#she's not a wounded lil fawn

[the-badger-mole]

Listen....I don't care how old the person is, or how they're related to me, if someone tried- and nearly succeeded in killing me, I no longer feel an obligation to care about their humanity. It is madness to me that people insist that Iroh owed Azula anything after that, and to say that he was even a little wrong for saying she was "crazy and needed to go down" is mind boggling to me. I don't care that Ehaz was a writer- one of the best writers on the show. He is WRONG about Azula.

[fawningvictim]

╰┄➤ hi <3 call me doe/lola !

    ╭┄┈┄────────❥•

     │⋮ 19 + black

    │⋮ she/they + queer

     │⋮ switch (sub lean)

     │⋮ taboo + hard kinks

    ╰┄┈┄──❥

back up: @deerforslaughter

my tags -

fawn’s sweet stuff 🌿 - yucky stuff

fawn’s talkin 🌱 - just me talkin

┄┈┄──❥•

kinks - big brother x lil sis + dad x daughter, (false) incest, pet play, rape play, crying, teddy humping, camgirl/pay star, paypigs, praise, masked men, size kink, breath play, gun + knife play, fearplay, stalking, wound fucking, submissive men, bondage, forced submission, impact play, degradation, crying, edging + orgasm control, begging, pet names, blood play, breeding, public play, humiliation, black mail, ownership, possessiveness

┄┈┄──❥•

my sweet anons- 🍂, 🌴

dms are always open! pls send asks!

[alluringnectar]

Timeless

abby anderson x fem!reader

a/n: srry ts might b a lil short lol, kinda rushed

summary: you go on a patrol with abby

warnings: sfw, slow burn, js kinda angst, not rlly tho

pt. 1 , pt. 2, pt. 3

it’s 5:45 in the morning.

the sky is still dark, you can hear the hums of cicadas and the hoots of owls.

you’re in the back of a W.L.F. truck, holding double barreled shot gun. infront of your view is alice and abby. even though its pitch black out, her features illuminate like the moon; at that point moths would even be attracted.

you didn’t realize you were even bouncing your leg until abby held your leg.

“nervous?” she asked, chuckling. “yeah, it’s my first patrol since i ever got promoted” you shyly admitted, “i’m scared im gonna fuck things up.” abby listened to you intently, finding comfort in your pure honesty. “everyone fucks up once in every while, it doesn’t get easier, just easier to handle.” you smiled, full of teeth, thanking her.

how could this even be the same girl Mel was talking about?

the truck comes to an abrupt halt, signaling it’s time to hop off. Abby, Alice, & you jump off, thanking the W.L.F. driver. “good luck girls!”

as you walk into the abandoned ruins of what was once a beauty thriving city, abby pulls out a map. “there should be a hospital around here somewhere. orders are to clear it and get all supplies.” you nod, following her as she walks to the abandoned hospital.

as you walk in, you feel shivers. you turn to look at abby, but she has a sad look on her eyes, like a sad puppy dog.

you hear barks, that takes you out of your thoughts. both abby and you flinched.

alice is barking at this door, abby and you budge it open.

then out of no where, a stalker jumps you. before you can take out your pistol, abby grabs a shiv and stabs it in the throat.

it lays there, blood seeping out.

“are you okay?” abby asks you, “yes, im fine thank you.” abby offers her hand and you take her in.

both you and abby look around the room.

its a chapel.

“ it’s pretty, isn’t it?” you say to abby as you admire the alter, the benches that once had many families praying for patients to get better. abby hums, and she asks, “do you believe in God?” you tell her, “I believe in God, i just dont know if he believes in me.” abby looks at you, “what do you mean?” “i believe he is real when i see fawns and their mothers taking care of eachother. i believe he is real when i see the sun taking care of the plants as the sunrays reach them. i feel like God doesn’t believe me when i see the sufferings of this world, when i lose the people i love, or i see the once humans so alive, laughing, crying, and other emotions trapped in all the fungus.” abby looks at you, intently staring and picking up at every feature.

“do you?” you ask, snapping abby out of her trance. “do i what?” abby asks. “believe in God?” abby sighs , “if God was real, maybe he wouldn’t have taken away my farther.” your heart hurts for her, and you embrace her, letting her know shes not alone. she returns it, holding you tight

you feel a sharp pain the back of your shin, causing you to hiss. “whats wrong?” abby asks you worryingly. you pull up your pants and replied “glass must’ve cut me with that stalker was on me.” “i don’t know how i didn’t feel it, must’ve been the adrenaline” you joke, causing abby to laugh.

“sit down, ill get you treated” abby says.

she wraps your leg and puts anti infection cream all over as she cleaned the wound.

“how do you know how to do all this?”

“my dad was a doctor, i only learned from the best.”

“your father was blessed to have you.”

“he would’ve liked you.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“let’s report back to base, we have supplies now anyways.”

you learned her farther name was Jerry.

as abby, alice, and you go back to base, alice is put into her kennel.

“see you soon alice!!” you both yell.

abby and you report your findings to other W.L.F. members then abby takes you to the infirmary because she swears it’s necessary.

and she isn’t wrong because Nora is telling you with an injury that severe you need to stay home and supervised.

abby volunteers, and now she’s next to you on the couch, with you falling asleep on her shoulder.

she could get used to this view.

[wishcamper]

i can picture it (after all these days)

Of all the things she had expected since becoming an aunt, the spikes of envy that shot through her watching her father fawn over Nyx had not been among them.

She wasn't jealous of a baby. She really wasn't. But that was what began this whole saga, when she looked back. Her nephew’s birth unlocked something painful that wound its way up inside her, seeking to surface. A deep sense of injustice, an anger at her father for having the ability to love her, to protect her all along and choosing not to. Beneath that lay a deeper darkness, an older fear.

---

Against the backdrop of a lazy Saturday, Nesta struggles with recovered memories of physical abuse by her grandmother as she and Cassian debate the choice to have children. A lil angsty, a lil fluffy, a lil in-between. Cozy Angst.

CW: mentions of child abuse, PTSD recovery, negative self-talk/self-hatred, light sexual content. (None of the abuse is described in detail, only alluded to.)

Read on ao3.

[therosepetalrps]

@shiftingmuse ・❥・continued thread

Father Joseph MacAvoy had been in the town of Middleburgh for most of his life as the local priest. The Catholic Church didn't have much pull in the area, so he was mostly on his own. A small but fair flock mixed with the leads of a man who was questioning his life. "Nobody?" He was on edge; he knew something was going on much worse than he first realized. "Y-you're speaking of vestments, that's not something I wear often." His parish had only seen him in such robes on the more proper religious holidays. "Cut?" He reached up quickly to touch his face; the adrenaline from running back to the church hadn't registered the gash. "Shite!" Joseph winced at the pain of touching the wound with his hand. "Th-the beggar, he cut me!"  The priest's eyes lowered away from the woman for a moment as he took a step back. It only took one step for the man to reach his steps with the back of his foot. His heel hit hard enough to cause a chain reaction, and the man fell backward onto the concrete behind him. "Fuck!" MacAvoy shouted, hitting the ground, his eyes shooting up at the woman with true fear in them. "Wh-why are ye here?"

He looked small cowering on the ground. Hierophant liked small things; babies, and kittens, and those little porcelain Hummel figurines that were so pink-cheeked, they looked like they had rosacea.

She stood, leaning over him, red lips pulled into an insincere smile. "Can't a nice girl stop by for a lil' reflection 'n repentance? Or are churches 'invite only' on this side'a the pond?"

She crouched down in front of him, leaning further into his personal space. "Are ya always so clumsy?" she asked. "Reckon it's a good thing you ain't wearing those vestments after all. Ya'd trip all over your damn skirt walkin' to and from the pulpit."

Knobbly-kneed and stumbling over his own feet, he reminded Hiero of a newborn fawn. And those huge brown doe eyes - glassy and frightened, as though staring into the headlights of an oncoming truck. It was cute, in a pathetic sort of way. Hiero liked pathetic, too. Her eyes followed a droplet of blood as it slid down his cheek.

"An' what's this about a beggar? Last I checked, we weren't in Oliver Twist or nothin'."

[kit-williams]

Barn Anon. I do like to imagine space marines are like… I don’t know. Owning a venomous snake? There’s the crowd that sees them as a dangerous animals, there’s the side that goes, awwww who’s a cute lil danger noodle~ boop!

Yet I suppose it’s sorta like meeting a whale in the ocean? Something so massive and intelligent yet the language barrier meant neither of you could ever truly understand what’s going on in each other’s heads. It’s overwhelming, terrifying and alluring. It can easily crush you and certainly also level your house and flatten your car, yet it chooses not to and even indulge your attention. Letting you coo and fawn over it like it’s a sweet little kitten or a puppy. Most people are scared of them yet for us? It pulls us in like moths to a flame. I.. That’s a good thing right? Right?

If you've been enjoying how I've been writing under the Space Marine Husbandry tag then you do know I lean more towards them being akin to a whale vs the danger noodle side.

I will be taking the fact you continue to call yourself Barn Anon that you've been enjoying that.

I'm sorry I had to write something angsty

You were setting the table as the warm summer continues to bleed like a dying animal... slowly and in a state of life or death that seems to feel endless and numbing at the same time.

Castle was outside just glancing at the tree line occasionally. His weapon by his side as something had agitated him... you didn't know what but you didn't question it. You walk back onto the porch, "Kids come in an clean up!" You yell but only see three of your four...

-----

She sobbed as she limped and stumbled as fast as her feet could carry her. She looks behind her seeing the glowing red eye lenses watch her as the feral marine follows her at a lazy pace. It had croaked out 'Castle' a few times and she was so scared. Castle would know what to do. But it soon lunged at her only missing by a hairs width and that's when she screamed.

------

You turned your head toward the woods, eyes widening as you're sure you heard a scream but by the time you blinked Castle was already at the tree line sprinting into the woods. You held your breath till the distant sound of his side arm going off. "Kids get into the storm cellar now!" You shout as you rushed to the side of the house and unlocked the heavy doors Castle helped install.

You soon see your Charlie break the tree line sobbing covered in cuts and knees scrapped up as something tries to follow her out of the tree line before you watch Castle slam into it. Everything bled into that slow summer time as you held your breath feeling the painful burn of your lungs. With how fast they were moving you could hardly tell the colors of the assailant.

Grandma had only seen Castle fight once... it was once of the few times she thought he was something far more. You were hardly religious but seeing him and the feral marine fight was akin to watching an angel and demon fight. How Castle kept him from grabbing Charlie as the only evidence of their attempt was the furrows in the ground from Castle standing between the two.

You finally broke free of the haze as the lazily bleeding wound of time started to gush again and you felt your legs and lungs burn as you ran. Charlie felt heavy in your arms, far from being the tottling toddler that she once was, but that hardly mattered as you grabbed her and rushed into the storm cellar locking it.

Time once more returned to a slow crawl as you could hear faint sounds of slamming... of a chainsaw rev and of course his side arm... but then it grew quiet oh so very quiet. You hear a knock to the tune of 'Shave and a Haircut' which was your agreed upon callsign to open the storm door.

Castle looked tired his armor paint scrapped even more... a gash on his forehead that wasn't bleeding anymore. You watched his worried eyes roam over each of your kids as if truly making sure that they were all there before he reached out and hugged Charlie muttering something in his language as she cried.

Castle hardly spoke but he whispered to you, "I'll take care of the body. Medica servitor is in back wall... have it look over Charlie." Is all he said before he left.

-----

It was late at night by the time Castle returned having stripped the other marine of his armor and weapons... he took their geneseed and made the trek to his base. The storm cellar acted as his room for the most part. He looked at the covered plate on his table and the note from you. All it simply said was Dinner and a thank you.

And Castle could live with that for tonight.

[darkdemeter]

If Child Reader actually stayed with Vulgrim and wasn’t discovered so soon, I think she would have some uncle/niece relationship with him along with Auntie Dis! Would it be child labor if she helped him with his shop in exchange for food, clothes, and sleep until he finds a way back to Earth? Though, the reactions of the Horsemen when they see S/O just when they want to shop at Vulgrim’s and she’s just like, Hi! 🤗Would be pretty hilarious.

Anon… no joke… but I have that exact dynamic in mind for child reader, Vulgrim and Dis! Legit an uncle/niece/auntie and all it’s beginning glory in Guide Her Way Home part 5!

(Though Dis is set on being called Mama Dis.. SPOILERS!)

Vulgrim would have taken her with him, considering her circumstances. Dis would be over the fucking moon having the lil bub around. ☺️ and yes that would be what she calls you: Lil’ Bub. And as for child labour… not according to Vulgrim and the laws of his domain it’s not. DUN DUN. Now he wouldn’t be like over exerting her or anything, he’d just kinda treat her like that pet he isn’t all lovely dovie fawning over/little assistant. As for Strife and War’s reaction to seeing reader is the VOID of all places…. Yeah, it would be pretty hilarious. 😂

GUIDE HER WAY HOME: A LITTLE HELPER (What If...?)

◤✘DARKSIDERS REQUESTS | CATALOGUE (Platonic!) Vulgrim + Dis x Female Child!Reader, feat. Strife and War

────────────────────────

Yes, when the demon trader found you wandering on your lonesome, it was something of an odd happening. How you managed to slip through a serpent hole is his guess. It was hard enough trying to set those pesky summoning rings with the Earth’s intense ward that protected it from any interfering entities. He’s thought that it would have healed right up like a wound.

However, you managed to prove his theory incorrect. When the Horsemen were nowhere to be found, he decided to return to the confines of the void, beckoning you to follow him.

And that his how you became the estranged yet adopted child of the Soul Eater. More, however, you were something of a niece to him than a daughter… or a pest.

Vulgrim often had you complete simple tasks for him or to follow him around. To observe what he was doing. In exchange for food, new clothes and a safe place to remain until he could somehow get you back home, you were to become his little helper. Many would consider this utterly cruel of the demon trader until they see you, a keen little thing that would skip behind him, humming loudly to yourself. The darkened, silken mists and liquefied atmosphere of the void would ripple from the sound.

Sometimes he would be traversing the platforms, hovering with his usual hunched frame and talon-like hands curled together in deep, pondering thought; meanwhile you would happily be latched hold of the tunic about his waist that almost grazed the floor and be dragged along.

It was a fun little game that proved to be unending amusement for Dis and very little to Vulgrim.

“What have you got there, Lil Bub?” Dis says with a low, interested hum as she narrows her focus on the book you’re carrying. “Vulgim wants this one,” you say, small palm smacking the leather-bound cover.

“Well you bring that right on to him, now.” Her arms reach down to gently coheres you into the direction that Vulgrim would be. “Go on, now.”

You sat atop a small ledge, overseeing Vulgrim’s work at the cauldron. He put many strange and mysterious objects in, some making you curiously dip your nose down to see it closer or made you all icky and squirmy.

The book rested against its leaning podium, opened to the book’s centre to reveal a list of ingredients, scribbled texts and drawn illustrations. There was much you didn’t understand, but Vulgrim would turn to the makeshift shelf you were upon, already training you to commit each jar and threaded bundle to memory.

“The jar of imp teeth, youngling and the stock of dried, blood leaves.” His finger angled sharply to the far end of the shelf, watching closely as you moved about. You would shuffle and move along to the jar and pushed it closer to him.

As your reward for helping him craft a powerful potion, he presented you with a loaf of bread which you happily ate with some water, and a small cloak to replace the ratted scarf you still wore from when he first found you. It was soft, comfortable and warm. He then picks you up to retrieve you from the shelf, hesitatingly and sneering.

“Thank you, Uncle Vulgim!” You grin widely and wrap your arms around him to envelop him in a hug. Your soul radiates with that pulsating shine that he winced from, growling to himself to the raw intensity of it. Half the time he had begun draping a veil of blindfold over his eyes just so he wouldn’t be blinded from it. The random moments where that glowing light penetrated through the void, almost burning it.

“Naw, ain’t that the sweetest thing?” Dis chuckles, having floated over to collect the potion that the horsemen would be coming to collect soon along with their usual supplies.

Vulgrim snarls, sharp and aggressive but you don’t flinch at the noise. Dis has to practically peel you from Vulgrim and he nestled to close to her front, her dark nails tender to poke your nose with an affectionate boop.

“Auntie Dis!” You beam, giggling and your small hands reach out to pat and grab at the beautiful curve of her horns. She chuckles again, her lips parted open to produce the sound louder this time. “Now, how’s about you come and help me? We have a few things to get in order for our most recent and important fellas.”

“Okay!”

Vulgrim watches as Dis takes you with her, his breath stifled in the lithe and rattling channel of his shrivelled ribcage as you wave over Dis’ shoulder at him, still grinning.

“I help you soon Uncle Vulgim!”

Dis had left you — just for a moment. She assured you that she would be quick. Vulgrim had sputtered out a strong usage of demonic cusses that Dis found fitting to cover your ears from despite you not being able to understand. She didn’t want you knowing any of those words anytime soon. Apparently during the creation of another potion, something went amiss and Dis needed to help the demon trader turn around his mistake.

“Now, if our customers get here…”

You point at the bottle. “I give ‘em thwis”

“That’s my girl.” Dis is careful whenever she’d pinch the cute apple of your cheeks and you giggle, waving after her until she’s gone.

Some time passes by until you hear the undeniable beat of feet. That’s how you knew that the customers had arrived.

“Where is Dis?” One of them says, his tone carrying an air of annoyance. Something heavy falls to the ground, the cobbles of the platform absorbing the sound with a greasy, muffled thump.

“I do not know,” the other responds, his voice far deeper than the other. They’ve walked past you at this point, wandering over to the pink steaming cauldron Dis occupies with keen knowledge. You’ve always been fascinated about it and it also smells much better than Vulgrim’s concoctions.

The large ledger that you look over has been standing up, hiding you from view. You let it fall against the counter with a thud.

Eyes moving to the two Horsemen, you greet them with a smile. “Hello.”

Both War and Strife flinch, the gunslinging nephilim’s boots rapping on the stone flooring fast. “Whoa, hey hey— what in the hell?”

“A… human child?” War asks, a white brow raised high to hide further beneath his hood.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you!” War and Strife continue to stare, both canvases of something of blank stun.

“Your potion here.” You take a moment to wander behind the counter and come back, carrying a rather large elixir that threatens to topple you back as you carry it towards them.

Strife steps forward to grasp at the bottle’s neck, stabilising you. With an appreciative nod, you let him take the bottle and you perk up, raising a finger as if to tell him to wait. You rush off towards the ledger, using the levelled forms of books that created a small stairway for you and you look over the page.

“What the actual fuck is going on?” Strife whispers to War who shrugs in response. Indeed it is a bewildering sight to behold. A human child of all possible beings to be what they could only imagine being enslaved.

You hum to yourself, thinking and then you beckon the riders over to which they comply. “What dwoes this say?” You ask and point to the number on the page listed next to the elixir bottle.

Ah but of course…

How easy it would have been to lie to you. To get a cheap discount off of this one. If there was ever a chance like that, Strife was always putting his chips in much to his brother’s precious honour getting bruised.

But he couldn’t lie. He couldn’t take advantage of this situation.

Clearing his throat, he correctly informs you of the amount. “That will be two hundred souls, pwease.”

They pass you an amulet containing the payment and you grab it, thanking them for their business.

“Child, may I ask why you’re here?” It’s War who asks. He just wants to ensure you’ve not been imprisoned…

“I’m here with my Uncle Vulgim and Auntie Dis! I am their lil’ helpwer.”

Strife leans down slightly, the colourful adornment of his scarf catching your notice and then you meet the flickering, golden light of his eyes behind his mask.

“Are you alright? Do you need rescuing? Blink twice if you are under any sort of soul contract, duty binding blood-rituals or sacrificial obligation?”

You giggle with a small wrinkle to your nose. Your voice is mousy still tinged with your amused laughter. “You funny.”

“Did you say Uncle and Aunt?”

You nod to War’s question. “Mhm! I did.”

Strife can’t help but lean in close for War’s hearing. “This is obviously some sort of abduction. I say we kill Vulgrim.”

[fucktheark]

(some) creepypasta/marble hornets music hcs :)

these are mostly from my own playlist they aren't accurate at all this is just 4 funsies lololol

also i highly doubt anyone will even see this post but if u do drop a song rec plz im struggling finding new music </3

tim (specifically him cs masky is too busy going apeshit 4 music)

old man music but like cool old man music (this is just what my father listens to LOL)

thinks he's got peak taste and snickers at everybody else's song choices

breathe - pink floyd

pet sematary - ramones

the chain - fleetwood mac

aerials - soad

lover, you should've come over - jeff buckley

hoodie

i pulled this out of my ass tbh but imagine 80s fan brian

kinda likes lil peep but would never tell a soul cs he thinks he's too old for it

doesn't rly share his music with anyone bcs he's afraid they're not gonna clown him for it

she's in parties - bauhaus

the brightside - lil peep

the ghost in you - psychedelic furs

messages - a flock of seagulls

hotel california - the eagles (cz y not)

jane

i never rly obsessed over her so this is js based on the vibes i get from the art i've seen of her (so pretty bruh)

echolalia - faetooth

nine while nine - sisters of mercy

closet - fleshwater

engine no. 9 - deftones

frigid and spellbound - spectral wound

nina

no way totally unexpected music

i think eventually she grew out of screamo and scene but never rly let emo go entirely

acid - ghost town

get away with murder - jeffree star (yikes)

what you need - bmth

freaxx - brokencyde (she's been in love with this album since it came out)

vampires will never hurt you - mcr

jeff

i like think that after what he did to his family he just kinda checked out from earth and stopped keeping up with most pop culture, so he's still listening to the same music he did back then.

peak edgy middle schooler vibes

never tires of his playlist

every now and again he comes across something new and gets obsessed with it immediately and probably forever

yen - slipknot

makedamnsure - taking back sunday

don't go - bmth

tourniquet - marilyn manson

crewcabanger - chelsea grin

toby

I-C-P FOREVER WITH THE JUGGALOSSSSSS

still enjoys twiztid even after the beef but secretly because it makes him feel like a poser

also likes jeff buckley but feels kinda cringe for it

the stalker - icp

house of mirrors - icp

my 1st time - dark lotus

2nd hand smoke - twiztid

grace - jeff buckley

liu

same reasoning as jane i know like nothing about this dude and even less about sully so i'm not even gonna attempt .

i fw his vibe tho

eye - smashing pumpkins

the man who sold the world - nirvana

heaven - talking heads

the sickness - imminence (he's gotta be a lil emo come on)

siamese twins - the cure

eyeless jack

this one is kinda hard tbh but considering his hypersensitivity to sound, i feel like he wouldn't enjoy anything too noisy

likes songs with a lot of bass because he can feel the bass reverberating through his body when he wears headphones

soft/airy vocals!!!! he hates screaming

doesn't rly stick with a specific genre just whatever makes his ears tingle lol

a forest - the cure

dark stone - holy fawn

hide and seek #1 - plastic tree

the thing - pixies

collabo - june freedom

BEN

bitch spends so much time on the internet he discovers new music every day

listens to everything but tries to flex the really obscure shit he finds in the depths of youtube (he wants to be cool but it's kind of pathetic.)

his playlist is MASSIVE and a mess, he usually has to skip through half of it before finding something he actually likes

i don't know why but he'd be into haunted mound

plays the majora's mask soundtrack when he can't think of anything to listen to

husqrider - turnabout

fentanylism - opiated devilsperm

starting over - lsd and the search for god

gou zin zan goku - deviloof

ugliest - $uicideboy$

laughing jack

he's old af and probably doesn't get modern music tbh

classical music it is

and opera

i'm not gonna make a whole playlist but he really loves erlkönig because of the story lol

[messrmoonyy]

what’s up it’s the tess thirster again except this time, as much as i want her to rail me into next tuesday, i’m thinking very soft thoughts 🫶🏻 i read a fic yesterday about her taking care of you after you get hurt and becoming super protective and it gave me all the feels. all i want right now is to have her fawn over my little injuries, to set me down and clean up the wounds with a gentleness she wouldn’t dare display in front of anybody else. for her to check me over for any other bruises or cuts or marks with a soft touch. for her to run her thumb over my bruised knuckles so lightly. for her to look at me with anger but also worry and ask me who did this, because it’s one thing to touch her, but it’s another to touch a person she loves, and by hell is she gonna find the guy who did this and make them pay. maybe this is slightly out of character but it’s my imagination so what i say Goes. this is many words just for me to say i love soft tess :’)))

Hello there my fav!

Soft Tess is everything. Nothing gets me more than a woman that is hard as nails but has a singular soft spot for one person.

Like people are literally scared of Tess, they do what the fuck she says because they’re afraid of what she’ll do if they don’t. Like look at the lil scene in the game with Malik, you got Joel who’s clearly bigger and scarier than Tess yet Malik tried to square up to him. Yet one word from Tess and he was backing down? She’s big and scary to everyone. Except for you. Those hands that have fucked up more people than she can count? Gentle with you, soothing, soft. She’d take all the time and care in the world to make you feel better, patch you up and make sure you’re okay.

And she absolutely will not let anyone hurt a hair on your head and if they do? They should count their fuckin days cause you do not fuck with Tess’ girl. Most people know that already but if anyone is stupid enough to try it, she’ll know who it is within the hour and have it dealt with. You don’t mess with her girl. You just don’t.

[acecasinova]

Hi there!! :D fear, secret and wound for the ask meme for Lazarus + another OC who you want to talk about? :D

My scrungy boy!!! I'll also answer some for Fion, another scrungy boy currently in my head lol~

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

Lazarus: His greatest fear is being weak and powerless- feeling small and ineffectual (Like when Strahd forced him to turn into a newborn kitten, or when he couldn't hurt Kindness at all, even when he knew he landed a blow). It freaks him the F-CK out when it happens but his base instinct is always survival, so he'll bend to whatever force seems to be on top. (It's very fun when the loud, abrasive, and aggressive guy goes still and quiet~ but laying low and NOT fighting back when the odds are garbage have gotten him a lot farther than insulting someone much stronger to their face) ....And on that note it's not THAT hard to see when he's afraid- he's a terrible liar and you can definitely see the deference in his posture.

Fion: His biggest fear is rejection! Fion wants to please and be accepted sooooo so bad and he definitely ends up fawning when faced with people who are mad at him. He'll test the waters a little, but if he gets pushback, he'll retreat and agree and probably walk on eggshells around that person for a while. He doesn't openly talk about it, but it's behavioral so it's not impossible to pick up on.

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

Lazarus: Ohhhhhh he does NOT want people to find out the extent of what Strahd did to him before leaving him out for the party to find. It wasn't even anything physical, but he's still got the looming threat to the orphanage if anyone gets it out of him. (I'll say a lil more under a readmore so that it doesn't cut off the next one but people in the game don't read it if they're not butts)

Fion: HMMM well his biggest current secret that he'd die if people found out about is very topical to where they are right now story-wise.... Some of the group have found out he uses taboo magics, but no one knows he's a bit of a serial killer. Not that he'd phrase it like that- he goes after people who've been cruel to changelings and other species that are looked down on, and got.... maybe a little idea that the church and wizards might fall under fair game now too...

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced? Lazarus: He usually grits his teeth and deals with it- Laz is kinda just an overgrown feral cat, if a cat could turn into vermin or a red wolf lmao~ He'll usually sulk a little, maybe b-tch about it if the party is in a dungeon and he wants to bite somebody but they haven't fought anything alive in a while, but he tends to try and hide emotional or mental wounds and just not talk about them at all ever. (Which has just resulted in Laz being VERY emotionally stunted and bad at verbalizing things) Worst physical wound was probably when he tried to grab a little statuette for our party wizard, and whoops! Uh oh! Turns out evil and/or undead things can't touch it and it nuked him with radiant damage that ALMOST killed him on the spot, but it was just shy of twice his HP total, so he was only knocked out and fried his left arm to a crisp. The mental/emotional wounds really take the cake, though- the three days he spent arrested and chained up in that too-bright room with Kindness coming in just to repeatedly near-crush his windpipe and rip his fear of her wide open again, FOLLOWED by the humiliation of the carriage ride with her to Castle Ravenloft while she just raked what remained of his self worth over the coals was definitely a doozie. He REALLY hasn't recovered from that one yet but he also haven't tALKED about it to anyone because he's a prideful piece of sh-t who can't articulate his feelings.

Fion: His magical training really just put him through the wringer,,,, His mentor believed in "show don't tell" so he has first hand experience with all the spells he knows, like having maggots summoned in his stomach to eat their way out, or having his autonomy taken away. He's pretty accustomed to taking blow after blow, and usually takes them without complaint. His worst wound was probably when he was attacked while selling healing salves. Someone tried to rob him and ended up cutting him up. He lost his left eye in the attack and the shock of it nearly killed him, but he managed to stabilize himself after getting away.

So Laz's secret.....

He's a high enough leveled monk by 5e standards to be able to use "Stillness of Mind" and shake charms and such, and Strahd has underestimated him a few times before after dismissing him as a spawn. BUT Strahd found out Lazarus ISN'T a spawn, and is actually a full vampire in his own right, but he's a weird type that feeds on OTHER vampires and.... Strahd wants that under his thumb.

So after Laz got arrested (Long story of shenanigans but he f-cked up and his prey drive kicked in on a guard while reps from all three towns AND an entourage from Ravenloft were in town) and mentally beat to all sh-t by Kindness, Strahd showed up and offered him a "deal".

Lazarus could accept the charm Strahd was going to place on him. Or, he could try to resist it (historically something Laz has NEVER done successfully) and Strahd would go burn the Valaki orphanage to the ground and kill everyone here. That's Dissy's orphanage. That's where HE 'grew' up. So obviously he accepted the charm and now Strahd has a sleeper agent in the party. He STILL DOES. Lazarus cannot attack any sentient creature FIRST- they must attack him first. If no one has, he has to simply defend himself, but he's gotten to a point where he can assist others or use things like the "Cause Fear" effect on his mace. He can't let anyone try to help get rid of the charm or try to remove it himself. He also is forbidden from SPEAKING about the charm- he can't tell anyone why he can't attack or what Strahd did, and he can't tell them what might happen if he or someone else tries to remove the charm. (What might happen is Strahd burning the orphanage) ...And last but oh so certainly not least: He MUST obey if Strahd gives him a command with the trigger "would you kindly". (He hasn't tested if someone ELSE who isn't Strahd can also force him to do things with that phrase, but it's bad enough that Strahd can, and it isn't like Charm Person where it feels like they're your friend. Laz KNOWS what's happening but he can't do anything to stop himself from obeying and that, quite frankly, is the worst part for him)

[ahoyimlosingmymind]

NO I AM AN ALDEN HATER TOO. He's Lord Cassius in a different font. It's always ability > love. And Alden was a lil too willing to throw Fitz's concerns under the bus to keep Alvar on the property. Like Alvar hasn't been apart of the group that's tried to murder his other two children repeatedly??? WHAT. And Biana just goes into pure fawn mode, and I just-

all of their wildly different reactions to the Alvar situation tells me they are not a super firm 'family unit'

ANYWAY- YOU UNDERSTAND THE BLORBO SO WELL AUGH. You are correct.

Literally Fitz's only friend his entire childhood was Keefe- a kid who, weirdly enough also had emotionally distant parents who expected too much of him- like NO WONDER THEY WERE BESTIES. but nope- Shannon doesn't want to talk about that, she demonizes one and gives the other sympathy points. (*crying* we were robbed of their friendship. )

and then like... also... why did Alden and Della push to have a 3rd kid? if Fitz was already so wonderful and 'perfect', why would they risk tarnishing their reputation? something about that is just *off* in my brain.

and you notice a recurring pattern with Fitz's character, which is just radio silence when something big is going down, or a full mental angry breakdown. <- but no, of course that doesn't stem from any inner child developmental wounds... he's just angry and irrational... right??

I'm literally so normal about Fitz Vacker and how he's not only capable but entirely willing to kill for what he believes is the greater good. Maybe it's just Alvar or maybe it's Alvar bringing something out inside of him that's broken and vicious. He's overwhelmingly protective and so hungry for justice and what is supposed to be right. And he's not willing to do it because he's evil or because he doesn't care about life he's willing because he cares so incredibly deeply for the lives of those he chooses that it's almost blinding in its intensity. His morality is not absent it's powerful and intrinsic to his very being. He's spent his entire life literally being used as a tool of doing something wrong for the greater good, going to the forbidden cities when he was barely a child despite them being... forbidden. And risking his life and his education and his social development to become this thing which does what is necessary. His worldview is so oppressingly black and white and the benefit must always outweigh the potential harm it could cause not to himself or a single individual but to everyone else.

[muffindaddystyles]

KISMETS (Part 2)

Harry Styles x fem!reader.

Slow burn, platonic love and bunch of affection.

Fluff! Smut! Smut!

Frenemies to lovers, dad!Harry, Bestfriend!Harry.

Author's Note: The concept's kinda weird but if you've watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Phoebe Buffay carrying child for someone. You've got it my pal!

MASTERLIST PART ONE PART 3

"Oh pet . . you're jealous innit?" He swipes the tip of his finger over the waffle picking the puff of cream and swallowing it whole, "'M not! Why'd I be?" She squeals kicking at his boots.

"Always told me y'had a candy crush at Harold." He smirks mischievously. Spitting truth. She smacks his bicep with a wide open mouth.

Or

Y/N's carrying Harry's babies and is trying not be angry at him for pulling her into all of this with him.

//

Red's everywhere. It makes her pout. Everyone have someone to celebrate the day but she's the only one giving careless ears to Niall who's sitting opposite from her in the crispy lilac heart booth, "Mean ye' fought again with him?" He stirs the mango bobas in his drink wiggling his brows at her to fill him with some tea. She gasps full of drama and surprises, "What d'ya mean 'again? D'ya think 'm this crackhead that rips people in two for no-reason?" She whispers the last part when a waitress passed by them.

"No. Pet what 'm sayin' is --- you're too, feisty with Harry." He chuckles leaning to meet her betrayed gaze, "Did he bribe you with new golf stick? You've switched sides." She juts her bottom lip wet from pink marmalade drink and startles in her spot when Niall cackled ever so loud at her silliness.

"I just tol' him to go through Chessie marathon somewhere else than my home." Harry was at her flat as always. She was making red velvet strawberry flavoured muffins for the moment ( promised not to give it to Harry — "even if he'll beg") and then she fulfilled her promise when she saw him going through his pictures together with Chessie. The jealous little Y/N jumped out from her polite skin and she just tinsy bit mocked him, "I'd never look back at the person who'd have left me and my children. . ." That broke a mighty bit argument between the two idiots. How they're gonna take care of two babies when they themselves need a person to put them away from eachother?

"Oh pet . . you're jealous innit?" He swipes the tip of his finger over the waffle picking the puff of cream and swallowing it whole, "'M not! Why'd I be?" She squeals kicking at his boots.

"Always told me y'had a candy crush at Harold." He smirks mischievously. Spitting truth. She smacks his bicep with a wide open mouth. Sighing he grabs Y/N's hand knocking some sense into mama bear gently and making her nod with the each advice, "'s valentine's day 'course he misses her. His wounds are fresh they need ointment babe -- You've always been so good with him, what's the matter now?"

She circles her fingers round eachother. Sucking her lip harshly and not meeting Niall's intense stare, "Turns me mad that 'cos of one person we're here now." She mumbles caressing the belly button protruding from the flimsy fabric of her oversized hoodie.

"It's the fate, pet. Always tol' me how much you liked kids." She shakes her head in denial. "Not in this situation where 'm lost and doesn't know how it'll work out — " He cuts her off with concern.

"Talked to Harry bout it?" When she again denies he asks, "What you're gonna do about it then?"

"Dunno. Share?" She's new to all of this. What did she actually mean was that they could do it like how divorce parents do it, maybe? Doesn't know how Harry wants to handle the situation just leading a blind eye with him. Hasn't even considered getting ready for the life that'll come along with them.

"They're babies not a packet of crisps, Y/N!." He burst into giggles and she huffs slumping against the foggy window, "Pain in arse you're." She scoffs that pout still intact the whole time while Niall keeps on giggling finding it too funny.

. . .

Walking from the elevator to her flat's door seems like hiking a mountain for her and cherry ontop that the stares she gets from her neighbours is full of judgments. It makes her want to hide underneath her blankets and never pop her head out. Her brows coming together in wonder at the sight of small wood basket at her doorsteps.

"Oh my god don't tell me someone left a baby at my doorsteps, Hello!!!??" She spins here and there but finds no-one but empty hallways when a feeble sound coming from inside it almost made her tumble on her bum. The last thing she wants is not another baby. With a grunty noise she ducks down to lift the basket supporting it at her belly and unlocking the door while trying to squint inside it.

When she throws the lid away a fuzzy little grey creature with big mossy eyes was pawing in air needy for attention, a red choker with heart in centre around her lil neck. It almost brought her to tears. Blame her being extremely emotional these days.

"Awww. Hi!" She fawns picking it up from armpits inspecting the miracle kitten that's here outta no where. A crumpled note laying in the basket with a bunch of colourful disoriented flowers.

"'M sorry fo' throwin' a tantrum and leavin' all fussy. This's oreo. I want her to grow along my kids! Also forgive mee plssssss?"

She giggles throwing her head back snuggling oreo against her throat as she meowed adorably sweet, "Daddy's such a daft ehh?" She says in between breaths petting the new addition to her loved ones.

The first thing she does is call him and he picks on the very ring as if anticipating for it, "Come back home you fool." His smile was infectious as he taps his feet in his car a lil over joyed at the thought.

"So generous." Running upstairs as he used to in oast with anticipation to spill the tea of his day to her in any hour of the day. The door was already open, them standing at the either boundary line of flat. His first priority's always to shower his babies in evermost affection. Falls to his knees smushing his face to her belly quenching outta a ribs aching laugh from her as he caress his cheeks against the soft side of her womb murmuring things that's a secret between him and his babies.

"Hey Angels!" He greets them patching a loving tight kiss atop her belly button that tickles her softly, stands up and meets her teary gaze from laughing with much serenity it knocks breath from her, "Hi mama angel." His whisper fuses against her skin while kissing her cheek.

"Hi. ." She inhales in his woodish vanilla scent. Preventing from melting into his arms she pulls him back from shoulders grinning at him, "Let's ruin valentines watchin' Anne Hathaway's romcom." He tuts instead leading her with him to the sofa.

"Can't be better than that –— let me pop in some popcorns real quick."

. . .

The yellow carpeted floor's littered with candy wrappers, packets of half folded crisps, peach sodas and an empty bowl of popcorns. Oreo snoozing in her basket. They're on their fourth romcom. Her legs in his lap. His's on coffee table. He chuckles everytime she takes almost three minutes to be in a comfortable position, ushering her to sit up so he could put cushions under her.

"Are you craving nama chocolates?" She eyes him nipping at her blanket trying to snuggle closer to him. He runs his thumb at her shoulder blade in soothing circles peering down at her, "'m not pregnant. ye're moppet. havin' a sweet tooth?" When she nods sheepishly he shakes his head quickly hoping on his feet.

"Don't be shy --- dunno where ye' got this giddiness from, 'm your bestie. Gotta tell me yeah? Lemme grab me jacket." He grabs her from wrists helping her up and goes to her wardrobe to get her fist gloves, beanie and warm slippers.

When hears her huffing and puffing grunty-ly his head perks up with brows furrowed, "What's it babe?" He pads towards her and when she turns for him to have a look the zip of her jacket bursts open all the way to end revealing her bump.

She pouts sadly, "Nothin' fits me anymore." He just smiles adorning the same puppy look in his eyes as her's to light up the tension.

"I'll buy ye' new. Those cute maternity clothes, ehh?" Shimmies down the clothing from her shoulders, "oi you don't have to!" She retorts and he bobs his head taking his own puffer jacket off to wrap it round her small body.

"Yes I do." He mumbles zipping her all the way up warm and squishy in his jacket three sizes larger than her. Pulls her hair out and cups the nape of her neck with his calloused soft palm bringing her closer to feather a delicate kiss to her temple, ". . .deserves more than just clothes — deserves the world always gonna be thankful to ye, pet." She gulps the cobweb of silence down her throat fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

"What you'll wear? 'S cold." He gives her an elfin grin flaring a baby pink knitted cardigan he sneaked from her wardrobe, "Harry!" She squeals with a giggle, "You're gonna look like grann Matlinda."

"Ehm. 'etter not forget to send her a picture when 'm matchin' with her." He quips snapping his fingers.

. . .

They walk over the glittery layer of slushie snow and Harry walks infront of her two steps at a time capturing pictures of her as she prowls carefully trying to move the hood away from blocking her vision, "Ye'r walkin' like a penguin -- cutie!" He giggles with each echo of flash.

"Look who's saying an otter himself!" She mimics him and he blushes under the mellowness of street lamp. They're champs at pulling eachother's legs.

"It's soooooo slippery." She complains wiggling her fingers from under the sleeve, "Grab me hand 'n don't leave it kay?" He smiles like advising a three year old who's afraid of crowds in a market. His grip warm and safe for her.

. . .

"Aish. gimme gimme!" She gets all jumpy on her toes when Harry comes out of the shop with a box of chocolates and two sticks. "'Ey greedy pup." He chuckles booping her button nose opening the silky lid of box revealing the velvety delcious chocolates. He picks the stick up taking a piece of chocolate with it and hovering it over her little mouth. Scrunching his nose at how adorable she gets the moment she chews it.

"Hmm. 'S so soft!" She gulps wetting her cold lip getting all butterfly feeling when she catches him gazing down at her as if she hung the moon and saturns. Raises her brow for an inquiry if he's okay tugging him closer with a gentle clutch to his cardigan.

Their surroundings turning into ice crystals of blur carelessness, the noises of glimmering lights into lulls of whisper and their bodies cocooning into snuggly blanket when Harry's fingertips fluttered tenderly against her cheeks glueing her at the spot. Leans in to press his lips softly to her plush sweet ones in a heartwarming caring kiss that flooded her veins with warmth and made her brain mushy unable to think.

"Yours are softer lil penguin." He murmurs stroking the corner of her mouth and smirks when she squeaks a thank you in return.

"Such a cutie." He cooes squishing her blushed cheeks and kissing each of them with loud wet noise till she pushed him away wiping his wetness with a pout. "'M highly offended pet ya never used to wipe me kisses away."

She shuts him up by stuffing a chocolate in his mouth. Walking back home with his arms wrapped around her protectively as he comes up with silly jokes whole way.

. . .

Everything reminds her of him. That fuzz of kitten. The empty box of chocolate. Couldn't even focus on the work she's doing on her laptop. It's just that gooey feeling never left ---- now it has gotten stronger with it's mushk when Harry kissed her under that beautiful sky of wintery lilacs. If he's playing with her feelings he better not cause she'll break him in two in that case.

He was out shopping clothes for her when she texted him if he'll like to eat roasted chicken she made for lunch. The mere thought of him caring for her brings her to tears because before him nobody was there except only him that knew her from the depths of her heart.

"You look pretty. . ." She finds typing hard while laughing this loud as Harry sent her mirror pictures of him trying the maternity clothes himself that he's supposed to buy for her, "Thought a visual representation will be good idea ;)" He shrugs typing back with a grin standing bottom naked in the changing room getting a rolling eye emoji in return.

She yawns putting her phone aside when Harry got busy into his hunt for nice warm clothes for her. Something wasn't fine today. She's been changing sides for an hour now and she couldn't sleep. Her shoulders twitching with each blink of eye and when she finally slips into a light conscious sleep a bone rattling pain shoots through her whole damn body. She jolts from the state of haze and tries to sit up when another zap of pain makes her feel limbless. A feeble grunt of helping cry fizzes out of her when she feels a cramp at the bottom of her spine.

In her panicked state she fumbles for her phone dialing the first emergency number doesn't give him a chance to speak before she's yelling into receiver out of anxiousness, "Harry somethin' not right! — 'm m havin' these contractions —--" He's been out dining with Niall and shoots from his seat the minute her worried voice reached his ear.

"It's okay, lovie. yeah? 'M comin' take deep breaths how we practiced —-- I'll be there in a mo'." He assures her in his softest most pacific rasp but she shakes her head vigorously tears brimming in her sleepy eyes. Oreo tries to comfort her by sitting in her lap and rubbing her crown against her tummy.

"They aren't supposed to come this early . . . fo' fucks sake haven't even started my third trimester!" Harry doesn't know what to do except of consoling her and fidgeting around as Niall drives the car with same expressions of anxiousness and panic as Harry.

"Oh . . It's gone." She frowns in confusion able to sit now and it takes a little of burden away from Harry. He listens to the rustling going on her side jumping on his bum almost screaming into phone, "Stay where you're don' move!"

"Oh my god. They're back I'm not ready for this . . I'm not ready for this Harry." She cries and Harry even leaves Niall behind squeezing into the elevator fingers crossed at his back.

"'M here. Call our midwife can ye' do that fo' me, puppy?" She sniffs nodding to herself. Calling their assisted midwife with shaky fingers and tries to breath looking up at the ceiling.

In the meantime Harry's barging through the door pacing towards her in hurries steps. His face pale that if he has seen a ghost. She tries to saturate the distance between them knowing at this moment how much she wants him in her life.

He sits her back carefully crouches down and wipes her tears away, "'m so scared . ." She whispers squeezing his biceps and her phone's still ringing atop the sheets, "Don't be baby. Ye' have me — 'm not leavin' yer side."

He massages the dimples of her spine and runs warm hands at her sides to calm her down when their midwife picks up their call, "Hi. Is everything okay?"

"No Y/N's havin' these light contractions 'n 's not even the time of her labour." There's a pause from her side and Y/N bolts a worried glance at Harry in return he cradles her cheek to assure her.

"Oh . . that's nothin' to worry bout Mr. Styles. Those're some mild braxton hicks she might have mistaken with labour contractions." They both takes a sigh of relief but the little tick of pain keeps on coming and subsiding.

"They start at the beginning of third trimester, Y/N are you still getting 'em?" She asks her and Y/N clears her throat tugging the sheet beside her.

"Yes but less painful. Is that okay though?"

"Completely okay. Harry rest her against the headboard and push her knees upto her chest they'll be gone in a snap." He nods at her instructions helping Y/N lean against the headboard of bed gently and scooting between her thighs to do as she told.

"Better?" He whispers glancing up at her while wrapping his hands around her bended calves and pushing it slowly against her front, the move relaxing her pelvic muscles. Her head lulls at her shoulders from the effect and she hums from throat making Harry choke on his own spit.

He dares not to drift his gaze from her rigid features which are loosing it's tightness seconds after. Their breaths erratic from the humidity of sexual tension in the room when Y/N gets back to normal diverting her all attention to Harry who has his head tucked between her fleshy thighs. A blush creeping at her flushed cheeks and Harry gives her a flustered chuckle kissing the top of her knee to answer back Miss. Dori who's been asking how's Y/N.

"Stay hydrated and don't forget to take your vitamins." Saying this she ends the call. Y/N takes a huge sigh of relief spreading her legs back and Harry squeezes her ankles, "When was the last time you had a glass water?"

"Two hours ago." He rolls his eyes. "Supposed to be drinkin' every hour . . dehydration's s' unhealthy fo' you pet." He leaves the bed meandering through her wardrobe taking out a bag with Oreo in his armpit.

"What're you doing?" She gasps with wide eyes looking back at Niall who's still standing at the doorframe. God. It's so embarrassing he had to watch all of that. Now, he'll never not stop teasing her about it.

"Packin' 'cos ye're stayin' with me. No protests." Like she was going to. She loves to stay at his house. His guest room's mattress is such a royalty to sleep at.

. . .

When he tucks her under the layers of blanket she decides it's still not warm enough and grabs at his wrist when he was about to leave, "Can we cuddle please?" His lips quirks up with happiness and he crawls to the empty side of bed still letting her hold onto him. Slipping beside her to canoodle her cosily against his front nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck with "mhmpm." sounds of exhaustion.

"Anytime." Her eyelids slip shutting from the comfort he brings along with him, "ye' okay now?" His lips leaves it's sparkle at her skin as he mumbles spooning her from behind and spreads his palm wide atop her belly protectively. She nods cuddling into his bicep kissing the inside of his elbow and slips into darkness just with the song of his breath.

"Good night Angel."

. . .

She wakes up to the ruckus going outside and gurgling stomach from hunger. Pinches the blanket around her head and waddles outside yawning her way. Harry making brekkie in the kitchen, a grinder running, and waffles sizzling as he himself is moving around like Remy the Rat in ratatouille. His muscles stretching out with each haste motion and it made her tummy stir. She's been trying not be horny but it proves to be the hardest task when he's always around being that charming and alluring.

"Pet!" He grins spinning with a VR camera in his hand that makes her giggle, "What you're doing?" She giggles trying to hike up the stool.

"Recording the days with our babies until it's labour." Immediately he's at her side helping her sit up putting the camera at the counter and Y/N waves at it adorably voice low and sleepy, "Hi babies it's me your mommy." It catches Harry off guard. His heart shaped mouth baubles into awed expression as he blinks the shock away from his vision looking down at her.

"What happened?" She asks him in concern but he shakes his head pecking her hair and handing her the camera to go back to prepare brekkie — moreso to recover from the happy surprise of her acceptance or he might scream into these four walls.

He's got a heart of gold. Pure from the selfish intentions and full of love. He thinks he's an utter dimwit for neglecting his feelings for his own fucking bestfriend and finding love into places that were never meant for him. Now, he can't think of someone else as the mother of his children except her.

He smiles wet-ly to himself. Waterline stinging from the sweet epiphany that they're really gonna be parents. Together. That she's his person. Who never left his side. Fulfilled his dream of becoming of a dad when his own girlfriend backed out cowardly. What did he do to get her written in his fate?

"Would we get to eat in this hour of day Chef?" She quips elbow perched on the counter and chin resting in her palm. We. It makes his insides melt into squish of adoration and love for her, "Sorry! I know ye're hungry." He pouts apologetically putting the plates and a glass of smoothie infront of her tucking a napkin into her crew neck.

"I don't need that, pet!!" She laughs squeezing his thigh to refrain from falling -- for the fact she's the most clumsy person Harry knows, "look cute 's just all." He giggles back pulling his bottom lip that she has done a great job of flustering him this early in the morning — gonna be like that the whole darn day with the her words swimming in his mind hi babies it's me your mommy ——

"Hmm. It's so yummy!" She gives him a thumbs up leaning down to sponge a kiss to his cheek and his dimple milks against her lips from the shyness. He scrunches his nose as a cover up from blushieness else he might burst into lil confetti, "yeah?" His irirses twinkles impishly as he gave her an eskimo kiss.

They're so domestically in love. It's cute. Does thingies without knowing they've rocketed past the intense levels of intimacy.

When she whines at the end refusing to drink the green smoothie it's where he went all stern and daddy-ish with her. Pulling her into his lap, holding her wrists with his nimble finger and placing the rim of the glass at her lips encouraging her to drink, "I might puke." She tells him in a warning.

"Okay after drinking this." He declares not caring if she wrenches at him quiping with a pinch of brows petting her back.

"You're sucha meanie bro!" Bestfriend shit. More like lovers shit.

. . .

Blank staring is useless as fuck and mind tiring even if it's done sitting in the comfiest corner of sofa to get a watch of some piece of furniture, toys and clothes that litreally just belongs to little humans that are resting in her womb. There's this nice lady that Harry gave away all of this things to because she's having her third child and couldn't be able to afford this stuff for her baby, at the moment she's here to shift it.

"You don't have to --- I don't care. It's just some stuff you guys bought together." She had told him before he sat on the decision and once he makes up his mind nobody can make him act otherwise.

"Nope. Bought things fo' me babies by the choice of a person who wasn't even their mother in the first place, never deserved to be —-- would never be. We'll do everything from scratch . . ." His words held venom and hatred for her unlike the usual sadness and betrayal they carried weeks ago as he wrapped his forearm around her collarbones flushing her closer to his chest swaying in the living lounge, ". . . remember the plushies nan Matlinda gave ye' on ya eighteenth? Thinking it was yer thirteenth birthday? Found them from under me bed last night. Will throw 'em in the laundry and the descion will be on yours if ye' want them fo' yourself or your babies." She nods giggling and he joins her.

"'Course that'd be s' cute. My kids playin' with plushies that were once mine!" She clapped her hands atop her chest in sheer excitement.

At the moment, he flops onto sofa beside her with a dramatic huff after bidding the lady a warm good bye. Squeezing Y/N ankles as she's laying on her side. A pillow under her thigh for the ease purpose head on the other cushion, "Watching's the hardest work innit toots?" He grins impishly and she bobs her head with hooded eyes.

Rolling her shoulder to pop some joints to show her tiredness she's good at acting made him scoot closer to her immediately, "Actually yes — " Gets cut off with Harry getting really caring about her in instant.

"Lemme give ya good rub." His calloused palms starts it gentle pressure from the heels of her feet tricking up her calves and she hums sweetly with her face smushed into cushion. He does it for a minute, thumbing at her soles and popping her toes making her giggle lazily.

Her breaths turns warmer against the fabric when he glides his touch up her soft thighs running a trembling shiver into her blood and the coaxation from the daily tiredness plus the effect of him on her almost made her whine. Their breaths hitches at the same time his pinky brushes at the curve of her bossom peeking from underneath her pyjama shorts.

It makes her clench her thighs from the burn coiling in her tummy and it's embarrassing because he's doing nothing but giving her a rub. When the second time the pads of his supple fingers paints imaginaries at her skin she wiggles her cute ass and moans with an alluring stretch of throat when Harry slapped her arse playfully.

"'S good?" He rasps palming balmily her bossom ass hands gliding dangerously low to where she's pulsating with desire, "don't tease . ." She gives out a kitten-ish whine griping the corner of cushion to exhert the tension in her muscles. With a single glance to her deshilved state he slides his hand between her fleshy thighs pressing his lanky fingers against the wet splotch of her arousal from the only approximty of him.

"Jeez pet. ye'r absolute soakin'." He whispers circling her clit in tight circles from over her pyjamas and she ruts her hips in his hand for more. He hovers his fingers round the hem of her shorts testing the waters and if she really wants it ---- although she proves it with a groan indicating him to get rid of the material.

"Such a pretty bum 's a shame I got to touch it now." He traces the imprint of his redness on her skin making her hiss into her elbow and he pulls her over his lap; slowly feathering his touch between her pink slick folds down to her hole making her clinch around his digits trying to swallow them.

"S' tight babe. How long someone's been between these beautiful legs?" His words don't carry any taunt. It's just a genuine question. She gulps trying to escape the haze — couldn't when he's gliding his fingers non-stop in her wetness with dirty noises, "dunno . . don't remember!" She squeaks when he slides them inside her with ease from slickness caging a grunty moan that's threatening to slip from his lungs.

"It's been that long then . . ." He drawls out and Y/N's shook that she hasn't heard him in that tone ever before or maybe she's too floaty. This Harry intimidates her in a sweet way, makes her want to be blanketed under his warm weight always, to depend on him and be with him always. Makes her want to kiss him till the colours fade out and blossom back again with the witnesses of their love.

"Harry . ." She moans fogy-ly when he adds two more letting her stickiness drip down his thighs, "Yes baby." He giggles bashfully sneaking his arm under her shoulders to kiss her cheek.

"Gonna cum." She cries out softly nipping at his skin and he pushes his fingers deep till knuckles in her cunt pounding inside her with a pleasuring pressure, "Didn't stop ya." His little bubble kisses trails to the crook of her neck biting down to glitter hues of his affection for her.

"Oh my!" Her eyes popshut and thighs smack crampies his hand cumming on his fingers. Making a mess down his wrists, his trousers and the hem of his shirt. She purrs cheeks smashed near his thick thigh into velvet when he rubs her back to soothe her heated body down as that of a kitten, "Ye purrs are puttin' oreo to shame, moppet." He pushes her up. Straddling her each leg around his torso letting her melt onto him.

"S' warm." He mumbles against her throat pecking where the paths of her veins leads him to. Grabs her chin and nuzzles his nose to the underbelly of her jaw saturating her closer to his chest. She hiccups a breath when his swelling bulge nudges her already sensitive pussy making her wet again; she blames her hormones.

"Can you fuck me, please?" She gives him pleading eyes swiveling her hips back and forth against his thick length, "Don't 've to ask pretty girl." He kisses her mouth. It's not like their first kiss. Their first held innocence and sccachirness. This one's rather filthy, full of sucking, bites and spit. He splits his thumb in her hair cupping her cheeks kissing her passionately and winding his arm around her waist to caress her belly.

When she throws her shirt away he puffs out unbelievably taking in her to memorize each velvteen of her skin, "Fuck you're so beautiful moppet." It splashes blush at her features and his eyes litreally twinkles at the sight of her being like this. When his eyes halt at the swell of her titts he exhales through his nostrils a grin worming up at the little rainbow patterned bra she's wearing.

"Cutie." He kisses her again. It's like he can never stop kissing her ever. Her plump candy lips make it impossible. She skids his trousers down wrapping her hand around his girth squeezing him to quench out a throaty grunt from him. Stroking his cock with his pre-come and arches her back when his weepy head brushes against her cunt.

He helps her to take his cock being ever so carefull with her since she's pregnant but Y/N wants otherwise. She's insatiable. Could bite him whole at the time.

"Use me baby ---- make yourself cum with my cock. Wanted it yeah? C'mon now fuck me pretty girl. Take it all in. Yeah . . . Jus' like that." He grits stretching her to max and brings her neck to snuggle in to his chest when she was about to fall back because of her limbs giving out due to the ecastasy. She spurts out a giggle putting her hands between them to recoup herself and moves with his assistance on her ass.

"It's hard." She whines walls fluttering around his dick making him moan, "what me prick?" He smirks batting his eyelashes to get through the haze.

"Such a rotten joke." She rolls her eyes riding him with faster pace now and it's turning them all sweaty and hot, "mhmp. good girl takin' me cock s' well." His hands wanders above her tummy fondling with her nipples and takes it in his mouth while giving the same attention to other one with his thumb pulling it and tweaking it gently not to harm her, "don't like my jokes but you love my prick --- want to make ye' feel amazin' with it."

His balls thwacking against her bum and she leverages herself with his shoulders crying out in his ear when he hit a spot inside her she could never with her own fingers — she narrows her knees for more closeness and he tucks loose errands of her hair away kissing her temple with closed eyes.

"Tired?" His wet lips teases her earlobe and when she nods he gropes her ass thrusting up inside her, "It feels more good when daddy does it . . doesn't it?" He pounds roughly with a sharp angle of his pelvis and keeps on fucking her till she's crying his name.

She's a puddling. His words only made her float into her own head space where it's golden streaks in the amidst of violet clouds.

His own groans getting hoarse when she pulses around his cock milking and pushing his head fat out it makes him choke onto his spit, "cum for me --- inside me want it s' bad." She whispers woving fingers with his's and pressing it into sofa still grinding down at him whole body jolting from the sensitivity.

He does cum inside her. Filling her to brim with his seed it oozes out making soppy sounds when he pumps it back with lazy strokes to extinguish the last sparkle of fire that was crackling in their insides.

Remains like that. Tangled and dishelved. Listening to eachother's silence. He didn't even got a chance to pull out of her when his phone startled them beside her making her cramp hard around him and his head falls on the headboard with a grunt.

"Fuck." He squints back and pretends to eat the apple of her cheeks with roar like noises tickling her side making her stomach squeeze with laughs when his phone rings for another time and she ushers him to pick it.

His expressions remains stoic. Lips thinned into a hardline as he listens to the person on the other side. She's familiar with it. The feminine seductive voice she can never unhear --- it pangs her heart with an unbearable amount of pain and clogs her windpipes.

Dunno from where she found the need to ask this she did with a second thought from the anxiousness whirling in her mind the second he ends the call, "Are you gonna leave me now?" Tears of hurt without her knowing are already spilling down the valley of her chest.

Harry stares her. But, she could see nothing in them due to blurness from the pulversive of a single call.

[just-horrible-things]

Credit to co-author @whump-sprite

Behold, plot stuff! Now with lil illustration here

AU: Chewtoy - Asking For Help [Prev | Next]

There are about five official associations and support groups for American refugees in Montreal, that Ariadne can find at least. She finds out when and where each of them meet, introduces herself, and starts ingratiating herself with the organizers so that she can ask for a chance to speak, to try and sell them her sob story.

It doesn’t get any easier. She’s rehearsed the speech enough times that the words come easily. But every time she stands in front of a circle of strangers, searching their numbed eyes for sympathy, she feels like she is cutting herself open all over again and inviting them to stare at the deep wound that is her heart.

She takes off her jacket, feeling like she’s stripping naked, to show each little crowd the stripes Riven left all over her arms. The scars are still fading month on month and maybe one day they won’t be so glaringly obvious, but for now they still stand out dark and reddish against skin that’s pale fawn from never seeing the sun.

It’s a cheap pity ploy, showing them off, but she needs every edge she can get.

“I was held prisoner in the USA,” she tells them, “in a federal black site. I was tortured there. I count myself extremely lucky to be here today. Alive. Free."

Searching the faces of her audience she always has to wonder whether any of them are informants. Whether her words will make it back to intelligence officers in a site like Seventeen. Back to Riven. She's pretty sure she's a lower priority target than Connor was, but it pays to be careful. She doesn't tell them her name, or his. She calls him her partner, and if they take it to mean romantic, that doesn't matter to her. 

"He risked life and limb to save me," she says. "He left everything behind. He got me to the border when I was too broken, too fucked up in the head to have the first idea how to help myself. And he got me across it.

"We thought we were safe here. The Canadian officials gave us a place near Toronto. He got a job. I started to heal. I thought I could start learning to, to be a person again. 

"Five weeks ago," her voice always breaks at this point, "I got a message from his phone. He'd hit SOS. I got… a couple of blurry photos of the men that grabbed him, the van they were driving, and, a-and I got this."

She has the audio file ready. All she has to do is unlock her phone – trembling fingers struggling to swipe – and press play. 

The whole room listens in grave silence to a thirty second clip of Connor’s voice mixed with the thuds and grunts of the struggle. Ariadne has listened to it hundreds of times but she still can’t make out all of the words, all of the information he tries to share – before they do something to him, maybe hit him with a taser, and the rest is meaningless noise.

She lets the silence stretch after the sound bite ends. Imagining the strangers in front of her imagining the way she felt the first time she heard it.

“They left his phone on the sidewalk,” she says. “I went straight to his location – stupid. I got there before the police. I panicked, it was stupid. If they’d just waited there they’d have caught me too.” It’s hard not to shudder at the thought. 

“We thought we’d be safe here, but the US government sent a team to grab him off the street and they got away with it. The police say they can’t help me. They’ll have taken him back across the border and there’s nothing they can do.

“I’m telling you this because I think you all deserve to know. But also because I’m…” swallow, “... hoping someone here can help me. Anyone. 

“I’m going back in. All the officials have told me not to. But I have to. I can’t stand by and do nothing, not after everything he did for me. I owe him the world. 

“So if any of you can help me, this is a plea. If you know anyone in the States with connections, or who might consider sheltering me while I search. If you know anything about tracking a prisoner down. Anyone who can help me across the border. 

“Anything at all would help. I have nowhere else to turn.

“Thank you for your time.”

Afterwards there are always plenty of people who want to talk to her. Most of them have nothing to offer but condolences, nothing but empty words meant to soothe their own consciences, to let them feel like they didn’t just stand by and watch. She tolerates it because there are grains of hope amongst the chaff.

Someone has family that might take Ariadne in if she’s in the right city. Someone else knows a stretch of border that’s been good for crossing in recent months. Someone knows a smuggler. Someone knows an underground newspaper who won’t be able to help Ariadne but might know someone who can.

She collects addresses and phone numbers, labeling them with false names, making up a code to help herself remember which is which without making her phone a goldmine for the feds if she gets caught.

The woman who makes all the difference is called Macey. 

She’s overweight and dressed like a school teacher and wears her hair in curls, but there’s a hardness in the set of her jaw as she guides Ariadne by the arm into a side room. Ariadne doesn’t ask if she’s magic, but most of the refugees are. Her pulse flutters in her neck. She reclaims her arm from the woman’s grip as soon as they stop moving.

“If you think you’re going to break into a federal prison and escape with your friend,” Macey says bluntly, “you’re not thinking straight.” “I know,” says Ariadne. “You can’t just climb the fence. And if he’s even still alive, he won’t be in any condition to walk out, let alone run.” “I know,” Ariadne snaps. “Save your breath, you’re not going to talk me out of anything.” “I’m just not sure you understand --” “I understand!” Ariadne cuts her off. “I’ve been inside those fucking places, I’ve seen the security, I know what happens if I fail and I have to do it anyway. He got me out. I have to try and do the same, no matter what.” Macey nods. “That’s what I wanted to ask you about, actually.” “What?” Ariadne’s skin crawls with sudden suspicion. “How did he manage it?” There is nothing accusatory in her tone but Ariadne’s heart still locks up in her chest. 

It’s not like she hasn’t thought about this. It’s a perfectly natural question, she knew people were gonna ask. She’s thought about how to decide what to say about their past, how to judge whether sharing will be good or bad for her odds of getting help… 

But her mouth is dry and her head is empty and she can’t remember any of the thoughts she had.

“I only know of one group who can pull that off,” Macey continues. She lowers her voice a little even though they’re alone. “And that’s the Resistance.” Startled, Ariadne exhales a brief, thready laugh. “We’re not Resistance, I’m afraid,” she shakes her head. “If you were, I imagine you’d be going back to them for help.” “Yeah,” she agrees glumly, “I imagine I would.”

Macey purses her lips and considers. Ariadne turns and starts to pace a little, then catches herself and sits on the edge of a table instead.

“They might help you anyway,” the probably-witch says. Another cynical chuckle slips out. Yeah, right, Ariadne wants to say. But she holds her tongue. “They aren’t just a myth, you know.”. “I know,” Ariadne agrees. “I just… even if I had any way of getting in contact, I don’t see why the hell they’d help me.” “They helped me,” Macey shrugs. “I didn’t have anything to give them in return. But they got me across the border.” “Sneaking someone out of the country is a bit different to breaking them out of a secret prison,” Ariadne points out. “But your friend pulled it off. That’s no mean feat. The Resistance would be interested in helping someone who can manage that. I’m sure of it.”

Ariadne braces her hands against the table and locks her elbows straight in a futile attempt to stop her arms from shaking. The air judders and catches in her throat as she tries to take a deep breath. 

“It’s… not repeatable,” she confesses. Another unsteady attempt at breathing deep. “He…” and then the words come out too fast, “he got me out because he worked there, at the black site. He was one of them, that’s how he did it. And, a-and that’s why the Resistance won’t help us.”

She watches Macey fiercely for the revulsion, the judgement, the condemnation she’s sure will follow. But the cardiganned woman just nods slowly, processing her words. 

“He must care about you a great deal,” she says eventually.

It’s worse, somehow. The gentle words hit like a kick in the gut.

“Yeah,” Ariadne manages, abruptly choked up. “He – he really does.”

In the silence that follows, she swallows and swallows until the lump in her throat is gone.

“I still think they might help you,” the witch says eventually. “If you met with them.” Ariadne looks up, doubtful. “I’ll try anything,” she admits.

[Next]

[thelastspeecher]

Here Comes the Son

Hehehe a pun.

Anyways I stayed up late last night bc I had an anxiety attack and wound up writing during that time so here have some more Marriage of Convenience AU.

—————————————————————————————— 

              “Want Mama,” Iris whined loudly at Stan.  “Want see her.”  Stan sighed heavily.

              “You and me both, kid,” he mumbled.  Angie had gone into labor last night, resulting in Ford rushing her to the hospital and leaving Stan alone with Orion and Iris. That morning, Ford had called to let Stan know Angie was ready for visitors.  But when they arrived, Angie had already fallen back asleep.  Now, Stan was stuck in the waiting area outside Angie’s hospital room, supervising his niece and nephew.

              “Uncy Stan,” Orion whimpered, holding his arms out. Stan lifted his nephew onto his lap.

              “Getting bored?” he asked.

              “Yeah.”

              “Me, too.”  Stan leaned his head back to stare up at the ceiling.  “But your dad doesn’t want to wake up your ma.  I guess she punched him the last time he did that.”

              “Punch?”

              “Yeah, punch.  I’ll teach you how to throw a good one when you’re older.”

              “Mmkay.”

              “What are ya doin’?”  Stan looked over.  A strange man stood there, his hands on his hips.  “Why aren’t ya in the room with yer wife?”

              “Uh, ‘cause I don’t have a wife?” Stan said. Something about the man looked familiar, but Stan couldn’t quite place him.  The man scowled.

              “Don’t have a-”  His eyes widened.  “Wait. Yer not Stanford.”

              “Nope.”

              “But his children are with ya.”

              “It’s called babysitting, hayseed.  Ever heard of it?”

              “Hayseed?!” the man squeaked.  The door to Angie’s room opened.  Ford stepped into the hall.  “Stanford, who is this hooligan ya have babysittin’ yer children?” the man demanded.

              “That hooligan would happen to be my twin brother, Stanley.  We recently reconnected, and he’s been serving as our live-in nanny since.” Ford frowned.  “Did Angie not tell you?”

              “She mentioned that ya got a live-in nanny, but not that he was yer twin brother.”  The man looked back at Stan.  “I s’ppose that I should introduce m’self, then.”  He held out a hand.  Stan shook it.  “The name’s Lute McGucket.  I’m one of Angie’s older brothers.”

              “So that’s why you’ve got that nose,” Stan said idly.  Ford’s eyes lit up.

              “Lute and Angie aren’t the only ones with that nose!” he gushed.  Stan stood up.

              “Your new kid’s got it, too?”

              “Yes, he does!”

              “He!” Lute gasped.  “I got m’self a new nephew?”  Ford nodded eagerly.

              “Yes, the both of you do.  Please, come inside, Angie’s finally awake and able to handle visitors.”

              “Dada!”  Iris toddled over to Ford.  Ford knelt to pick her up.  “We go see Mama?”

              “Yes, my dear, we are going to see your mother now.” Ford poked Iris’s nose, eliciting a giggle from her.  “And your new baby brother!”  Stan, still holding Orion, and Lute followed Ford into the hospital room.  The moment Stan’s eyes landed on Angie, he felt his heart skip a beat.

              No, Stan, no.  You are not getting a crush on your sister-in-law!  Even if she and Ford don’t love each other romantically. But he couldn’t deny the feelings that had begun to emerge while Angie was pregnant.  The two of them had spent a lot of time together and grown very close. Angie was beautiful, intelligent, funny, and even enjoyed Stan’s sense of humor.  She’s the whole package.

              And in that moment, Angie sat up in her hospital bed, looking almost ethereal.  She glowed with happiness, a faint smile playing around her lips.  Her golden hair shone in the light from the window. Nestled in her arms was a small bundle. From a distance, Stan couldn’t make out much of his new nephew’s appearance.  All he could see was a long nose inherited from Angie and full head of thick, golden curls.

              “Mama!” Orion squealed happily.  Angie looked up from her newborn son.  She beamed broadly.

              “Hello, my babies.  Are ya excited to meet yer lil brother?” she gushed.  Orion wiggled excitedly in Stan’s arms.

              “Geez, kid, calm down.  Or I’m gonna drop you,” Stan teased.  Lute gave him a dirty look.  Stan brought Orion over to Angie’s bed and carefully set him down.  Orion peered closely at his little brother. Stan couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

              Dammit, Ford and Angie are good at having cute kids.  Stan’s new nephew had rich, brown eyes and a round face in addition to the nose and hair Stan had noticed earlier.  The baby stared at Stan with intense curiosity.

              “He has twelve fingers and twelve toes,” Ford crowed proudly.  He had come to the other side of Angie’s bed and placed Iris down as well.  Iris crawled over to her new brother, brown eyes wide.  Stan grinned at Ford, who had come a long way from hiding his hands constantly in their childhood.  Angie had explained to Stan her theory.  Ford’s children were polydactyls like him, so thinking poorly of his own polydactyly would be like thinking poorly of his children.

              Makes sense to me.  Stan’s gaze drifted back to Angie, who was happily watching Orion and Iris coo over their new brother.  She’s a damn smart woman.

              “So, what’s the na-” he started.  The door slammed open.  A man ran into the room.  He had Angie and Lute’s nose, as well as Angie’s caramel-colored hair.

              “Sorry, Lute came in while I parked the truck. And parkin’ took forever!” the man said. Angie looked up with a smile.

              “Don’t worry, Harper, ya haven’t missed a bit. I ain’t even told folks this lil feller’s name yet,” she said soothingly.  The man – Harper – came over to stand by Lute.  Ford nodded at Harper.

              “Harper.”

              “Stanford,” Harper said.  His eyes landed on Stan.  “And this would be…?”

              “My twin brother and live-in nanny,” Ford explained.  Stan held out a hand.  Harper shook it.  “Stanley, this is one of Angie’s other older brothers, Harper.”

              “I figured that out,” Stan drawled, breaking off the handshake.  Harper’s eyes glinted with interest.

              “Huh.  Odd that ya never mentioned yer twin before, Stanford, and suddenly he’s not just in yer life but in charge of yer children.”

              “Harper…” Ford said wearily.

              Wow, Angie’s brothers really like to poke Ford, don’t they?  I wonder if they’ve picked up on the marriage being for convenience instead of love.

              “All right, I’ll drop it.  Now ain’t the time.”  Harper beamed down at the baby in Angie’s arms.  “Tell me ‘bout this precious bean.”

              “Yes,” Angie said happily.  She looked at Ford.  “Would you care to do the honors?  After all, you were the one who decided the name.”  There was a hint of a bite to Angie’s tone.

              Huh.  Maybe she doesn’t like her kid’s name?

              “Of course.”  Ford cleared his throat.  “Everyone, I would like you to meet Apollo Hercules Pines.”

              Okay.  I get why she doesn’t like it.

              “It’s nice,” Lute said, obviously lying through his teeth.  Harper, however, nodded thoughtfully.

              “I think it’s wonderful,” he said.  “Strong and unique.”  Lute rolled his eyes and muttered what sounded like “of course you do” under his breath.

              “When I saw his golden hair, I immediately knew we had to name him after the sun.  And his middle name was actually chosen by Stan from a list of options that Angie and I settled on.”

              “I was sure the baby would be a girl,” Angie mumbled quietly.  Ford frowned.

              “Angie, is something wrong?”

              “Oh, no, just-”  Angie messed with Apollo’s blankets.  “I weren’t plannin’ on namin’ my child Apollo Hercules.”

              “I asked you what you thought.  You agreed to it.”

              “I wasn’t anywhere near lucid, with all those drugs they gave me durin’ the labor,” Angie argued.  “And I was exhausted, too!  You know how I get when I’m tired.  I can’t think straight.”  Stan cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.

              “Look, it might be a weird name, but it’s definitely gonna set the kid apart,” he said.  Harper nodded.

              “I agree.  And honestly, Apollo ain’t close to the strangest name we’ve got in our fam’ly. I mean, Angie, yer full name is much stranger.”

              “Even my name ain’t as bad as Fiddleford’s,” Angie retorted playfully.  Stan frowned. “Another older brother of mine.”

              “Yep, it’s a bit of a McGucket fam’ly tradition to have an odd name,” Lute said.  He ruffled Apollo’s thick curls.  “Since this lil feller’s got the fam’ly nose, makes sense he would have that other fam’ly trait.”

              Angie and her brothers continued to chat cheerfully, discussing family gossip and cooing over the three children.  Once again, Stan found himself watching his sister-in-law.  She laughed. The sound awakened butterflies in Stan’s stomach.  A hand was placed on Stan’s shoulder, startling him.  He looked over.  It was Ford.

              “Stanley, thank you,” Ford said quietly.  Stan raised an eyebrow.

              “For what?”

              “For stepping in.  If you hadn’t intervened, Angie and I would have had a full-blown argument over Apollo’s name.  In front of her brothers and the children, no less.”  Ford took a steadying breath.  “I can’t help but be enormously grateful that you’ve helped us so much. Not just in supervising the children, but in remedying some of the problems Angie and I had.”

              “Hey, I’m doing what I was put on Earth to do,” Stan said firmly.  “Help you out.”  A smile appeared on Ford’s face, but disappeared just as quickly.

              “But can that make you happy?”

              “Geez, Debbie Downer, relax.”  Stan elbowed his twin.  “Your son was just born.  On Halloween! Celebrate!”

              “You didn’t answer the question.”

              “I’m fine, Ford.  Really.”  Stan shrugged Ford’s hand off his shoulder and leaned over Angie’s hospital bed, smiling down at her and Apollo.  He didn’t notice the contemplative look that came over Ford as he watched Stan fawn over his sister-in-law and new nephew.

[dancethroughthethunder]

A Little Gryffindor Courage

Word Count: A little under 4.6k

Pairing: Young!Remus Lupin x Ravenclaw!Reader

Request: “Hi! Can you please do a young Remus Lupin x Ravenclaw! reader where she smells amortentia for slughorns class and she smells chocolate and panics bc woah, Remus likes chocolate! And he smells her scent (whatever you decide) in his own and gets the marauders go help set them both up? Tysm!!”

Authors Note: Am I using the “Marlene, Dorcas, Lily and Reader as girl group parallel to the Marauders just because four people get sat at a table in my brain”? You bet I am. Also, fem!reader as the request specified pronouns! This is my first request and I’m super excited to write it. I made the reader smell like lilacs because that’s what I smell like and it’s the first scent that came to mind lol. Reader smells more than just chocolate in the Amortentia bc I firmly believe it’s about more than romantic love. So I’ll say it now, only the third and final smell for Reader is meant to be romantic. I’m a sucker for an amortentia fic and a young!Remus so this is the perfect first request- it’s like you picked my brain to come up with it. I hope you like it! Xoxo (tagging @ragnarachael bc I promised her I would)

Summary: Sixth year students Remus Lupin and Y/N L/N have been good friends and potions partners for a while. One day, Professor Slughorn decides to switch up the pairs and you find yourself partnered with your dear friend Lily Evans while you study and make Amortentia. What happens when you find yourself smelling chocolate? Some teasing from Lily, and a push in the right direction from your friends help you and Remus figure out that there might be more than just friendly feelings between the two of you. 

Warnings: If you count some terrible puns as a warning, then there’s that.

“Hey pretty lady, can I walk you to your class?” 

“Oh my, a suitor of my own. I can’t wait to tell mother.” Your best friend Lily Evans giggled as she turned around to see you standing behind her, hand extended to her.

“Oi L/N, you make a better James than James.” Sirius yelled out from down the table as you watched Peter duck so James could have the perfect line or sight to toss a piece of cereal at his best friend. 

“Good morning boys.” You waved, laughing as Lily took your hand and began to walk with you away from the Gryffindor table and out of the Great Hall to go to your first lesson, Potions. 

You loved having Potions first thing in the day, and certainly not because of your professor. Sure Slughorn meant well but there was only so much fawning he could do over you and your best friends before you were practically begging for Professor McGonagall’s tough no nonsense attitude. No, you liked Potions because it meant you got to start your day with your best friends, as Ravenclaw and Gryffindor shared the class together. 

The second you left the Great Hall, you were joined by Dorcas Meadowes and Marlene McKinnon, the other half of your friend group. You supposed people thought it was strange that your closest friends were in a different house, but hey houses are about the qualities you espouse and hold dear, not a binding group of exclusive friends that you can’t stray beyond. The four of you made your way down to the dungeons while the three Gryffindors caught you up on the nighttime shenanigans the Marauders had been up to since you saw them last. 

Walking into the classroom, you saw a note on the front board telling you that Professor Slughorn would be late and to divide into the pairs up on the board. Huh, that’s weird, you thought, Slughorn usually keeps the same partners. Well, I hope my new one is as good as my current one. You scanned the board to find your name and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that luckily you were paired with Lily. Okay, so maybe there were some benefits to being the teacher’s favorites. 

“Aww poor Y/N/N, she won’t get to stare at her boy all class.” Marlene teased as her and Dorcas took their seats on the opposite sides of the table from you and Lily. Huh, me and Lil and Dorcas and Marls? Slughorn must be in a really good mood.

“Oh hush, Remus and I are friends okay, nothing more. You’re just projecting your love for Sirius onto me, Marlene McKinnon.” Marlene shrugged, smirking, but dropped the subject as the boys in question walked into the room. 

“Sluggy, Lily, ladies, other members of the class.” James Potter came strolling into the classroom first, with a smirking Sirius Black, an amused looking Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin, lovingly rolling his eyes at his friend. James stopped to acknowledge Lily, then the rest of your table before turning to realize that your professor was nowhere to be seen. 

“We’re supposed to be getting into the pairs listed on the board, and starting to brew Amortentia. But then again, those of us who can read already know that, Potter.” If it was anybody else you were sure the harsh comment would be enough for a jinx thrown behind their backs later, but with Lily and James it was just par for the course. 

You went to the storage cupboard to get the ingredients you needed, while Lily was setting up your cauldron with the proper equipment you would need to make the potion. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” You heard the familiar voice of your typical potions partner and turned around to find Remus Lupin standing behind you, waiting to grab his own ingredients. 

“Morning, Remus. I have to say, as glad as I am that it’s Lil, I’m going to miss my favorite potions partner”. You teasingly bumped his hip with your own as you said this, your arms full of potions ingredients. 

“Don’t let Lily hear you say that I’m your favorite, not her, she’ll kick both of our arses.”

“Oh Remus, who said I was talking about you?” You giggled as you ducked under his arm to head back to your table.

“I’m wounded, truly.” Remus smirked at you as you tried to hide the blush that was undoubtedly creeping up your face. 

“Somehow I think you’ll survive, Rem.” You quickly walked away before Marlene or the girls could notice the interaction and tease you even further about it. 

You walked back over to your table, trying not to look back at the tall boy that had captured your attention. As much as you liked Remus, you weren’t going to say anything. Sometimes you thought he was flirting with you, but you were sure that you were reading into it. Besides, with best friends like James, Sirius and Peter, there was no way he could possibly like you without the three of them turning it into a spectacle a la Lily and James. 

Sometime later, Professor Slughorn had appeared, apologizing for his absence and mumbling something about a group of first and second years that had needed a big enough disciplinary meeting that included him as their Head of House, and the Headmaster. You barely paused to register what he was saying as you continued focusing your attention on brewing your, fairly complicated potion. Soon enough, the liquid in your cauldron was taking on a mother-of-pearl shine as steam came piling out of it. You wiped your hand over the back of your forehead, to hopefully reduce the bit of sweat that was appearing as everyone’s potions were giving off hot steam.

“Hey, Marlene?” 

“Yes, Dorcas?”

“I wonder what exactly a tall, sandy haired Gryffindor prefect smells like?” You looked up from your potion and groaned as your two best friends on the other side of the table exchanged wicked grins, that you knew meant trouble.

“Well you know Dor, I bet there’s one way to find out.” 

“Just ask Y/N/N what her Amortentia smells like.” Dorcas and Marlene finished together as Lily laughed and you groaned. 

Unbeknownst to you, there was a similar discussion occurring over at the Marauders table.

“Hey James, how many galleons do you want to put on a bet that whatever Y/N smells like, our Moony here smells in his potion?”

“It’s lilacs!” Peter excitedly claimed.

“What?” His three best friends turned, faces screwed up in confusion, to stare at him. 

“What Y/N smells like? She smells like lilacs.” Peter smiled as he offered this information.

“Now how in Merlin’s name do you know that Pete?” Sirius turned to look from Peter to you, back to Peter with one eyebrow raised.

“That Hogsmeade weekend when she was sick and couldn’t go, she asked me to pick up some more of her soap for her, don’t you remember?”

“No Pete literally nobody remembers that, and loverboy, do you feel like you’ve got competition now?”

“Don’t be a hippogriff’s left nut James, you two probably just had detention that day. And regardless, anyone could tell you that she smells like lilacs.”

“Again, no, nobody just knows that off the top of their head. Unless they’re Peter or they’re in love.”

Before either you or Remus could give some sort of (honestly well deserved) snarky remark to your respective friend groups, Professor Slughorn called the class to attention and began to wax poetic about Amortentia.

“Ahh Amortentia. The strongest love potion in the world, but I’m sure you all know that from the chapter. It smells different to each person, depending on that which attracts them. Some people smell purely based on the romantic love in their life, but for many of us, Amortentia’s smell reminds us of love both familial and romantic, platonic and intimate. They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, maybe love is in the nose of the potion maker.” Slughorn paused here to chuckle, with one hand on his stomach and the other rested on his desk, clearly incredibly amused by himself. 

As badly as you wanted to keep a straight face and not encourage the man from any further attempts at humor, you couldn’t stop the laugh escaping from your mouth. Before you had a chance to cover your mouth with your hand, Remus turned around and the two of you shared eye contact and a smile that Lily (who was of course, observing) would swear had nothing to do with the joke you were both unsuccessfully trying not to laugh at. That was one thing you liked about having Remus as a potions partner, you had similar senses of humor and he wasn’t afraid to laugh at a professor’s bad jokes with you. Unfortunately, Professor Slughorn caught the eye contact between you two and decided that you were the perfect person to pick on as the next, and final, part of the lesson.

“Now, class, as we can see Miss Evans and Miss L/N’s potion is absolutely marvellous, see the mother of pearl sheen? The spirals of steam? I can see that not all of you had as much luck, so after we have Miss L/N demonstrate for us how to properly smell the potion and describe for us what she smells, I want you all to come over here and smell their potion. Then you may pack up for the day. Remember, I want a foot of parchment on Amortentia and you will not receive complete marks unless I see you smell this potion and you make mention of your specific type of scent in your essay. Have a good day, I’ll be at my desk to observe if you have any questions. But first, Miss L/N?”

You were hoping he’d forget. But, he didn’t. What a man, forgets when you need him to remember and remembers when you need him to forget. Oh well, at least he means well. You tucked your hair behind your ears so as to not get any of it in the potion and leaned forward to inhale just a little bit of the steam to be able to smell your potion. 

“Well, go on girl, tell us what you smell.”

As you breathed in, the first thing you noticed was the indescribable scent that you knew without hesitation, “It smells like my grandmother’s kitchen. If I could describe happiness and childhood in a scent it would be this.” You sighed contentedly as you continued describing the scent of your potion, “and something.. Comforting, clean, but I can’t totally tell. Oh, Lil can you move away for a moment?”

As Lily moved to the other side of the table, you realize that you can still smell what is just so fundamentally Lily. “Well that makes sense, the next scent is my best friend. It’s you, Lil.” You smiled at her as you tried to hone in on the third and final discernible scent in your potion. 

“Anything else Miss L/N?” You sensed that Slughorn could tell you weren’t quite done with your potion.

“It’s… hmm I mean it’s sweet but not like a pudding. I think it’s, yes it’s chocolate.” You were so focused on your potion that you didn’t see the way that Remus froze in his chair, eyes on you while Sirius was (not subtly at all) tapping Remus on the knee under the table, as if to say “Hey Remus that’s you in case you didn’t know, that friend of ours that you’ve fancied for years smelled you and you’re chocolate”. You know, the way an excited puppy might hit you with its wagging tail. 

But you didn’t notice, you were too busy trying to think through who you associated with the smell of chocolate because smelling Remus? Certainly not, how fanciful and romantic- you didn’t have time to be a hopeless romantic. No, there had to be some other explanation than the boy who you knew always had chocolate for a friend in need and who threatened to die Sirius’ beloved hair if he stole his last bar of chocolate one more time. It couldn’t be Remus, who always let Lily raid his chocolate stash for you when he knew it was your time of the month, Remus for whom you made sure to return the favor (what? You were a Ravenclaw for Rowena’s sake, it wasn’t like you hadn’t put two and two together, I mean really it didn’t take a potions master to figure out why his friends called him Moony). Nope, there was another explanation and that was that. 

While you were typically to dispose of your own potion and clean up your workstation, Professor Slughorn allowed you and Lily to be the first to leave class and have someone else (likely him) clean up your area, that way everyone else could use your perfect potion to find their own smell. You and Lily grabbed your bags and books, told Marlene and Dorcas you’d meet them in the courtyard and headed out of the classroom. 

As you made your way to the courtyard, Remus was taking his time clearing his own cauldron, hoping that if he went slowly enough his friends would give up and go smell the Amortentia without him. He could have smelled his own except Peter accidentally bumped his arm while he was pouring one of his ingredients into his cauldron. While Peter apologized profusely, Remus didn’t mind; it was one of the most advanced potions they had attempted so far and it was likely that a mistake would be made somewhere along the way. Regardless, Remus wasn’t necessarily afraid of what he might smell, he was afraid of admitting it to his friends. 

“Cmon Moons, time to go find out what gives you a nose boner…. A noner”

“Sirius, do you hear the things that come out of your mouth?” Being best friends with James and Sirius, one might think that they would cease finding things surprising. They would be wrong.

“Nope, it’s a surprise to me as well, more fun that way. Let’s go!” Before Remus could protest or find something else to occupy his time and attention, Sirius had grabbed his one arm, James the other and Peter was standing behind him making sure that he had no choice but to move forward towards the cauldron. 

The three boys shoved Remus so hard he nearly went head first into the cauldron, a little too excited to see what the potion would reveal. When the tall blonde boy softened, and the corners of his mouth turned up instinctively at the first smell of the potion, the boys knew that look meant one thing and one thing alone: lilacs.

Remus would deny it (“Denial is a hell of a drug, my wolfy little friend”) but he had a Y/N face. James could put a bell around your neck and it still wouldn’t be as reliable as Remus’ face to notify others that you had entered a room. Then again, as he’d remind his friends, unless you’re carrying a mirror around everywhere, one can never really know what the nuances of their different facial expressions can look like. Regardless, the Y/N face never lies, and without having to ask, the Marauders knew that the potion had confirmed what everyone with a pair of eyes knew, that you and Remus both fancied each other deeply enough to impact the smell of your Amortentia. As Remus began to straighten up, the three boys exchanged looks and knew that they needed to do something to help the two of you figure out how to express your feelings before someone in your respective friend groups just put it in a Howler for the entire Great Hall to hear. 

As you went on with the rest of your day, completely unaware of what (or perhaps more accurately, who) Remus smelled in his Amortentia, your friends realized that the Marauders were up to something. After Potions, you didn’t have another class with Gryffindors for the rest of that particular day so until dinnertime (you liked to spend lunch with your fellow Ravenclaws) you wouldn’t have a really good chance to catch up with any of them. That left the Marauders free to scheme and your friends free to try and find out what their favorite trouble makers were up to. 

“Alright Pettigrew, tell us what’s going on.” Lily Evans walked up to Peter Pettigrew who, instead of using his break to go into the courtyard or even the library, was standing outside the very same potions classroom they were in that morning.

“What? Erm, nothing really… what’s… going on with you?” Peter looked around nervously wondering why now of all times, it was his turn to be the lookout. They should have known better than to come up with a plan regarding Y/N without bringing Marlene, Lily, and Dorcas in on it. 

“Come on Peter, you can’t think we’re that stupid. Now where are the other three? And what trouble are you getting into?”

“My sweet Lilyflower.” The three girls jumped as Sirius appeared behind them, having snuck up behind them silently.

“Ugh, Sirius. Come on, we know you’re up to something and I don’t have time for another one of Potter’s proposals.” Lily rolled her eyes, while Marlene and Dorcas laughed. 

“Now now Lilypad, you’re not the flower we’re concerned with today. We’re on more of a… lilac kick today.” Sirius smirked, feeling so clever as he said this.

“So it has to do with Y/N?” Marlene’s eyes lit up as she started to put the pieces together.

“What? Erm, what?” 

“Everyone knows she smells like lilacs, she’s always getting more lilac soap and perfume when we go into Hogsmeade.” Dorcas rolled her eyes as Sirius looked around, clearly not expecting that answer.

“Huh, Remus was right, everyone knows that.” Before Sirius could answer, the door behind Peter opened and James came out of the classroom. 

“Okay, we take it back Pete, maybe that is something everyone knows.” Peter smiled triumphantly as Sirius shrugged. “Anyways, follow us ladies.” The six students walked up towards the Gryffindor common room together, as the boys filled the girls in on their plan for dinner. 

Dinnertime arrived and you walked into the Great Hall, surprised to find that none of your friends were at the Gryffindor table. You quickly scanned the other three tables, taking extra time when looking at the Ravenclaw table, in case they decided to switch things up and were waiting for you at a different table tonight. You even glanced over at the Slytherin table, knowing that the chance of them being there was greater than the chance of you suddenly owning all the gold in Gringotts. 

Suddenly there was an arm around your shoulder, and Sirius was by your side. “M’lady, would you care to join me for dinner?”

“Oh well of course good sir”. You laughed as you allowed Sirius to steer you towards the Gryffindor table. You sat down next to him and saw James, Marlene, Peter, and Dorcas all walking in together, talking as they made their way over to you and Sirius at the table. You started to pour yourself a glass of pumpkin juice when you realized that your friends were definitely up to something. The girls acting this cozy with the boys? All while wearing mischievous smiles on their faces and staring at you? Yep, something was definitely going on. You wondered if it had anything to do with Lily and Remus’ absences and wondered for a moment if that meant James was planning another elaborate show of love for Lily with Remus acting as the distraction.

“Alright, you lot are up to no good, what is it this time?” You did your best impression of Professor McGonagall, making Dorcas, Marlene, and Peter burst out in laughter and earning impressed smirks from Sirius and James. 

“My dear, wonderful, talented potion maker Y/N/N, could you kindly identify this potion for us?” James pulled a vial out of his pocket, took off the lid and handed it to you. Even if you hadn’t noticed the distinct coloring, the immediate smell of chocolate and Lily’s fresh linens hit you and you knew that somehow your friends had gotten ahold of their own bit of Amortentia.

“Guys, you can’t be serious? You can’t give someone Amortentia, that’s incredibly unethical and not to mention-”

“Don’t worry my wise little friend, we aren’t dosing anyone. But, you can confirm this is Amortentia?” Sirius smirked at you while taking the vial out of your hands, all the while leaving the cap off.

“Yes of course, how did you get it? What are you doing with it?”

“Never mind that, and just wait and see.” Sirius said as Marlene leaned into your ear to whisper (“nicked it from Sluggy’s office earlier”).

At that exact moment, Lily and Remus came up to the table, deep in discussion. “Hey everyone.” Remus smiled at you as he greeted everyone.

“Here, mate. You can take my seat and I’ll move over- woah, sorry Moons.” In his attempt to stand up and allow Remus to swap spots with him, Sirius slipped and managed to pour the entire vial of Amortentia down Remus’ robes. Before anyone could offer him a napkin to wipe it off the Muggle way, or could get their wand out for a quick Scourgify, Remus started laughing.

“Merlin, Sirius, it really wasn’t that important for you to prove. We get it, you don’t know that Y/N usually smells like lilacs, you didn’t need to go out and nick her perfume to prove that the rest of us recognize it.” Remus continued laughing as your jaw dropped. 

All of a sudden, it made sense. As the pieces fell together, you realized why Sirius had stolen the Amortentia from Slughorn’s office and why ¾ of the Marauders were conspiring with your friends. You quickly realized that the reason no one was quick to help clean up the mess was because unlike you, they knew it was coming and wanted to make sure that Remus would identify your scent before it was gone. You also figured that the reason Lily came late was to distract and slow down Remus so everyone else could have time to have you identify the potion, and that Sirius’ spill was as purposeful as him initially taking the seat next to you. Not for the first time that day, you knew that Remus unknowingly caused you to both smile, and blush while trying to hide both. 

“I suddenly remembered that I need to ask my girl Minnie McG about Quidditch and that I need Sirius, Peter, Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas with me for moral support.” James jumped up from the table, and after a nod from Sirius, the rest of your friends stood up and quickly headed towards the front of the room.

“All of them? That’s so odd. Y/N, your perfume is rather lovely as always, but would you mind passing me a napkin?” Remus awkwardly brought his hand up to scratch behind his ear as he sat down across from you, waiting for an explanation and a napkin.  You instead got your wand out and muttered a quick scourgify, handing Remus a glass of pumpkin juice instead.

“Erm, Remus.”

Before you could say anything else, Remus (finally noticing the hesitation in your voice and amusement on your face) panicked that he had made you uncomfortable by recognizing your perfume, “Oh so earlier the boys and I were talking about our friends and Peter mentioned that he knew that you smelled like lilacs because of that one Hogsmeade trip and then-”

“Remus!” You reached across the table and placed your hand on his, hoping that you were guessing correctly in that your scent was romantically in his Amortentia, and that it wasn’t there just as a good friend.

“Yes?” This time, it was Remus’ turn to flush, and though his hand twitched nervously under yours, he didn’t dare move a muscle.

“That wasn’t my perfume Sirius spilled on you. It was, well, it was some leftover Amortentia from this morning. Wait, hey, wait, let me finish okay?” You smiled sweetly at him, knowing that his nerves had to be extreme right now. “Do you remember the third thing I smelled this morning? The chocolate? It’s you, of course it’s you Remus. I mean honestly, do you think I fancy the cashier at Honeydukes?” You winked at him, then took a deep breath.

“Listen, Rem, if I’ve got this all wrong and you smelled my perfume platonically like I smelled Lily, just say the world and we’ll never mention this again but, I fancy you, a lot. I figure that I know us both well enough to know that neither of us are really keen on being the one to make the first move. So I was wondering if I could borrow a little of your Gryffindor courage?”

Remus (who was displaying the strongest case of Y/N face in recorded history) nodded, happy but also curious to see where you were going with this. You smiled and took a breath to steady yourself as you lifted the hand that wasn’t currently on his and placed it lightly on the side of his face. If hearts could melt, yours would have been absolute liquid at the sight and sensation of Remus smiling and leaning into your hand. You slowly started to lean in, wanting to give him the opportunity to change his mind. 

Finally, for the first time since he realized he fancied you all those years ago, Remus Lupin decided to do something about it and leaned in to meet you halfway. Remus turned the hand on the table upwards, so as to hold your hand properly while kissing you and you smiled into the kiss thinking that if Gryffindor courage meant getting to kiss Remus like this, you might talk to Dumbledore about a house transfer.

As you pulled away, you heard a noise behind you and turned around to find Professor McGonagall staring at the two of you, as you both blushed but remained holding hands.

“Miss L/N, Mr. Lupin, I assume I don’t have to remind you that public displays of affection need not occur in the Great Hall?” McGonagall tilted her head and spoke sternly, and before you could apologize, Sirius and James came quite literally running up to the three of you.

“Minnie, it’s young love!! You can’t deny them that!” Sirius yelled as James dramatically pretended to cry, hand clutched to his chest. 

“Oh pull yourselves together boys, and get on with dinner.” As soon as Minerva McGonagall turned away from you, she could no longer keep a smile from creeping onto her face. She was ready to collect her galleons from Pomona Sprout about which of the two of you would make a move first (she counted your declaration as a move as the kiss was mutual), and could later be heard laughing over pudding “Well of course, I wasn’t going to deny them that, I mean did they see me revoking house points? No, but I can’t let them know we approve, Albus, it takes away half the fun”). 

[wildcardaces]

@ruby-static "clover hatching :D and dans rules" edition!

Everyone needs moar wholesome so here it is-!

Future/mom Shira calls the triple threats the moment clover pips through the shell. And she'd give them an honorary "hey wanna meet the lil babi" pass. The TT would probably be both excited and nervous.

The babi she SLEEPS! And Shira is fawning over the smol clover along with the others.

Emperor penguins take like 66 days to develop- thats a lot of days.

So I tend to end up watching a show called NCIS sometimes and- the main character Gibbs has a bunch of rules. And honestly? I may or may not have borrowed that idea for Dan.

They're rules that he uses when in the EPF. He hasn't got them written down and everyone keeps telling him to. But at this point they all remember the rules like he does.

Am I ending this with angst? Yes I am.

When shade died. Dan was shocked because he was so certain that shade would survive his wounds and get better.

During that night of shades death, Dan grabs a bit of paper and writes somthing down on it...

"Rule number 51. Sometimes....you're wrong"