then there’s segregation.
 I find one more tolerable than the other.
 Connor pushes himself up, deciding to go see. He’s learning loads on this expedition to the muggle world, wizarding home nearby or not. “Can we go see?”
 "Sure," Harry agrees, moving to stand up too. They head over, and yeah, Ian’s waving his arms and legs in the sand. Harry smiles, and it is still the best thing Connor’s seen. He thought he’d seen it all when Harry was talking about Alice in Wonderland, and he was wrong. “You having fun?” He asks, leaning over Ian’s head. He looks so proud, so fond, that Connor finds himself mirroring the expression.
 “Yeah!” Ian calls happily. “Join!”
 Harry looks at the sandbox, which is… really just the entire playground box. “Alright.” He sits down and looks up, pausing for a moment to just look at his brother, who’s looking at him like he hung the sun. “You coming?” It makes something in his chest tighten because he hasn’t done anything to deserve that look, but at the same time- Harry’s not happy that he had no chance to plan, but he is very happy he got to meet Connor.
 Connor looks down at his brother, who has yellow sand peppering his dark hair already, and shrugs. “Sure.” He doesn’t flop bonelessly like Harry did, instead sitting down gingerly. The smile falls from his face as he does. He’s not a fan of sand. It’s itchy.
 It’s even later when Harry poses his next question- well, not his next one. Children are fickle and their minds wander, but this is perhaps the next one whose answer I deem important. “…Newspapers say you still live in Godric’s Hollow?”
 “Yeah.” Connor hums. There are clouds moving quickly across the sky, but Connor can’t feel a breeze. “Do you… remember?” The question is hesitant, low.
 “Not that one,” Harry says without missing a beat. Despite his speed, he matches the mood. “You?”
 “Not much.” Connor shakes his head and then regrets it. Sand is gross, and now it’s all over his neck and in his hair. He remembers a lot, considering he was younger than two. “Lots of lights.”
 Harry closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t remember that day. He doesn’t remember the attack on Potter Cottage. He remembers other injuries, he remembers Number 4, Number 10, and Number 8. He remembers an aching neck, a pinched back, and a searing shoulder. He doesn’t remember the bright lights Connor does.
 Connor doesn’t respond for a few minutes. “This is so weird.”
 “Which part?”
 “I’m meeting you!” Connor throws his hands up, eyes bright. They flop back into his sand angel’s sleeves a moment later. “I always thought… it wouldn’t happen until I was an adult.”
 “Oh,” Harry says. “I forgot… you thought I was a squib, right?”
 “Yeah,” Connor agrees. “Were you planning on meeting me?”
 “Yeah,” Harry looks over at his big brother, a tendril of apprehension building but he stamps it down. They’ve done great so far. “I wasn’t sure if you knew I existed. We’d talked about a couple different ways you could react.”
 Connor hums. He hates it when he does that, imagines all the ways something could go right and then all the ways they could go wrong. It’s annoying and usually only manages to upset him. It’s why he tries to listen to his impulses first. “I’m glad we met.” Connor doesn’t think the words say enough.
 “Me too.”
 Harry’s words don’t seem to either, but Connor can hope. He keeps his face seeking the sun, but glances sidelong at Harry. Harry’s looking at him, expression almost as fond as when he talks to Ian, even if there’s more hope than assurance. This is okay, he decides. This is better than okay, really, it’s good. Connor looks back at the clouds and breathes, feeling the knot of emotions in his chest slide over each other and loosen.
 This is good. He’s okay. Harry’s okay, too, which is so much better than Connor expected a few hours ago. Lily will come find him, and he can explain, and they can meet the foster parents, and Connor will have a brother again.
 He doesn’t remember the first time, no, but this was just like making a friend, and he knows he’s okay with that, wants it even.
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lilieths · 2 years
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— @camkiskadden​​ 
As the years dragged on Lilith Rhian had decided that her life was, in fact, a divine comedy. And how could it be anything else? How could she be anything other than the Guide and Cicerone’s plaything at this juncture?
The majority of the weddings she’d had attended included a Talbot; hers and Abe’s, Connor Sr. and Catherine’s, Kenny and Cam’s and now the wedding of her little beastie and Esmeray. One of those had bore something like success and the others...there were fates worse than death in this world. She didn’t want to dwell on the memories of it all, but it was difficult to stave them off in the thick of another marriage celebration. 
Lilith had spent the entirety of the week vacillating between pity and guilt, fear and happiness. One day was spent sitting in the closet of the master bedroom, huddled in a corner with her wedding dress and crying for hours; another was spent texting a number she should have deleted years ago, 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘳’𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥! 𝘖𝘥𝘥 𝘤𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘶𝘮𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥? 𝘐’𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯. 𝘐- 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩...𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵? He hadn’t replied then, but she should have expected as much.
Past that she’d tried to offset the pain because it felt selfish; there were all these things Connor was grappling with and all she could think about was herself. Through it all, it felt like her composure was chipping away; every waking moment filled with thoughts about her own failed marriage and that night Catherine had visited her home thereafter. By all standards the end of her relationship hadn’t even been the most tragic, and there that selfishness held onto her and whispered remembrances about her baby and his babies. 
Her parents had been wrong to think her prodigious all those years before; she’d been a greedy wizard unable to save her brother, a wife unable to keep her husband from leaving, a mother unable to keep her children safe, a grandmother tainting whatever happiness Connor could find in this ceremony. Fuck, she’d even sent that man one last text before the ceremony, 𝘈𝘯𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘈𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘯𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦. 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦. 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘵𝘪𝘦...𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴, 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺? 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
If she threw her phone at the wall would that have been too dramatic? It would be for nothing anyhow, she knew his phone number as well as she knew his name. 
But she’d been buzzing with nerves and all-around stress as the reception dragged on. She was avoiding Cathy like the woman carried bubonic, avoiding mirrors because that was a current issue for her, and walking away from most reminders. Attempting to at least, but her life was one unending divina commedia, and all paths here lead to memory. Keeping away from her daughter-in-law she’d waltzed a little too close to her son-in-law’s orbit ( always less abrasive than the latter, but a memento was a memento nonetheless ); they hadn’t seen each other for all these years but he looked similar enough in the ways that mattered; different in the ways that did as well. 
They weren’t the same people they had been all those years before, but fuck it, right? “You look good, Cam. Enjoying yourself?” Is this as bad for you as it is for me?
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katewritesthings · 9 months
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Love Me Like I Can // Chapter 1
Chapter 1 // Vibe
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pairing: Joe Burrow x Singer! Original Female Character
•summary: Inspired by Scandoval and Taylor/Travis. R&B singer Diana Hayes navigates falling in love after a cheating scandal captures the attention of America and a certain Bengal.
•warnings: •warnings: Cursing. Cheating. Sexual Situations. Drinking. Drug use. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
January 21, 2024.
Diana was currently sitting cross-legged in Biz’s room, computer in her lap, sharing a bottle of wine with her sister. Open on the screen was the Spotify app, with Diana’s first album Get Out pulled. Avoiding the writing she was supposed to be doing, the singer was instead focusing on watching her sister unpack her new room. The activity was a welcome distraction from the feelings that usually came with writing.
The past three weeks had been hectic for the sisters to say the least. Diana had finished up all of her press obligations for Band Together and the release of her EP in the first two weeks of January and spent the past week moving her things into her new rental in New York from Boston. They had two and a half weeks before Diana’s schedule would be filled with writing and recording for her upcoming album and tour. She had thought stepping foot into the house she shared with Connor would make her miss him, but in reality, it just made her angry and sad that every memory she had of Boston was tied to him.
“So, what are you doing again?” Biz questioned, passing the bottle and continuing to hang her sweaters. 
“I’m making a public playlist with some of my songs and some songs by other people who have summed my feelings up more eloquently than I could have,” Diana explained, adding the title song to the playlist. Leave (Get Out) applied to her current situation way than she could have ever thought when she recorded it at 14. She moved on to her second album, eyes scanning the titles.
“No, I know what you’re doing. I guess I should have asked why you’re doing this instead of… yknow, writing and preparing for the songwriting session you have coming up. You record at the beginning of March, you’ve got to have material.”
“I think I’m still more hung up on the situation than I want to be and people to know about. Like, I don’t know what combination of emotions I’m experiencing, but I’m stuck,” Diana admitted, twisting her long hair into a top knot and adding two songs, “The High Road” and “Too Little Too Late” from her second album. “Like, can I write about the situation and still be angry? Can I use the songs I wrote about Connor? I definitely don’t want people to think I’m still hung up on him. I’m really just hurt by the betrayal of it all.”
“Well, I think you’re allowed to still be heartbroken about it still, Di. It’s been three months.” Biz had made her way to Diana to hand her the wine and wrap her into a hug. “This is the first downtime you’ve had since then, you’re allowed to be sad and people will be fine with that. We’re going to get drunk tonight and have fun. If you write, you write. No pressure on healing, okay?” 
Diana stared at her sister’s little finger before her own laced around it and she uttered, “Promise.” 
“Now, turn on some music, and let’s go do a shot!”
Biz indicated to follow her, so Diana did as she was told. Half an hour later, the two were sitting on the couch in their living room laptop between them, taking their second shot of tequila. Diana would be lying if she said she didn’t feel the first and the large glass of Sauvignon Blanc she had been sipping from. 
“Have you texted Joe yet?” Biz’s voice chimed, clearly trying to brighten the mood. Unfortunately for Diana, the alcohol intensified the feelings of rejection as her face settled into a deep frown and a lump formed in her throat.
“No.. uhm, his agent never got back to Cathy, so I never got his number…” She cleared her throat and gave a nervous laugh. “Which is totally fine or whatever because I almost even forgot his name.” Biz rolled her eyes, “Right,” she muttered as she took a drink of her own cocktail. She knew her sister spent at least two days googling the handsome quarterback. “Have you reached out on social media?”
“I don’t want to look desperate, Biz! I don’t even know if I’m ready for another relationship. He’s just cute and looked fun, that’s all.” Diana was still nervous about the idea of jumping into something so soon. She and Connor had been together since she was 19 and while he wasn’t her first relationship, she thought at one point he was going to be her last. The idea of starting over at 26 was scary.
“I think we should invite him and some friends to your birthday party,” Biz interrupted her self-doubt spiral to propose the wildest idea Diana had heard yet. 
“Biz, he won’t even give me his number. How would I even do that?,” Diana shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “His friends were probably just making fun of him because he likes my music.” “I wish you would stop fucking doubting yourself, Di. You’re hot as fuck and dude probably too scared to text you. You build everybody up but yourself. I wish you would give yourself half the love and grace you give other people.” Biz’s words must have sparked inspiration because Diana grabbed her laptop and paused the music. Opening a word document she began typing and humming to a beat. 
Lover girl, loving everything but herself.
Pedestals for everyone, but she’s on a shelf.Emotion comatose, you know how that shit goes.
The sisters spent the next forty minutes sending ideas back and forth to each other, opening another bottle of wine, and listening to Diana sing their ideas into the room. They had finished one song and had even been in good enough spirits to finish a song Diana had been working on before her breakup. Giggling with her sister would never get old, Diana was certain. Everything she had been through in the past three months just made her realize how grateful she was that she had her sister. When their dad died, Diana had attempted to shut everyone from her family out of her life and she was just glad Biz was too stubborn to let that happen. 
Just as the thought that Biz’s stubbornness was a positive trait crossed Diana’s mind, she looked up to see her phone in her sister’s hand and hear a “It isn’t what it looks like,” fall out of her mouth.
“Well, then what is it? Because it sure as hell looks like you’re going through my phone,” Diana shrieked, weakly reaching for the iPhone.
“I just texted Cathy to invite some of the Bengals to your party! You’re already going to be meeting Taylor’s boyfriend, might as well make it an AFC reunion,” Biz said excitedly, knowing it was too late for the text to be unsent.
Diana wanted to be angry at her sister, but she couldn’t help but feel the excitement bubbling in her stomach. 
-------------------
February 3, 2024
Diana hadn’t celebrated a birthday since her 20th and she was nervous. Biz and her manager Cathy, had insisted on throwing her a huge birthday party to make up for the ones that she missed celebrating. Connor had always insisted that celebrating birthdays was narcissistic, refusing even to get her a present in the seven years they were together. 
The redhead was currently sitting in the back of a blacked-out Suburban, between Biz and Taylor Swift. In the third row sat Travis and Austin, Taylor’s brother,  quietly chatting about something that Di couldn’t make out. 
“Thank you again for this, Taylor,” Diana sighed, trying to regulate her breathing. “There is no need to thank me! Everyone needs a friend, Diana. Just because you’ve had some pretty shitty ones in the past doesn’t mean we can’t show you what they’re really supposed to be.” Taylor said, placing an arm around her new friend’s shoulder.
“Plus, if my intuition is right, you just might be making more friends tonight,” Taylor smiled as the car came to a stop. Diana was going to ask what she meant before the door was opened and flashes of light began blinding her vision.
Diana was still trying to get her eyesight back to normal when she stepped into the venue that had been rented for the evening. Her sister had done an amazing job, the entire room was decorated as if they had just stepped foot into a forest. She now understood why her sister insisted on her wearing the cream corseted dress that perfectly fit the theme. Diana felt like a fairy.
Looking around the room, Diana was overwhelmed by not only the number of people but who cared enough to actually show up for her. The room was a mix of people she met since the breakup and ones who have known her since before her debut album. She was almost certain she had seen some people she hadn’t even recognized!
Two hours after arriving and making her rounds, Diana found herself sharing a joint with Elijah, one of her childhood friends from Philly. The two hadn’t seen each other in years, but had picked back up like they never missed a step. The pair were in a fit of giggles when Diana noticed a group of rather large men sitting at a high top near the bar.
Diana took a pull from the join, squinting her eyes to try to make out the faces of any of the four men laughing amongst themselves. “Do you know who they are,” she exhaled the question and the smoke together. 
“Not for real, but it looks like they linebackers or some shit,” Elijah cackled, taking the joint from Diana’s hand. 
“Fuck,” she cursed Biz aloud. “That has to be Travis’ friends, right?” 
Diana was weighing the odds that any Chiefs player, other than the one who was dating her friend, would show up to her party less than a week after losing the spot in the upcoming Super Bowl. She didn’t know much about pro athletes, but based off of the way Travis was talking to Biz in the car, the team was taking it pretty hard. 
“Shit, I know him though,” Eli pointed out Travis in the crowd, heading their way with Taylor. When the couple arrived in front of them, Eli offered the joint to Travis and Taylor grabbed hold of Diana’s hand. 
“C’mon, Di! There’s some people I want to introduce you to!” Taylor’s drunken giggles filled Diana’s ears. She wasn’t sure if it was the four Palomas she had pounded since she got here, the pre-roll she just took part in, or the second-hand confidence that comes from being on the arm of The Taylor Swift, but all of her anxiety was replaced with excitement as she was pulled towards the unknown men. 
“Hey fellas!” Taylor greeted the group, “I’m Taylor and I really think you should say Happy Birthday to my friend, Diana!” 
The redhead shot her a confused look, expecting Taylor to have met these men before at least! Deep laughs pulled her out of her thoughts as a chorus of ‘happy birthdays’ filled the air.
The man that Diana didn’t recognize spoke first, “Thanks for inviting us! I’m Tee.” Offering out his hand and pointing out the other men as he said their names. “Ja’Marr, Joe, and T.B.”
“Oh! Hi!” Diana greeted more excitedly than she would if she were sober. “I saw your interview! Thank you so much for giving me a shout-out. Anyone who plays my music on live TV is cool in my book”
Ja’Marr and Tee broke into laughter as Tee elbowed Joe in the ribs and whispered something to the guys.. She wasn’t sure if it was her projecting or if she actually saw Joe blush and look away. Thankfully, before anxiety could take over Diana’s mind, Ja’Marr shouted over the music. 
“Let’s just say you’ve been on the official playlist since the LSU days with me and Joe. Ever since I met him, he been playing that Marvin’s Room cover..” 
Diana’s face burned, embarrassed about the drunken remix she had done on Instagram Live at 18. A fight with her then-boyfriend sparked a bender of prescriptions and alcohol causing her to lose inhibitions and stream from the recording studio. While she was embarrassed about the situation, she was happy her label had let her finally release more mature music after. 
“Oh, my God! I forgot you did that” Taylor giggled, swatting her new friend’s arm. “That was so Bad Ass.”
“I agree,” Joe spoke for the first time. His voice was clearer, more sure of itself than Diana remembered from the interview. And Mic’d Ups she had seen after googling him. 
“Thank you,” Diana accepted, eyes trained on Joe. One of the other men had changed topics in the brief moment their eyes had locked, but she couldn’t be sure which. The intensity of Joe’s gaze caused heat to fill Diana’s cheeks and she turned back to the group just in time to hear Ja’Marr jesting with Taylor.
“As cool as your boy is, I’m glad it’s not him in the Super Bowl. Like I said a few weeks ago, anyone but the Chiefs.”
“Hey, now. Don’t be bitter we went farther than you, Chase.” Travis’ voice startled Diana, who was doing her best to stare anywhere but at Joe. She busied herself by watching the Tight End as he carefully distributed the drinks he was carrying, an Old Fashion for Taylor and a Paloma for Diana and himself. 
After thanking Travis, Diana turned her focus back to the group. The conversation had turned to the topic of the recent football season and even though Diana knew next to nothing about sports, she found the conversation was piquing her interests more than she imagined. “And I’m not sorry, bro. I said what I said and I said anyone but the Chiefs,” Ja’Marr laughed in Travis’ direction. “Oh, so you guys have beef,” Diana questioned, nervous to show she didn’t know much about the profession of the majority of the group. Luckily the men were kind enough to explain their recent rivalry and some of the basics of the game. Well, as much as they could with the amount of alcohol that was being consumed. Before long Taylor had excused herself to say hi to someone she had recognized, Ja’ and Travis and T.B. had broken into their own conversation, moving to the bar itself. 
“So, Ja’Marr and I are wide-receiver, which means that it’s our job to catch the ball when the quarterback, or Joe, throws it,” Tee was attempting to explain to Diana for the third time. Joe was staring, finishing the last of his drink and Ja’Marr shook his head in frustration as Diana nodded her head in a way that showed she clearly had not committed the information to memory. “Man, Tee, just give up. Let’s go get us some drinks,” Ja’Marr pulled T.B. away, leaving just Joe smiling at Diana.
“So, uh, I’m glad you guys came!,” Diana blurted out nervously, instantly cringing that she had just repeated her introduction. “Well, what I mean is, I didn’t get response from the team or see you guys when I first got here.” “Oh, we lost track of time pregaming and were advised to come in through the back since the press saw some of the guests you had,” Joe smiled, simultaneously calming some of the nervousness she felt and sending her stomach into somersaults. “Apparently you’re quite the popular lady. Taylor Swift and Wiz Khalifa at the same party? Talk about Taylor Gang or die.” 
Diana laughed at the last comment. She really was blown away by the amount of people who showed up for her. She hadn’t even spoken to Cam, better known as Wiz, since their collaboration six years ago and he had shown up to support her.
“Yeah, I’m really grateful that all of these people wanted to spend their evening celebrating me,” Diana beamed. She was in a state of intoxicated euphoria that was giving her the courage to act on what she wanted, like asking Joe to leave the crowded room. “Do you want to walk to the balcony?”
A curt nod of agreement was all it took for the pair to drain their drinks, stand up from the table, and make their way to the outer edge of the room. Conversation flowed freely between the two as they walked, discussing their tastes in music, movies, and books.
“You look wonderful tonight, by the way,” Joe changed the subject, eyes scanning the dance floor where his teammates had found their home for the night. 
Diana was sure that her face was going to permanently be the color of her hair just from the presence of the quarterback to the side of her. “Thank you, you don’t look so bad yourself,” she replied.
And he did. He was wearing a pair of faded black jeans that were perfectly tailored to his muscular thighs, a black t-shirt that was clinging to his chest nicely, a brightly colored jacket and his signature gold chains, including the 9. Diana let her eyes linger on his chest longer than she normally would have before Joe’s voice broke her out of the trance.
“So, can I be honest with you?,” Joe asked, glancing down at Diana. Even in the heels she was currently wearing, the man still stood a good 8 inches taller than the woman at his side. 
“Uhm, sure?” Diana answered, unsure of what was about to come. ‘I’ve known the man for less than an hour, what hasn’t he been honest about?’ Diana thought to herself as they made their way down the hall that led to the balcony.
“I was honestly shocked you invited me after Ja’Marr’s interview,” Joe laughed, opening the door, and letting Diana step onto the balcony before following suit. 
“Are you kidding me? I’m shocked that you guys listen to my music!” Diana shoved his shoulder. “Besides, I got pressured into inviting you all since you curved me last month.” 
The redhead took a few more steps before she realized that Joe was no longer beside her. When she glanced backward, she noticed that Joe was wearing a puzzled expression.
“What do you mean I curved you,” Joe asked slowly like he was trying to put pieces of the puzzle together.
“Well, after I saw your interview, I was honestly shocked that you even listened to my music. Then Ja’Marr said to hit you up, so I had my manager ask your team for your number,” Diana explained, body fully turned towards Joe now. “I never heard back and Biz insisted it wasn’t desperate to try again too.” “You’re joking,” Joe let out a humorless laugh and shook. “I thought that was the team making fun of me after Ja’Marr embarrassed me with the interview.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Was what he said not true?” Diana teased, taking a step toward him. “Are you not a fan?”
“No, I’m a huge fan,” Joe flushed, eyes locked with the aquamarine ones in front of him, encouraging Diana to take another step. “Yeah, what was it the Ja’Marr said? ‘Practically obsessed,” Diana’s voice came out breathier than she imagined, taking another step. She was practically chest to chest to chest with Joe, their eye contact never breaking. “To ‘hit you up’” 
That was all Joe needed before grabbing the back of her head and leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss. The action was drunk and messy, fueled by equal parts lust and alcohol. As the kiss deepened all Diana could think about was how she wasn’t close enough to Joe. Grabbing his jacket, she stepped into him again, causing him to slowly take steps backward until his thighs hit a table beside the door, filled with floral arrangements and an ashtray. Joe shifted his weight so that he was partially sitting on the table, partially leaning. Their lips moved together rhythmically until Joe pulled away and trailed kisses down her jawbone, grabbing at the tulle skirt of Diana’s dress while Diana adjusted her legs on either side of Joe’s so that she was straddling his thigh. 
Joe’s mouth worked its way towards Diana’s neck, finding the tender spot behind her ear. A wave of pleasure washed through Diana, a moan leaving her lips and hips bucking against Joe’s thigh. His rough hands ran up and down her body methodically as if he already knew what buttons to push to cause the woman before him to melt, mouth continuing its path down her cherry blossom tattoo.
Diana rocked her hips again, craving the relief the friction had given her, hands tangling in Joe’s waves. “Fuck,” she whispered, barely finding her voice. Joe pulled back, hungry gaze meeting Diana’s eyes before recapturing her swollen lips. Placing his hands firmly on her hips, he helped her find a motion that kept the moans falling from her beautiful mouth. A familiar tension, one that Diana had only felt at her own hands the past three months, was building in her stomach as she took Joe’s bottom lip between her teeth. Her alcohol-raddled brain didn’t care that she was on a balcony riding a professional athlete’s thigh, she was desperate for release and she was determined to get it.
That was until the door beside them slammed open, causing Diana to take a step back from Joe. Biz stepped through the door, calling Diana’s name. “Di! Are you out he-”
Biz cut herself off when her eyes landed on her sister, lips swollen, love bites down her neck, the skirt of her dress still in Joe’s hand. The pair looked like they had been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “Oh! I, well, I just came to find you because it’s time for cake. We’ve been looking for you.”
Diana cleared her throat, causing Joe to let go of her skirt and stand up straight. “Right, uh, you better get in there. Can’t cut the cake without the birthday girl. I’ll talk to yo later, I guess.” Scratching the back of his head, Joe did his best to look anywhere but at Biz while he exited the balcony.
“What the fuck was that?” Biz asked, incredulously, still staring at her sister. 
“Well, I don’t know what it could have been, but what it turned out to be was a cockblock,” Diana laughed. “What happened to ‘I barely remember his name’ and ‘he was just making fun of me’,” Biz’s face finally broke into a smile. “I don’t know, Biz. I think we were just both drunk. I’m sure he was just looking for someone to hook up with, it’s probably nothing,” Diana shrugged, brushing past her sister. “Now let’s go get cake.”
After cutting the cake, the last hour of the party was a blur to Diana. Cathy, her manager, had grabbed and insisted she say bye to as many of the music producers as possible before making her own exit. Normally, Diana wouldn’t have minded at all, wanting to take any opportunity she had to suck up to the people in charge of her music. But tonight, Diana could not take her mind off Joe and his blue eyes and soft lips. She hadn’t managed to get his phone number after realizing that he never rejected her and she was hoping to see him again.
After saying farewell to the last of the label reps, Cathy advised Diana to finish up her goodbyes as it was almost time for the car to take her home. Diana followed instructions, making sure that when she found Biz and Taylor, they stayed by her side. While waiting for Travis and Austin to show up with the groups’ coats, Diana couldn’t help but continue to glance around the room for messy brown waves.
“They left right after the cake was cut,” Biz spoke knowingly, a smirk on her face. Diana’s heart dropped. She didn’t get to say bye to Joe.
“Who left?” Taylor asked, “The guys from the Bengals. Seems like Diana and the quarterback snuck off to have a little fun,” Biz cackled, “He even gave her a hickey like we’re in seventh grade.”
Before Diana could reply to her sister, Travis and Austin approached the ladies and started distributing coats before the group made their way outside and into the Suburban waiting for them. Determined to not let disappointment ruin her night, Diana decided to add songs that reminded her of tonight to her public playlist while they drove. She added “How to Touch a Girl” before moving on to her last album. Looking over the tracklist, she added “Vibe” and “Like This”,  deciding that they perfectly described the feelings of lust and excitement she was filled with earlier.
Diana couldn’t shake the feeling as she was falling asleep that she wished that she had stopped Joe from leaving the balcony. Maybe then, she would be falling asleep next to him and not squished in between her sister and her new friend.
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@therapycat21
Ahhhh, I am so overwhelmed by the feedback. Thank you so much for liking, reblogging, and replying. I don't know if you all are interested in the spotify playlist Diana would make or media blurbs after the chapter, but I can also do those.
Thank you again!
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magic-by-nora · 2 years
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@midnightunderground-npcs​
Catherine Talbot didn't always like her. In fact, Nora remembered the skeptical look in her eye when Connor first brought her to his parents, the vivid sense of "another of Connor's bad decisions" being tossed through her thoughts. Her tune changed once she realized what Nora was capable of, but even as she started to warm to the woman, Nora would never forget those first few minutes of hate and distrust.
Seeing her here now at her son's wedding to which Nora was very gratefully not the bride was a pleasant surprise. After the tumultuous phone call where Cathy had begged Nora to take back her son, she was sure she would never see the werewolf matriarch again. It would seem she would not be so lucky. In another setting, the wizard would have been suffiecient to make herself scarce for the evening, but Catherine chose to make it personal. She chose to hate Esme. And well, Nora couldn't have her best friend being the ire of this woman's disdain.
Before Nora could really indulge in the bar that had been calling her name, she slid to Catherine's table, a small smile on her face. "Cathy! It's been so long. How have you been?"
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