#dove knits

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Shrimpy?

We have Grim, and now our dearest Shrimp Prefect is here (I finished them August 18th but haven’t posted them yet).

[onion-makes-stimboards]

Can you do a wug stimboard (not a fandom thing I promise)

!!Wug Stimboard!!

1--2--3--4--5--6--7--8

(For those who don’t know)

[theyroaredvintage]

Photo by John Bishop, 1971

[chunkypossum]

“… words that have no shape to them, only breath on the wind. Which is more than they can feel of one another…”

“Murmurs that bear the weight of the curse, crossing a threshold as unseen as the words written into its short existence.”

“A secret.”

I missed wip Wednesday but needed to unload little pieces of this. This fic might be a dead dove situation.

[dove-da-birb]

This is my blog

Be subjected to my current hyperfixation

[blacksheepdolls]

scarf showoff! I feel pretty good about it for a first effort. before this all I made were a few blobs and a length of neon yellow.

and yes it’s for Auriel, as are many things.

[simp4katsuki]

Thinking a lot about murky water. Watching your spoon disappear from view as it touches the porcelain bottom of your cup of tea, glass surface swallowing it up. Dropping small stones into a lake and following their sideways descent as they shudder against the pressure of the water, turning green and then blue and then fading away. Fish rising to the surface of the ocean from a bottomless black well, shifting from formless shapes to crisp, scaly, unseeing eyes. thinking a lot about how things disappear

[cloudcountry]

@dove-da-birb i immediately thought of you

First time posting my knitting to tumblr. Look at my Bug Son

[softguarnere]

An older coworker, innocently trying to make polite conversation: So what do you do during your free time?

Me, who's in the middle of writing a meta over-analysis of my OCs in my docs for fun:

[luveline]

Shy!reader and post prison Spence - the first time he calls her a pet name? I love that your Spencers always use “honey” or “dove” or “love” and we know she’d be a mess.

P.S. completely agree with how much I love the gentleness of your characters. The way you write Spencer in love is literally my favorite

ty for requesting <3 fem

“Are you sure it’s okay?” 

Spencer holds a hanging strap. You hold your own, core tense with the movement of the train. “I think I would’ve mentioned it before you got on the train if it weren’t.” 

You nod, glancing around the traincar at the other passengers. There's a stout lady wearing a large fluffy sweater, turquoise with two white kittens at her chest nuzzling one another in knit. A man with three bags of groceries sits just beside her. Further down, a teenage girl listens to music through leaking headphones, her phone reflecting blue light on her cheeks. 

“But are you sure I won’t be an imposition?” 

“You aren’t usually. I guess we won’t know until we get there.” 

“Maybe I should just find a hotel for the night.” 

“Y/N, I’m kidding. You’re not an imposition, it won’t be a problem. There’s enough room at my apartment for you to stay however long you want. Between all the books, that is.” 

It’s just not something you pictured asking him for. Your kitchen flooded in your apartment and the landlord had to put you up in a hotel until he could get someone in to make sure the stove wasn’t about to explode or catch light. But the idea of a hotel is rough torture —somewhere unfamiliar, living out of a suitcase, surrounded by people you don’t know without a door that locks properly. Spencer caught you sweating over it at your desk, pulling the story from you in reluctant drags with a hand on your shoulder. 

It’ll be okay, he said, you can just stay with me. 

Which is relieving and somehow a new can of worms to deal with. At least at a hotel there was no chance of seeing Spencer in a towel. Spencer seeing you in a towel, in your pyjamas, without your formal office protections. 

The worst part is the excitement. 

Terrified he’ll see it on your face, you stare at your shoes next to his. Spencer… Everyone told you he was a dork. When you joined the team in his absence, not once did you get the impression that the man who’d be coming back was like this. You feel like he’d been infantilised. Which isn’t to say he isn’t a dork, he is, he tells you the strangest things, facts or statistics to accompany each topic of the day, and he has all the manners and chivalry of someone who knows what it’s like to be as painfully shy as you are. But he isn’t shy. 

Autistic, he’d confided once. Probably. I’m better at dealing with it now. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“Nervous.” 

“I know.” He grasps your arm as the train screeches on tracks, turning a tight bend. You’re grateful, but immediately flushed with heat. 

“I don’t want to embarrass myself.” 

“You couldn’t. I think I know you too well already.”

“You’ve known me for less time than the rest of the team, but you were the first person to offer me a place to stay.” You clench the rickety handle of your suitcase. “Thank you.” 

“That’s okay, angel.” He says it simply and softly, like you really are an angel. Something breathless to wait with. 

Angel, you think, heart skipping a beat, pulse slow and then suddenly ramped. 

His arm slips behind your back. “I don’t want you to stay in a hotel if it’s going to scare you. Besides, it’ll be fun. Like a sleepover.” He laughs. And you, despite your flush, heat sinking across your chest like a bruise, manage to laugh back. “I’ve never had one before.” 

“What?” 

“Never had a sleepover. I didn’t have any friends in school, and I haven’t had a girlfriend stay the night before.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, expecting a retraction. Not that you’re my girlfriend, not that you’re anything like that at all. 

He smiles at you. “Should we get takeout?”

“What were you thinking?” 

“There’s an Indian restaurant between the station and my apartment? We can stop in. Or we can order something to come. Or I can cook, if you want home cooked.” 

“No, it’s fine, you don’t have to cook–”

His lips turn to a quizzical pout. “I don’t mind.”

You want him to call you angel again. You want him to take you home, make you dinner, and you want to sleepover. Like a girlfriend, you want to wake up in his bed. 

“Sorry,” you breathe, “I think I’m just tired.” 

“Are you sure?” You nod. “Alright. I was worried you didn’t like the pet name, but your pupils dilated when I said it–”

You can’t escape him. One hand in the hanging strap above, the over on your suitcase handle, you have no choice but to stand there with his arm around you to keep you from falling, face so hot with it that you’re sure you’d be feverish to the touch. “It’s fine,” you say, too afraid to look at his face that you end up staring at the nice shape of his throat, his black and purple tie. “Call me what you want. Um, I think we should get Indian.” 

“Good choice, angel.” 

[callsign-datura]

denial. imagine just sitting with simon on the couch. not watching tv, just laying there and listening to the rain hitting the roof. he's on his back with his shoulders against the arm of the couch, his head lolled back as you're sprawled on top of him. he likes cuddling with you on top; likes the warmth you provide. although simon is almost always warm to you, he always feels inexplicably cold. your soft warm body wrapped with his is the perfect solution to his consistent cold temperature. your fingers toy with the strings of his hoodie, wrapping it around your pointer finger and tugging it a little as you move further up. you never sit still, he's realized. always squirming. "quit movin', luv."

he warns quietly, tilting his head forward to kiss your forehead. you give a quiet whine in response before you settle into his broad body's warmth. your hand leaves his hoodie string, and you wrap your arms around your torso, fitting yourself snugly against him. his hands slide down from your back to your hips, and his thumbs slip into the hem of your shorts, resting on the curve of your hip bones and rubbing small circles. he hums to himself at how warm you are, and you whine at how cold his hands are. he chuckles in amusement, his hands leaving your hips to cup the back of your thighs and bring you further up, straddling his lap a bit more. you follow his lead and shift forward, legs resting on either side of his. you shift your hips a little into his, and you feel that warmth pooling in your belly. you act on the feeling, and you pepper little kisses over his chest and take his wrists, guiding his hands to your ass. he follows suit and cradles the flesh, kneading the fat for a few moments before he shifts and sits up, cocking his head forward to ghost kisses across the span of your neck. he breathes a little sigh as you grind against him, your warmth transferring to him and melting his worries away. a little whimper leaves your lips as your grip tightens on his arms, the warmth pooling in your belly further as you feel him shift underneath you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer.

"c'mon, dove," he murmurs, his tongue darting out to travel along the length of your flesh. he feels you shudder, and a smirk curls his lips as you grind against him a bit more. his grip on you tightens and your movements stutter. he gently pushes you off of him, and you exaggerate the movement, falling on your back towards the other end of the cushion and huffing out. "hey!" you exclaim, lifting your head and sitting up. confusion is etched on your face and he chuckles. you note that sparkle in his eyes as he crosses his arms and leans back. "not now, eh? we were havin' a moment, and you come n' make it somethin' else entirely." he teases quietly, his eyebrows coming up as his gaze travels your face. your eyebrows knit together, and he rolls his eyes, the smirk never leaving his lips.

"show me how bad y'want it, pet, and maybe I'll indulge ya."

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

He Lives

So, back in May (2023), I decided to pick up a knitting project and he is finally done! Meet, my son;

Now he's sulking

The great Grim-sama has tuna!!!!!!

Grim jumpscare

Tail details

Toe beans :3

I used weight 4 yarn and 3mm straight needles for the body (it was hell), whereas the bow is weight 6 on 6mm needles. I had an old spiral crystal necklace that I didn't use, so he has an actual amethyst crystal for his magestone. He is around 40 or 50 centimetres tall, and very potato-shaped. He is potato-shaped so he can't run away from me or the crimes that he commits.

I didn't use a pattern for this, it was all eyeballed (I came to regret this when it came to the limbs). But I do have a very rough mock-up for a pattern (it's just shapes though).

To awaken him, I played Circle of Life and gifted him tuna. It was a whole-ass dance sequence.

Tags; @twistwonderlanddevotee, @krenenbaker, @identity-theft-101, @inkybloom-luv, @eynnwwyjth, @officialdaydreamer00

[hoshigray]

shower sex with sukuna?

꯳⃘꤫⃛✿ contents: true form! Sukuna - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference - standing + against a wall positions - biting/marking - kissing/making out - itty bitty degradation - unprotected sex - clitoral stimulation - cervix-fucking - pet names (babe, dove, pet) - overstimulation - mention of drool/spit and pain.

“Mmmahh, ‘Kuna, wa—Eeek!"

“Keheh, so damn noisy.”

Being fucked in the shower with Sukuna would be out of this world — an experience that one would have difficulty to even formulate into words. Something that they would have to experience for themselves…

Nude bodies enclosed within a confined space, shower water sprinkling down from up above glide down across wet skin, and a mist fills the atmosphere and clouds your vision…Either that or the proximity of your face with Sukuna’s. 

The cursed being holds you to the wall, your hands balled to fists as hot breaths exit your frame. The man behind you carries you effortlessly with his multiple arms, the water hitting his tattooed chest showers to your buttocks. One girthy cock is stuffed inside your cunt, stretching your entrance and rubbing your inner texture in a gratifying rhythm. Every smack of the giant’s hips on your butt is louder and bounces the walls of the shower, making it easier to drown your eardrums.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” Salmon-pink hair, usually pushed back, is now damp and low, sticking to his forehead and nape. He scoffs, “And it’s been like that way before I put the water on, huh.”

“Haaahh, ohhmyGod,” you stammer with eyebrows knitted. Sukuna’s hands arms hold you up by your arms, his lower ones keeping your waist still and stuck to the skin of his pelvis. “Ohh G-God…! So hooot…”

The man snickers to himself, observing from behind how your body’s movement is affected by his. A powerful man such as himself can put you at your whims efficiently. Even now, as his second cock doesn’t have to be inside you to have you turn into a whimpering mess, the erect, free limb rubbing up against your clitoris is enough to cause shivers to rattle your spine. All it does is feed the man’s egotistical self; seeing you try to writhe from his grasp – knowing damn well you’d fall and bust your head on the floor – keeps the sadistic excitement going.

And to keep it up, Sukuna spawns lips of his palms to chew and bite on your arms, resulting in a cry from the simultaneous pain. “—Ahaack! F-Fuucking shiiit.”

“Hmmph, so tight on me,” he purrs to your ear; the twitch of your vagina was anything but discreet. “Enjoyin’ this, aren’t you? Hmph, such a slut for my dicks, babe?”

“Ohhh, myGo—Ahhh! ’Kunaaa…!” Your mind is swimming; sticking to one thought is strenuous when all you can hear is the sounds of skin smacking up against each other or the sensation of your southern region meeting the hilt of Sukuna’s cock for his other one to press your clit again. “Suk’naa, I beg of y—“

“What?” He steps back, causing your hands to come off the wall. You nearly lose your soul, forgetting that the behemoth is holding you. Yet your fright is humorous to him. “Can’t hear you; if you wish to beg, speak aloud?”

Now is where he decided to increase the pace; the work of his hips changed to an irregular cadence you can’t keep up with. Frequent grazes to your sweet spots now happen every second or so, and the poke of your cervix nearly knocks the wind clean off you. Warm, tranquilizing water felt like cold, sharp knives for a split second, like the tongue of his stomach on your back. “Ohh! Hoooh!! Wa-wait, please, no…!”

“Answer me, pet.” He barks with a grin, sporadic plunges to your chasm becoming the norm.

“Taahh, I’m so close…!” The heat within this enclosed space strengthens the smog, disorienting your brain and causing fuzziness to blanket you outside of this intimacy. Your senses are wholly stuck to the moment, sticky and wet by the man who has you levitated and fills your slit with his girthy groin. “Please, Suku, let me cummm…!!”

Sukuna laughs bitterly, using his upper left hand to swipe his wet bangs. “Ask again.”

“I beg you, Sukuna,” Holy fuck, you can’t take this anymore! “Please, let me cum, I wanna c—Ohooo!!”

A harsh flex of his abs causes another hit to your cervix, turning your words into instant babbles. “Again.”

Before your mind becomes numb, you spit out the words in desperation. Drool mixes with the trickled water hitting your chin, and your ass is practically embedded in Sukuna’s length and meaty thighs. “—Cum!! I wish to cum!! Please, please, pleaseplease—��

“Quiet.” His upper left-hand silences your wails, the mouth of his palm chewing on your bottom lip until you open up. “Hurry up and cum, you cock-hungry whore.”

His hand kisses you — no elegance nor grace in it, an utter mess of saliva and water that you can nearly choke on. Instead, you moan along to the tongue shoving and fucking you orally. A sinful kiss that pairs with the raunchy scene and noises around you. Your ears could melt any second now, brushes to your clit has you on the brink of tears, and the heat gets worse within the span of ten seconds. Constant pokes to your cervix quicken your heart rate, and your body submits to the shocks that pull you down to your euphoric apex.

You howl to his palm; your frame jolts with every single passing crash of your orgasm with quivering toes. Sukuna doesn’t stop moving; however, he allows the gesture of going slow to treasure your vaginal walls spasming on his member and biting his lip at the feeling, having to control his urge to release by enjoying the merits of your essence coating him.

“Hnngh, fuck…That’ll do, little dove.” He whirs to your ear again, licking your helix before a chew from his canines. “Keep wringing me out.”

His words were barely decipherable because of your after-haze, succumbing to the kiss of his hand and the cold water that plasters on your hot figure. And yet, despite the contrasts, the warmth within you has you hum in delight.

© HOSHIGRAY2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[chxrryhansen]

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍

Pairing; Dark!Rafe Cameron x Innocent!Reader

Warnings; CNC!!!! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. smut, extremely dark themes, unprotected sex, public sex, choking, drugging? (rafe manipulates reader into snorting a line) degrading terms (slut, whore) loss of virginity, tiny bit of blood, breeding kink, size difference, daddy kink, dumbification, dacryphillia, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Based on x.

authors note; i really thought about never finishing this because i just haven’t had the motivation or wanted to write in quite a while. but i’ve been neglecting you guys! so i tried my best to finish it, however i literally hate this fic so much so please don’t come at me bc i know its shit😛 its around like 1.3k words so… take it or leave it ig.

“Hey, so uh, you come here often?” The boy says, rubbing his nose with his right finger while motioning with his beer filled hand to the party further down the beach.

Your friend had dragged you to one of the weekend bonfires at the beach, kooks only of course. Which is exactly what you were, a sheltered, spoilt, kook. Right down to the core.

Your family had given you everything you ever wanted growing up, paying for homeschooling from the best private tutor on the island, buying you whatever the new pair of heels on the market was, but that never deterred your sweet heart.

You weren’t a prude and even though you were, you didn’t act spoilt, you appreciated everything your family did for you. You didn’t have many friends considering the private life you lived. Your best friend was your neighbour, both of you having grown up together, your father and hers both being in the same business really tied the strings in your friendship.

She was quite the opposite of you, partying every weekend, hanging out with boys and drinking to the point she was incapable of walking. Long story short, she had begged you to come, a promise of a sleepover and movie night afterwards.

Except that wasn’t the case. Within 15 minutes she had found a new man to latch onto, leaving you sitting by yourself on a wooden log infront of a small campfire someone must’ve ditched.

You looked up, a tall muscular boy with a backwards cap staring down at you, his pretty blues lighting up in the reflection of the fire. You didn’t answer him, being too caught up in the flare of his strong presence. His aura was engulfing, your body instantly being drawn to him.

You didn’t know it of course, but Rafe did.

One look at your pretty face and the sweet scent of your purity and he just knew he had to have it. A smirk appeared on the boys face as he took a seat on the log next to you, his eyes never leaving your own.

“Gonna’ answer me, sweetheart?”

“Uhm, n-no not really, it’s my first. My friends around here somewhere… not sure where she went.” You murmured.

Rafes smirk widened, how blessed he was to have stumbled upon a sweet, innocent, little bunny like you.

“S’okay. I can keep you company. Name’s Rafe.”

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a little white baggie filled with a powdery substance. Noticing your stare he asks “You want some?”

“What is that stuff?” you mumble, knitting your eyebrows together in confusion.

“This shits the good stuff, s’ like powdered sugar. Gets you feelin’ real good, one line of this and you’ll feel on top of the world, sweetheart.” he smirks moving closer to the point your knees touch, yet his eyes still don’t leave your own.

“C’mere, lay back a little.” and do you do.

Without question.

Which of course stirs Rafe’s dominant instinct, he just cant stop thinking about shoving you onto your knees and fucking your throat til you choke on his fat cock.

But he’ll save that for later.

Rafe proceeds to pour a little powder onto your chest, sitting perfectly above your perky tits. He then reaches into his pocket and picks out a bank card, then using it to create a smooth line on your chest.

He moves in. Snorting the line right off your tits. A tingly feeling appeared in between your thighs. The sensation of his hot breath on your chest making your own increase.

He leans back and looks towards the sky, his curtains framing his face as he does so, lifting a finger and closing a nostril he sniffs deeply, sighing in relief afterwards. “See, easy as that. Your turn, beautiful.”

“M’kay” you shrug.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Rafe shifts on the log, lying down on his back and spreading his lets wide. He repeats the process on his abs, pouring the coke, creating the line and then ushering you forwards.

“Remember. All you gotta’ do is cover one of your nostrils, and use the other to sniff it right up. You got that?”

“Mhm” You nod excitedly.

“Ah ah ah. Use your words.”

“Yes Rafe. I got it.” You whisper, your pretty doe eyes staring up at him.

“Good girl.” He groans as you begin to snort the coke from his abs. His cock is painfully hard which obviously you didn’t notice, his pre cum leaking from his swollen tip, desperate to have your soppy cunt wrapped around it.

Within 5 minutes the drugs had hit you.

Your head was spinning and your control of your own body wavy, your movements restricted.

“I-i feel kinda fuzzy. Don’t like it…think i’m gonna’ go home now.” Rafe debates begging you to stay, but a better plan crosses his mind.

An eery smirk appears across his handsome features. “How about i walk you, s’ not safe for a pretty girl like you to be out in the dark all by yourself.”

The second you’re out of sight from the beach a hand wraps around your mouth, Rafe’s body pressing your own against a tall tree, blocking any escape. Your eyes go wide in fear, tears beginning to well up as you attempt to scream.

Your tears should make him irritated, angry even. But it doesn’t. It only turns him on more. His dick growing harder by the second.

“Shut the fuck up or i-i swear to god i’ll slit your throat. Can’t believe you kept this innocent act up. I can practically smell how soaked you are you fuckin’ slut.”

Before you can even think of screaming you’re cut off by your own wail as Rafe’s cock disappears between your folds. He bottoms out in one harsh thrust, your legs become slack as he grips your hips, holding you upright on his length.

“So fuckin’ tight. Gonna’ fuck you so good you’ll forget your own god damn name.” He growls.

The sound of clapping skin begins to echo, the skin of your ass turning raw due to his brutal thrusts. The tears don’t stop, only beginning to mix with the drool and sweat leaking down your face. Your wails and whimpers turn to moans as your cunt soaks his length.

Rafe knew you were perfect, that’s why he picked you. But this just proved him right.

“Fuckkk. You like that? Who knew you’d be such a dirty whore f’ me.” He chuckles, throwing his head back in ecstasy, yet his thrusts don’t slow. His pace almost animalistic.

The sensation of your pussy clenching tells Rafe what he wanted to know.

Rafe lets out a loud groan. “Jesus. You’re gonna’ fuckin’ cum aren’t you? Getting off on your rapists cock. Ask me. Ask daddy if you can cum.”

His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing tightly as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Please can i cum daddy? I need it s-so bad.” You whine, shifting your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on his shaft, your back still pinned against the tree.

“Cum. Cum for daddy. Holy shitttt, pussys grippin’ me like a fuckin’ vice.”

Your cream coats his cock as you scream, biting your lip harshly to try and muffle your pleasure.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if the whole beach heard that from here you dumb slut.” He groans, lifting a hand to fist your hair, tugging harshly.

His thick cock continues to pummel your insides, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

As Rafe looks down he notices a glint of red at the base of his shaft. The sight of your cream and blood alone brings him closer to the edge.

“Gonna’ cum in this pretty cunt, can’t wait to fill you up, baby. Daddy’s gonna’ cum.”

His release is met with a loud growl, his balls throbbing as his load fills you, thick ropes of his hot cum shoot into your pussy.

“That’s ittttt. fuck. Taking my cum like such a good girl.”

Rafe is slow to pull out, inching you off his cock as he pants trying to catch his breath. His hold however never leaves you, ensuring you don’t fall due to the brutal fucking you just received.

His attention is grabbed at the sound of your sobs, his thumb swiping over your cheek and collecting your tears. His pretty blues stare into your own, almost waiting for you to run.

But you don’t.

“Shh Shh Shh. No more tears. Daddy’s gonna’ take care of you from now on.”

[dove-da-birb]

Thanks @azulashengrottospiano for inspiring me to finally make this

Yes people are missing but it was a premade tier list

Nokto is soley there to annoy Yves and Licht

[inkdrinkerworld]

“Remmy look!” You point to a little jumper that certainly won’t fit either of you but he smiles anyway.

You’re seven months pregnant and Lily had warned you both that nesting took real effect now.

You’re out in town, just looking for little bits and odd ends to finish your baby’s nursery and a few more wintery clothes for them.

The jumper you’re pointing at is a small, buttercup yellow knitted thing and you can just see how perfect it would look on your daughter.

Instinctively, your hand rubs down your bump.

“Let’s have a look around then, dove.”

He helps you over the steps and further into the store. Remus realises belatedly that this may not have been the best idea because even he gets sucked into the tiny jumpers and onesies that would no doubt look adorable on your baby girl.

“Three things,” you limit the both of you, but both you and Remus know you’ll more likely be leaving with three bags.

You pick up the knitted jumper first, the pale buttercup yellow gorgeous and soft and it makes you wonder if they’d have your size too.

Remus picks the next thing, a cute baby blue onesie with little bunnies on them and booties with grips on the feet. “She’s gonna be so tiny.” He mutters, wonder taking over his tone because it’s truly amazing to think about.

“She is.” You browse around the store for a bit again, when you spot it.

The most gorgeous red and green plaid night dress- it’s also the most Christmas thing ever but you’re having a winter baby, it can’t be helped.

“Remus, look at it.” You waddle to the rack with the dress and rifle through till you find a newborn size and a size that she’ll be able to wear this time next year.

You hold it against your belly, slightly out of breath while Remus smiles. You glow with something fierce and even more powerful with your pregnancy, this sort of beauty that he harps on at night while you’re both soft and warm from a shower in your comfies while he rubs lotion on your bump.

“We’ll have to get booties for her, and maybe even stockings.”

You find them and get out of the store, the cashier smiling at you as Remus rubs your back when there’s a harsh kick against your ribs.

“Ready to get home? I just have to put the cottage pie in the oven.” He asks as he taps his card, your head resting on his bicep.

“Could we get a ginger ale on the way back?”

Remus nods, kissing your temple.

He holds open the door for you, hand on the small of your back as you walk down the step. “Just have to pop into the bookstore to pick up the books we ordered and we can get going, dove.”