#she also liked baking i remember baking an apple pie with her once

[tabslabs]

Me & my mom: listening to jazz My mom: it’s kinda neat how your great grandma met her husband at a dance club Me, who has known this fact since I was 5, just now realizing that dance clubs in nyc in the late 30s were playing jazz when they met: huh.. yea

[tubapun]

How I think the Mane 6 would blog on tumblr

Twilight Sparkle; would have a huge tagging and side blog system for colors, themes, characters, theories, pairings, and 2 designated tags for her friends, one for their posts and one for posts that make her think of them. Does a lot of science and language posting, as well as magic. Vent posts about her studies in a very poetic way. Never hits post limit after becoming a princess cause she doesn't have the time

Pinkie Pie; only tags she uses are various emojis and keysmashes, but if you take time to translate them you find that the emojis do actually have a system and many refer to her friends. Reblogs basically everything and anything so long as it makes her laugh, hits post limit a lot and has a queue that will never empty. Occasionally you'll see the most amazing baked goods ever made with the caption "made this for funsies lmao 😂😂😋😋"

Rainbow Dash; tags her interests, which means she has a wonderbolts tag, a weather tag, and a daring do tag. Otherwise she just scrolls and reblogs with occasional commentary, fairly standard user. Lots of wlw stuff tho, and a sideblog full of frou frou stuff she likes but doesn't want anyone to know about. She posts stunt fails a lot, but not hers. Lots of fanfic links tho. Hits post limit once or twice a month, more on DD release months

Fluttershy; very aesthetic based, literal cottage core. But also occasionally you'll see death metal and chaos stuff pop up because she meant to put em on a side blog but just can't always remember. No ask box at all cause she can't deal with answering them. When she hits post limit she apologizes for disappearing the next day. Tag system is mostly about animals, which she'll sometimes tack on facts about

Rarity; has a whole fashion blog with tags based on fabrics, jewels, seasons, the whole nine yards. She also reblogs aesthetic food pics, mostly sundaes. She only answers mean anons cause she gets to crytype her answers and it's a fun easy way to vent. Has a sideblog that she uses to post stuff pinkie tags her in cause she's very fond of her but by celestia that's not going on her main. Doesn't hit post limit

Applejack; has posted once, a single picture of an out of focus apple with her reflection in it, very clearly trying to figure out how camera work. The caption is "apnle tiem" because she can't type with her hooves damnit, everyone else uses their fancy magic or wings or whatever pinkie does, and she doesn't care enough to learn now, she only joined cause pinkie looked at her real sad cause she wanted to follow all her friends

[crissiebaby]

The Sissy Godmother, Pt. 3

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, magical transformation, humiliation, crossdressing, hypermessing, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

Commissioned By: Bricks66

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“Lane! Lane, talk to me!” shouted Ruby, frantically shaking her best friend in hopes of bringing him back to reality. Sadly, her efforts appeared to be in vain since, much like Josh, Lane was fully under the Fairy Godmothers' spell, turning him into a docile, yet energetic sissy baby. Not that Ruby was aware that Lane and Josh had succumbed to any sort of world-altering magic. And while she hadn’t known Josh long enough to know for certain if this was abnormal behavior, this was far and away out of character for Lane, “Dude, snap out of it! D-Did Josh talk you into this?!”

Despite the abundance of concern that was baked into every word that came out of Ruby’s mouth, Lane found nothing out of the ordinary about his new behavior. In his mind, he was acting no different than how he always had. He looked up at Ruby, smiling at her like she was the light of his life. “Mama,” he said without so much as a hint of embarrassment.

“M-Mama?” stuttered Ruby, her heart racing as everything around her seemed to be moving at lightning speed. Sure, playing with Josh all day yesterday had been a blast but she couldn’t be somebody’s Mommy, even if it was just for pretend…right? As Lane inched forward and latched onto her right leg, she felt overwhelmed by the joy and love that came from being seen as the apple of a Little’s eye, unaware that the spell that had turned Josh and Lane into babies was also having quite the effect on her mind as well.

Spotting that Lane was receiving far more attention from Ruby, Josh plopped his thumb out of his mouth and scrunched up his face into a pout. Ruby was his Mama! Standing up on wide, wobbly legs, he squatted down and released an obnoxiously loud *BLOOOOORRT!*

Looking up from Lane just in time to see Josh filling his pampers to the brim, Ruby unconsciously waved goodbye to viewing either of her boys as equal peers, with the scent of Josh’s mucky diaper serving as the final nail in her caregiver's coffin. “Uh oh! Is one of my little girls having tummy troubles? Don’t worry, Mommy will change you as soon as you finish up,” she cooed, earning a happy face from Josh in response. 

Not wanting to be outdone, Lane stood up from the grip he had on Ruby’s leg and proceeded to match Josh’s posture as a second, even louder *SPLOOOOOORRRRRT!!!* echoed throughout the study room. “I tinky too, Mama!” he said, proud as can be about his messy accomplishment.

“That you are, my little cutie pie. Looks like I’ve got two babies to change now,” said Ruby, tickling under Lane’s chin and causing him to giggle uncontrollably. It was a sight that made her heart soar. She’d always wanted a Little of her own to take care of for as long as she could remember, and now she had two! They may not have been the little girl she’d always dreamed of but as a pair of sissies, they were the next best thing.

The rest of the day played out much like this with Josh and Lane constantly locked in battle for Ruby’s attention and affection. However, as the sun began to set, the realization that she had wasted most of her Sunday failing to study for the pair of finals she had on Monday morning. She found it surprisingly difficult to pull herself away from her two little angels, wanting nothing more than to snuggle and play with each of them. But eventually, she managed to get herself somewhat on track once she had managed to put Josh and Lane to sleep, with each of them resting against each other on the couch. 

As the hours ticked away, Ruby could feel the need to sleep rising with each piece of material she reviewed. Sadly, it didn’t matter how much she craved her bed. Having spent the whole day playing, she had no choice but to cram until sunrise.

*DONG! DONG! DONG!*

Hearing the sound of the campus clock tower in the distance, Ruby groaned as she pressed her forehead against her textbook. By this point, the unending rows of tiny text had given her a massive migraine. She squinted her eyes shut and wished for the upcoming week to be over already. It may have only been her sophomore year but she could already feel the weight of senior slump dragging her down.

Unbeknownst to Ruby, the same glittery haze that had seeped in through the study room’s window for the past two nights had begun to compile on the floor beside her yet again. Unlike with Josh and Lane, though, there was something about the way that the Fairy Godmother’s vortex that felt rushed, as though for once she was paying no mind to her usual theatrics. “Well, I never! This entire venture has turned into a farce of epic proportions,” said the Godmother, not even waiting for her physical form to fully appear before speaking.

Jumping away from the sound of the Godmother’s voice, Ruby immediately moved to the couch and placed an arm on Josh and Lane with their safety being at the forefront of her mind. She was rendered speechless as the windy vortex vanished, leaving behind the ball gown-clad Godmother.

“You there,” said the Godmother, pointing a finger at Ruby while holding up a long scroll with her other hand. She harshly snapped her fingers, causing a pair of reading glasses to appear on her face, “Ruby Malick, yes?”

Nodding her head out of fear, Ruby was still too stunned to answer verbally. Luckily, a nod of confirmation was all the Fairy Godmother needed to proceed. “Finally. You’ve caused quite a mess of trouble the past two days,” she said, punctuating her sentence with a self-righteous, “Hmmmf!”

“I-I’m sorry?” stuttered Ruby. She wasn’t exactly certain why she was apologizing but based on the Godmother’s tone, it was clear she had done something wrong.

Snapping her fingers again and causing the scroll to disappear in thin air, the Godmother raised her wand and slowly began to fill the room with the same sparkly glitter she had used to transform Josh and Lane. “Well, you’d better be sorry. Every night, hundreds of thousands of boys and girls cry out for their dreams to be fulfilled. And here you are, possessing two Littles to look after and your caregiver’s heart still isn’t satisfied,” she said as the glitter started pooling around Ruby’s legs, “Well if being a caregiver won’t satisfy you, I’ll just have to see to it that you’re satisfied in a different way.”

“W-What?! A…caregiver’s heart?! I don’t even know what you’re talking abou-MMMMMF!” said Ruby, her words coming to an abrupt halt as the bulb of a pacifier invaded her mouth. She reached up to remove it, only for a pair of padded mittens to form on her hands just as she made contact with the magically-appearing binky.

With a wide smirk imprinted across her mouth, the Fairy Godmother watched as aspects of Ruby’s wardrobe began to instantly transform. Normally, as with Josh and Lane, the Godmother liked to draw out the transformation sequence, either for the sake of her subject or to have a bit of fun in her own right. Though, when it came to Ruby’s case, she was more than happy to get the process over with as expediently as possible.

“Don’t worry your silly little head about what a caregiver’s heart is. You’ll have no need for it very soon,” said the Godmother as she began to spread the dust to other parts of the study room, allowing the space to take on several changes. The backpacks that were scattered across the room changed into a set of diaper bags. The table at the center of the room shrank and shifted in color, becoming a cutesy kid’s table with drawing supplies scattered across it. Most notably, the couch that Josh and Lane were still slumbering away on expanded with wooden beams growing around it until it formed a massive crib that was big enough to fit several people inside.

As the room that had once been used as a place for scholars to sharpen their knowledge transformed into an ABDL dream nursery one piece of furniture at a time, Ruby’s new attire continued to take shape. Similar to Josh, her top began to stretch toward her feet before wrapping around her crotch where an ultra-thick and plush diaper was rapidly inflating in all directions and forcing her legs apart. However, unlike Josh, the fabric of her newly-formed onesie continued to expand downward, absorbing her legs and feet in a matter of seconds. Additionally, the fabric also claimed her arms, attaching itself to her puffy mittens at the wrist. As the crinkly clothing settled into place, her heart sank as she realized that she was now wearing a pink, full-body PVC playsuit with a built-in bib that read, “Lil’ Stinker.” As a finishing touch, a bonnet with silk lining wrapped itself over her head, snapping into place at the chin.

“There, now you fit in much better with your two little sissies,” said the Godmother, snickering as it appeared to click in Ruby’s mind what had happened to her two friends. She raised her wand high as the perfect punishment popped into her head, “Though, I don’t think they’ll appear very little from your perspective from now. Henceforth, you will always feel like the smallest baby in the room, no matter how much bigger and stronger you might be. Fare thee well, my child. You shan’t ever see me again.”

Shaking her head no, Ruby ran toward the Godmother, forced to waddle with every step thanks to her ridiculously enormous diaper. Unfortunately, as soon as she was within arms reach, the Godmother lowered her arm, tapping her wand against Ruby’s forehead. And then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone, as was the world that Ruby had once known. Gone was the college that had once been students of, replaced by a luxury nursery that any adult baby would be lucky to have.

*GUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRGGGGGLE!!!*

Simultaneously, the final changes affecting Ruby’s mind suddenly took hold as a noisy bubbling in her stomach made its presence known. She attempted to hold onto her adult way of thinking as best as she could but it wasn’t long before the mounting pressure in her gut took over every thought in her head. Unable to prevent the impending tidal wave from crashing down on her, she gasped as she felt her bowels suddenly give out.

*BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRT!!!*

Before Ruby could even comprehend what was happening to her, every mature thought in her head was sent spiraling through her body before depositing itself in her bloating diaper. Lost in a haze of confusion, her legs gave out, squashing the mushy contents of her diaper in the process. Overwhelmed by both her hypermessy diaper and her inability to process complex information, she began to sob loudly and passionately.

This caused Josh and Lane to stir, raising their heads with pensive expressions due to their crush’s cries. Both she and they may have been regressed but if anything, that only increased the boys’ desire to be at Ruby’s side. They eagerly climbed out of the crib, racing each other to be the first to comfort Ruby. “Wuhs wong, Wuby? Chus neesa new diapee?'' asked Josh meekly.

“I fink she neesa hug mo den anyfing,” said Lane, not waiting for a response from Ruby to encircle her in his arms.

Mimicking Lane’s actions so as not to be left out, Josh quickly embraced Ruby as well, smushing her between their two silk-covered bodies. As she soaked in the warmth and softness of their embrace, her sadness slowly melted away, replaced by a soft, fragile smile. “Fankoos, chus guys. I wuv chus bof so much,” she said, squeezing them in closer. So long as she had her big brothers by her side to comfort her, she never had anything to be sad about ever again. Feeling content, she relaxed in Josh and Lane’s arms, forgetting why she had even been so stressed in the first place.

THE END.

PART 1 PART 2

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Edited by AllySmolShork

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine.

Word Count: 1904

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. May have future SMUT 18+!

Warnings: Angst, Fluff. Insinuations of intimacy.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 34 - An Unexpected Intrusion

Dean lay there, holding her close as his mind wandered. Normal, that word continued playing through his thoughts. It was sometime after seven, and he wasn’t ready to leave the warmth of his bed nor the comfort of having her snuggled up to him.

He could feel her breathing rhythmically as she slept, probably dreaming. Dean thought about the day before, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, remembering the way she looked, laughing, relaxed, and carefree during their snowball fight. The way the light had filtered through the trees made her look angelic in its rays.

Could we really have a normal life, he thought to himself. In his mind, he could see her in a sundress, baking an apple pie in a kitchen, more than likely barefoot. He smiled again when he felt her stir against his chest.

“Mornin’, Sweetheart,” he told her softly, kissing the top of her head.

“Mmmm, mornin',” she mumbled sleepily, not ready to open her eyes.

“You sleep okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Good dreams I didn’t want to wake from,” she replied, smiling a little.

That made Dean chuckle quietly, “Oh yeah? What about?”

“Me and you, and normal,” she hummed, stretching a little.

The two shifted so that they were lying on their sides facing each other, Dean caressing her cheek with the back of his hand, “Sounds nice.”

“It was, and we had a dog,” she chuckled, knowing he wasn’t very fond of animals.

Dean laughed softly, “Not sure how I feel about the dog part.” “I know. I’ve always wanted one, though,” she sighed, “We should get up. I have something I need to share with everyone.”

He looked at her, a bit confused, “Did something happen?” he asked, now also concerned.

“Sort of. I’d rather only say it once, though,” she told him, then kissed him, effectively shutting up any argument he could come up with.

Almost an hour later, they joined the others in the library, smiles on both their faces, “Why do you two always come out here looking guilty as hell?” Bobby asked them, barely managing to hide his amusement.

Maria blushed, unable to hide her embarrassment at his comment, as the two sat beside each other. “Probably because they are,” Sam teased them playfully.

“No less than the two of you,” Dean shot back just as playfully.

Maria was happy that the morning had a lightheartedness to it, and that there was laughter. There were a few more family jabs as they enjoyed coffee together. She was hopeful that moments like this could fill their future.

Normal, she thought to herself, smiling.

Dean leaned over and kissed her cheek, “You gonna share that little something now?” he whispered, wanting to keep it between the two of them until she was ready. However, his curiosity was getting the better of him.

She took a deep breath, looking down at the coffee in her hands, then nodded. Mari hadn’t said anything that morning, but there was a knowing look in her eyes.

“I have news,” Maria began, all of their eyes now on her, “I went to Hell this morning.”

“You did what?!” Bobby exclaimed before Dean had a chance to shake his shock and make words.

Maria shrugged a little, “I woke up and just knew that I had to go. So, I went,” she stated, somewhat casually. She also focused on allowing their emotions to move around her and not consume her.

“Wonderful!” Mari said excitedly, clapping her hands, “How did it go?”

The others looked at Mari, confused, shocked, and practically speechless at her excitement. Maria was the only one who chuckled, finding her angel mother adorable in an almost childlike way.

“It went really well,” Maria replied, looking up at all of them, “I met Alastair and Lilith. Neither were happy to see me, but Lilith begrudgingly agreed to my terms.”

“I’m so proud of you, Little One,”  Mari told her, beaming.

“What terms?” John asked, just as curious as the others.

“All the souls that were meant to be in heaven, are now there. Demons will stay off of Earth once the peace spreads to encompass it. The icing on the cake, Lilith agreed to a reform program for the damned souls that want to go to Heaven,” Maria explained to them.

Mari had seen that as a possible outcome. The only one of the things she’d seen that was guaranteed was that demons wouldn’t be able to go to Earth anymore. What Maria had accomplished was beyond what Mari had hoped would happen, and a few tears slid down her cheeks, which she quickly wiped away.

“Wow. Not bad, Sis,” Sam chuckled.

Dean didn’t know what to say, too many emotions coursing through him. So, he just cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Yeah, he’d agreed to keep the PDAs to a minimum, but this was an exception. Maria was more than surprised but soon relaxed and kissed him back. 

“I love you,” Dean told her, once he pulled away, causing her to smile with adoration as she looked into those beautiful green eyes of his.

“I love you too,” she chuckled, finding him absolutely adorable.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Bobby grumbled, trying not to chuckle himself.

Giggles could be heard from around the library as Maria blushed slightly and sipped her coffee. She wondered if there was even a way to describe the type of contentment she felt at that moment. 

“You need to stop what you’re doing,” a man said from the war room, causing all of them to get to their feet quickly.

Maria moved so that she could see who it was, as her Uncle was blocking her view. She took a slow, deep breath when she saw who was standing there. Dean went to move so that he was standing in front of her, but she made her way so that she was between the man and her family.

“I won’t, and you need to leave my family alone,” she told him somewhat confidently.

The man just chuckled at her boldness, “You’re not in charge, and I’m tired of you interfering.”

“Who the hell are you?” Bobby growled.

“I’m God,” he answered plainly, keeping his focus on Maria, “Zamairle, Castiel, you’ll both face your punishment for your transgressions.”

Maria straightened up, keeping herself calm, “I’m gonna make this as clear as I can. You will not be punishing anyone, and you’ll be leaving my family alone.” Chuck sighed, “You need to learn your place,” he told her, then raised his hand and snapped his fingers, but nothing happened. He looked confused as he snapped his fingers a couple more times, and still, nothing happened.

“I told you, you’ll not mess with my family,” she reiterated to him.

Mari smiled proudly while the others just watched the interaction. Cas tilted his head. Seeing God like this only reinforced that his decision to stand with Maria had been the right one.

Chuck glared at her, “If you don’t back down, I’ll have no choice but to get the angels involved. You can’t stop all of them,” then he smirked, “You also can’t be in two places at once.” And with that, he disappeared.

She took a deep breath, then exhaled, calming her nerves, “So much for diplomacy,” she mumbled, lowering her head slightly. 

Maria walked over to the archway of the library, placing her hand against it. She focused her thoughts, wanting the bunker completely protected from any kind of attack that might come from Heaven, God, or any of the angels. A purple glow grew around her hand and on the archway as she closed her eyes, taking slow, deep breaths. The others just silently watched her. For a brief moment, the bunker shook slightly, similar to how it would if there was an earthquake, and then it just stopped as the glow faded.

“What the hell was that?” Bobby asked, trying not to sound as worried as he was.

She sighed as she returned to sit in her seat, “That was God. I had hoped he would be more willing and accepting of things… but I guess not.” They all sat back down, Dean rubbing her back gently as he leaned his other arm on the library table, “What was that thing you did?” he asked her.

“I made the bunker safe. God can’t enter here again, and neither can the other angels. I also made it so they can’t attack it,” she explained.

“Glad we got to have a day outside,” Jess mumbled, sighing.

“I’ll need to go to Heaven soon,” Maria told them, feeling that pull, just like she had early that morning before she’d gone to Hell.

Dean leaned close to her, kissing the side of her head, “Don’t worry, we’ll all stay inside,” he tried to reassure her, even if he didn’t want her to go.

“We’re ready when you are,” Cas told her before Mari could.

“I’ll let you know when it’s time,” Maria sighed.

Maria sat there, sipping her coffee, lost in her thoughts. At least Hell had gone easy, she thought to herself. With God getting involved like this, she knew that Heaven was going to be more of a challenge. She had no plans of hurting any of the angels, no matter what happened. Violence wasn’t the answer, and she knew it. She also wondered if he’d return to Heaven and make his presence known after being gone for so long. That would or could also complicate things for her.

Two hours later, she looked over at Cas and Mari, “It’s time,” she told them, feeling slightly nervous. She could feel her family's worry as she stood, “I’ll be okay, and I’ll be back.”

At least when she’d gone to Hell, they’d all been asleep, so there hadn’t been any goodbyes. Now, though, they all hugged her, giving her encouraging words as they did. Dean waited till the others were done before he pulled her close against him, one hand on the back of her head, the other wrapped around her.

“I wish I could go with you,” he whispered.

“I know,” she sighed, holding him close, “I’ll have Mari and Cas with me. I’ll be okay.”

“Just come back to me,” he again whispered, and she felt what he feared most: losing her.

“I promise I’ll come back,” she tried to reassure him.

Dean pulled back, but only far enough so that he could kiss her. It was soft, slow, intimate butterfly kisses that she returned. She could tell he was fighting with his emotions and his fears.

“I love you,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his.

“I love you too,” he replied through a shaky breath, then kissed her forehead before she pulled away.

Maria walked to the other side of the library tables where Cas and Mari were standing, waiting patiently, “Leave your blade here, Cas,” she told him softly.

Cas looked at her, slightly puzzled again, but didn’t argue. He took his angel blade out of his coat pocket and placed it on the library table, and Maria smiled at him. Mari didn’t have an angel blade, as she’d chosen a different path. They nodded at her, and then the three flew to Heaven. Dean grabbed the whiskey and several glasses, even if none of the others were drinking, he needed it. 

----------------------------------------- Chapter 35 - Heaven

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

[friaronthemoon]

The Mane 6 and weed.

Sorry in advance.

Fluttershy:

She smokes. Big time. Didn’t start until she moved to Ponyville, though. I don’t really remember what her parents were like (sorry) but I’m gonna say they were pretty conservative about it (more protective of her than judgemental of others) and so was she by default. Butttt her anxiety spiked for awhile after leaving Cloudsdale because of the lack of familiarity and Tree Hugger (one of the first friends she makes in Ponyville) puts her onto it. She mainly only used it for MAJOR anxiety spikes and medicinal shit but has become a lot more recreational with it since. Is the best roller of anybody anywhere but prefers a pipe or w33d tea. She’s already pretty lax with the mane 6 since they’re her best friends but smoking makes her a bit more perky in convo and likes cracking jokes. Becomes more receptive to touch and she realizes she actually really likes physical touch and cuddling. In a convo with her she’d probably end up petting your hair or something. Has the cleanest setup ever. Grows some of her own personal favorite strains in her garden and likes to smoke with other herbs too. Is always offering to give away to friends, and loved to talk about the different herbs she likes to mix when she smokes.

Applejack:

Okay let’s be fucking serious. Was incredibly conservative about smoking way up until the mane 6 came together. Probably only smoked once in high school and did it wrong and assumed that shit was useless. Rainbow Dash basically peer pressures her into trying it again (because you know she would) when the mane 6 consider trying it together and she likes it! She doesn’t smoke that often— maybe every other week or so with the mane 6, and wouldn’t really want to smoke alone bc of paranoia. She’s not used to letting her mind kind of just fly free and it alarms her, but its refreshing and pleasant for her. It helps with sores and body aches from working at Sweet Apple Acres too. Would probably die on the spot if Apple Bloom found out. Can roll a half-decent j if she had to but there isn’t much of a need. Makes her more giddy and playful but also more relaxed?? Becomes very giggly and starts fidgeting with anything she can find. Her munchies aren’t INSANE in the way that she’s never full but she almost cries at everything she eats because it feels like eating it for the first time every time she smokes. Is insistent on bringing fresh made desserts because of this. Likes to flirt with Rainbow Dash because she knows RD can’t handle it. Buys pre rolls from Fluttershy and smokes with Big Mac bc she thought it might be a good way for them to bond (and she knows that he deals with a lot of aches and pains too). Butttt she tries to avoid smoking too often when not with the mane 6 because she still lowkey believes that it’s a gateway drug.

Pinkie Pie:

She’s no necessarily new to smoking but has never had a real opportunity since she doesn’t wanna smoke solo. Everything is funner with the friends!! Would never ever smoke with any of her sisters besides Maude. Starts smoking more often after meeting/becoming friends with Fluttershy. She mellows out in the way that she’ll still talk your ear off but she stays hyper focused on a single topic at a time, and will have you caught up in an hour long conversation about the littlest thing. Everything is funny to her. Even more than usual. Constant giggling. The munchies take over and she eats everything like she’s got a bottomless pit in her stomach (me). Her intense baking/decorating skills and the focus required for them definitely transfers to how she rolls. She can roll a mean ass jumbo but it might take her awhile. Enjoys bongs and finds the sound to be very satisfying. Loves working with Applejack and competing against each other in dessert-making competitions.

Rainbow Dash:

Not new to smoking either. Definitely hung around with some assholes smoking boof back at Cloudsdale, and probably got caught trying to smoke in the house once or twice. Bragged allll about how much she smoked and how her tolerance is higher than anybodys just for both Pinkie and Fluttershy to out smoke and her leave her highest she’s ever been. She’ll keep trying to pull pranks on everyone but will be too high to do it right. Ngl she’d be a bit obnoxious and try to start arguments and competitions but she’ll also become very sappy and start telling everyone how much she loves them and that she’s sorry for always trying to pull pranks—and then pulls more pranks. Likes to look at the pictures in her Daring Do comic books and not read a single word. Very intimidated by Applejack. Cannot roll for shit and trust me she’s tried. Has a mini bong, dab pen/cart, and definitely takes advantage of Fluttershy’s willingness to give out freebies. Eventually it catches up to her and she realizes that it’s a bad idea to be constantly smoking if she wants to be The Athelete Ever, so she cuts it back down and only smokes when they do it together. She was very begrudging about it.

Rarity:

Had no interest in smoking ever. It reminded her of some assholes she knew in highschool and thought it was “fiendish and ungraceful” until she saw how Fluttershy smoked. She becomes more huggy and affectionate, and loves gossiping. She also loves looking through and very audibly discussing her opinions on certain magazines (that she always brings with her). Nobody really knows what she’s talking about except for Fluttershy. Will randomly say “I am SO high right now.” as if she’s the only one. Constantly getting into arguments with Rainbow Dash (and winning). Suddenly becomes overly interested in everybody’s hair. She really liked Fluttershy’s setup and got her own just to never even touch it. Suddenly cannot control her own volume and is damn near shouting. Has her own cart/dap pen that she takes with her when she has to travel alone to promote her clothing line. Otherwise she only smokes with the mane 6. Never learned how to roll, and does not plan to.

Twilight Sparkle:

Sigh. She had no interest in smoking whatsoever until they decided to try smoking together and thought it could be a bonding opportunity. Brings a book that she uses as a reference guide for every sesh, and also has a journal of notes detailing strain types, step by step rolling guide, the mechanic of a bong, how weed grows, and everyone’s tolerance and behaviors. Did intensive research on the “process” of smoking, and the general sesh rules. Has an incredibly low tolerance, and has to tap out after only 3 or so hits—but she doesn’t really mind. The mane 6 made it a rule that she’s never allowed to smoke alone. Is actually VERY good at rolling—equal or very close to Pinkie Pie in skill. Asked Fluttershy to teach her and everyone ended up having to wait 2 hours because Twilight insisted on perfecting her rolling technique before they could smoke. Ends up using a bong most of the time because she likes the mechanics. Always talks a bit too loud and fast, and becomes more interested in art, painting, and drawing. Her crush on Pinkie Pie becomes painfully obvious and she always tries flirting with her the moment she gets a bit too high. Constantly trying to have everyone do a group activity together to “increase the bonding” when most them just want to sit around. They always end up indulging her and having fun though.

Bonus?

- Maude has smoked with the mane 6 before but none of them could ever see any changes except Pinkie

-They’ve all mentioned to Fluttershy how they’d like to try edibles—but she knows that they’re all wayyyy to inexperienced enough to handle it

-For some reason they all love watching old black and white shows on mute

-Fluttershy and Rarity both like to smoke their weed with lavender. Rainbow Dash loves a spliff

The Apple Family has their own private piece of land in Sweet Apple Acres that they like to sesh at and take walks along. They also like to bundle up in the old barn that they set up with cushions when it gets too late or cold

Fluttershy has her own small private garden that is separate from the animals where she grows her own strains

Twilight once offered for them to sesh at her tree house because she thought it would be a pleasant atmosphere. Rainbow Dash knocked a book down and Twilight sobbed (she was very high)

Also if this somehowactually does numbers feel free to reboot and add ur own ideas I would love to see em

[rightpastnowhere]

(submitted by @enchantedmerry)

Hi! People are sending you fluffy headcanons, so here’s some more!

Vex and Percy didn’t actually tell Tary that they’d gotten married, it’s more that they were both all caught up being sappy newlyweds and in their defence they both find it really hard to concentrate on anything around them when the other’s kissing them and calling them lovely things. Normally, Tary would just quietly leave as quickly as possible when he walked in on them making out but this time he heard Percy calling her ‘Lady de Rolo’ and he can’t really be blamed for making a squaking sound, he maybe can be blamed for assuming that they were just into some very elaborate roleplay but honestly at least his mind jumping to that makes them eloping seem less shocking.

I’ve already included this in a fic but I love the idea that part of Vex rebuilding the Dawnfather’s temple in Whitestone included making the gardens into an orchard resembling the one they saw in Pelor’s realm. Obviously, it’s very religiously symbolic but also the fruit/selling the fruit could be used to help feed the poorest of Whitestone. Also, it’s very fun to imagine that in centuries time after the specifics of vm’s exploits have begun to drift into myth some poor future Star of Whitestone having an absolute what the FUCK moment when they realise their local church just casually looks that much like the Dawnfather’s actual house.

Pike makes her kids these really elaborate birthday cakes. She asks Kaylie if she wants one too, because it feels mean to leave her out, and she acts like she isn’t bothered but then gets so chocked up when Pike makes her one anyway.

Sometimes the twins just forget that not everyone’s bi. They were mainly round each other for so long and homophobia isn’t a thing in Tal'dorie so it’s not something that comes up much. This very nearly leads to an uncomfortable situation where Vex is just barely able to stop herself from saying 'well obviously’ when one of her kids is just starting to work out their sexuality and tells her they think they want to date people the same gender as themselves.

Whitestone Castle is an incredible playground, there’s so many hidey-holes and different roots to escape capture if you’re being chased, or places to tuck away for more quiet play and avoiding siblings. Cass goes through a very disconcerting series of emotions after stumbling on one of her niblings hidden where she hid from the Briarwoods after the initial attack, the paranoid part of her brain is glad they’re learning the best hiding spots, the rest of her just hopes they never need that knowledge. Ultimately, such morbid thoughts get drowned out as the priority becomes banning magic from their games because it’s unfair, then trying to work out how to re-balance it when at least Gwen (and probably others of the quarter elves) have clearly inherited rogue stats from their mother.

_____________________

IDK THE PROTOCOL FOR POSTING SUBMISSIONS BUT I’M ADDING MY OWN THOUGHTS BECAUSE IM SCREAMING HE L P

I HAD THE SAME THOUGHTS ABOUT TARY FINDING OUT GKJRNGKRJ i knew they would try so hard to be discreet but i ALSO know they’d be giggling to themselves and grinning while calling each other husband and wife because they’re absolutely smitten with each other, and poor tary not only almost sees vex’s tits, but also becomes one of the keepers of The Secret That Shook Vox Machina. his pulse fucking skyrockets any time one of VM came to visit whitestone during the break. the poor man gets grey hairs because of this

NGEKRJGNEKJ CAN U IMAGINE SOMEONE TELLING U THAT THE LOCAL TEMPLE ACTUALLY LOOKS LIKE A GOD’S ACTUAL HOUSE. LIKE CAN U IMAGINE. and also the picture of vex just going through and picking fruits and organizing food drives (but also just keeping a few to herself every once in a while, so she can take them home and try to bake an apple pie like what she remembers of her mom’s). the champion of pelor, glowing golden, in an orchard in the sushine.

picturing pike trying to make a multi-tiered cake that is taller than she is, she asks percy for a step stool and he shows up with this elaborate motherfucker that has shelves at intermittent heights so she can take the icing and shit with her, because heaven forbid percy ever do less than The Most. AND PIKE MAKING KAYLIE A CAKE.... SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE FOR ME

GNKJGNEKJRN GOD the twins are so SILLY i LOVE THEM SO MUCH

AWW CASS <33 i love any content of her interacting with the lil de rolo babies, how she is brought a little out of her paranoid shell by the Joys of being an aunt <33 but i do think she and percy and vex all stay QUITE paranoid, and when they teach the kids about the protocol for if the castle is ever attacked, the fact that they’ve already been playing in the tunnels definitely makes it a little easier. (although i do wonder how often, in their earlier days of parenting, one of the babies disappeared into the tunnels and sent percy and vex into panic attacks, only for cass to show up holding them in her arms after crawling out of an entire wall LMAO)

[hahahahahangst]

Irene (Be The Young 20)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, self-h*rm, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily's life used to be normal. Until one day, her family died, leaving behind just one letter.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

MASTERLIST

Irene

Irene the future I wanted to gift you I had to exchange it for the vinyls I keep in the attic I’ll gift them to you when you’ll be out of hope and you’ll feel defeated

They had been hunting a Djinn. Emily made a wrong move and the last thing she had seen before waking up in a different place was a bright blue light. When she opened her eyes, she was in a familiar place. A baby cried in the background. 

Not any baby. 

Alex. 

Emily’s eyes shot open. She was home. Her actual home. In Portland. 

And Alex was crying. He was alive. 

Maybe it had all been a nightmare.

Maybe it was finally over? 

She ran out of the room and inside Alex’s room. He was there, crying. She had wished to hear it once more many times. She took him out of his crib and rocked him a bit. 

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” She said, caressing his head and trying her best not to cry. 

“Is he hungry again?” Asked a familiar voice behind her. When she turned, Dean came into the nursery. She stared at him, suddenly brought back to reality. 

It wasn’t over. She was hallucinating. None of it was real. 

“Your mom will be back in a couple of hours, but I think dad mentioned she pumped some milk before she left.” Smiled Dean. “Are you okay? You seem sad.” 

“Yeah- No, I’m fine. Thanks Dean.” She hesitated, admiring his calm and his stress free state, something she had rarely seen in Dean before. He seemed way younger than he looked in real life, more relaxed, more happy. He smiled back and left. Emily went down the stairs and reached the kitchen. She had not seen that place in so long it felt like forever. Everything was exactly like she remembered it. The fridge was still covered in the silly magnets her mother brought back from everywhere they went, the wall still had all her childhood drawings on it. 

Next to the front door, her school backpack was flopping on itself, half empty. The living room still had the signs of a movie night. 

Emily put Alex down in his high chair and opened the fridge. Her mom had baked her some carrot cake and next to it, apple pie. She found some pumped milk in the back of the fridge and fed it to Alex, with a gesture so familiar, yet so distant. She quickly started crying. It felt good. Too good. But it wasn’t true. She knew she had to leave and yet, she didn’t want to. 

If she stayed too long, her body was going to die, but being able to live in her own house, holding her brother again, feeding him like that again… Maybe it was worth letting her body die to experience all of it once again. Alex happily drank his milk and the front door opened. 

“Mom’s back!” Emily quickly dried her face from her tears and ran to her mother at the door. She hugged her. “Woah! What’s with all the love, honey?” Asked her mother, hugging her back. 

“I love you mom.” Answered Emily, unable to let her go. “I missed you.” 

“I was just out for the day, Emily, are you okay?” Her mother checked her whole figure, trying to find out if she was hurt or if there was something wrong. Emily enjoyed the warmth of having a parent again for two seconds. Dean also arrived in the entryway. 

“Girls, I’m gonna go see Sam today, will I see you after dinner?” He showed them the car keys, indicating he was about to leave.

“Sam?” Repeated Emily, smiling. “Can I come with you?” 

“Really?” Asked Dean. “I think dad will be there.”

”...and?” Emily already had one arm in her jacket. “Why wouldn’t I want to come?” 

“Well, you.. and dad, you were never exactly in  good terms. It’s the first time you ask me to come along.” 

“Me? Not wanting to see Sam? I highly doubt it.” Smiled Emily, closing her jacket. “Come on, let’s go.” Dean, clearly confused, exchanged a weird look with Emily’s mother and then left. Emily followed him, expecting to sit in the Impala. 

Instead, Dean unlocked a family van. 

“Wait, you drive this?” She asked, confused. 

“We all do, dumbass. Come on, visiting time doesn’t last all night.” He said, turning on the engine and looking at Emily entering the vehicle, impatient. 

“Visiting time?” Repeated Emily, progressively putting pieces together. 

Dean exhaled. “Emily, are you high again?” He questioned, disappointed. 

“What? No, I’m-” Dean entered a street that Emily knew very well: it brought to the hospital. 

Visiting time doesn’t last all night. 

“Dean, why is Sam in the hospital?” Her eyes filled with tears again. 

”...so you are high- Emily, there was a car crash, remember? You drove into a tree.” 

Emily inclined her head, not understanding, and kept looking at him, waiting for an explanation. “Emily, I thought you were finally sober.” 

“Dean, I-” 

“Nevermind, you never change. You just traded alcohol for weed.” He got out of the car, leaving her behind. Emily followed him. 

“Wait! Really, I’m not high or… drunk, Dean, listen!” She caught up to him in the hospital lobby. “I was captured by a Djinn, I’m stuck in this hallucination!” 

”...a what?!” Dean rolled his eyes and entered the elevator. “Whatever you smoked, kid, it’s not the good stuff.” 

“Dean, I’m not high! I’m on the job!”

“Sure you are.” Dean left the elevator shaking his head. Emily kept following him until he entered one of the rooms.  

Sam was lying on the hospital bed, perfectly still. He didn't have as many machines as Dean had when he almost died. He was there, the monitor beeping rhythmically, slowly, almost peacefully, keeping him alive. 

Sitting next to his bed was John. Emily looked at him and smiled, but he didn't smile back. 

“What is she doing here?!” He asked instead, angry. 

“Dad, now's not the time. She just wanted to see Sam.” 

“She's the reason he's here! She's a fucking drunk and she killed my son!” 

Emily, shocked, took a step back, bumping into a table. “Wait, is… is this my fault?” She asked. 

“Of course it is, you-”

“DAD!” Interrupted Dean. “I don't think she remembers any of it at the moment.”

“Are you telling me she's drunk again?” 

“I'm not drunk, listen!” Emily pleaded. “This is not real, it's created by-” Emily looked at Dean and John. They didn’t know what a Djinn was. They weren’t hunters. John shot out of his chair, aggressive, but Dean was quicker and he accompanied Emily outside of the small room. He took her face into his hands. Emily closed her eyes and started crying. It was probably the most affection she had felt from Dean since they had met. 

“Kid, listen, I know the crash was- it was the worst thing at the worst moment, but… You can't slip into it again. Think about how much it took you to stop drinking- don't make us go through all of that again.” Of all the things Emily wanted to ask, she chose to say nothing. She could have asked if Sam was really there because of her, if they had ever been happy, but she chose to enjoy the hug Dean was offering and cried. “It's okay, kid. I'm sorry. I should not have brought you here.” She felt his lips on her hair and then Dean's chin, resting on her head.  Emily knew she had to leave the hallucination. If it felt extremely good to have her mom Alex back for a little, there was another side to the coin and it was a very painful one. 

All she could think about was Sam’s lifeless body, her father’s voice repeating over and over how it was her fault. 

When they arrived back home, Emily went directly to Alex and her mother, who where still in the kitchen finishing up dinner. Emily stopped her mother from doing the dishes. 

“Don’t worry, I got them.” She kissed her. Her mother seemed surprised and went to take care of Alex. As she did the dishes, she tried not to think of any of the bad things. To just tap in her old life, where she didn’t know the Winchesters, when everything was easy, when everything was always clouded by the familiarity of being safe, at home. It didn’t come too difficult, despite Dean sitting in the living room watching a soap opera felt a little out of context. 

After doing the dishes, she insisted she took everyone out to get ice cream. 

“Emily, what is going on with you today?” Asked Dean as he sat next to her in the van. 

“I guess… I’m just grateful for what I have left.” 

”....alright? Are you sure you should be driving?” 

Emily raised an eyebrow and looked at her mother, who was sitting behind them. She looked worried. “Of course, uh- I’ll be shotgun.” Emily rolled her eyes and went out and around the car, leaving the driver’s seat to Dean. 

They calmly drove to the Portland mall. Emily took Alex’s stroller and pushed him around for the whole night, occasionally making faces at him to make him laugh. She got her mom ice cream and insisted on getting Dean some apple pie with an ice cream scoop, which they ate while sitting on a bench. “Is it good?” She asked, stealing a piece of cake from Dean’s plate. 

“Very good. Thanks kid.” 

“Ah-” Exhaled Emily, slouching back on the bench to take in her surroundings. “I really wish I could stay here forever.” 

“Why, where are you going?” Asked her mother, confused. 

“Mom, do you know… how if you are about to die in a dream, you wake up?” She asked. Dean and her mother assumed a more worried expression. 

”...I guess, yeah. Why are you asking?” 

“No reason.” 

She could not wait any longer. She spent the rest of the night playing with Alex and having a good time with her mother and the most caring, loving version of Dean she would probably ever encounter, knowing that it was going to be her last night. She wasn’t sure it was going to work, but there were two choices: she died in the dream and woke up alive in the real world, where Dean was an asshole and Sam was alive, while everyone else was dead, or she survived in the dream and died soon after in real life, ending the dream. She went home and kissed everyone good night. She entered her room and locked the door behind her. 

She knew exactly what to do. She had to die. And if she knew herself, she probably had something to do it, right in her room, and that something would have been razor blades, well hidden in the same double bottom she used to hide cigarettes in. 

“Bingo“ she whispered as she extracted a pack of blades. The second she actually felt the cold metal on her skin, she started doubting her plan. 

Maybe it wasn’t that bad. Maybe the time passed slower in the dream, and she could have been there forever. Grow old and see Alex learn how to read, defend him from bullies, drive him to college. Maybe she could have stayed and she could have had a happy life, even if it was a fake one. Even if she only had ten days left in the hallucination, ten days are better than no days. She moved the blade away from her arm and put it on her desk. On it, she saw an open book, with a highlighted quote. We live alone, We die alone. Everything else is just an illusion.

Right. An illusion. She wasn’t living, not really. Her body was most likely tied up somewhere and the djinn was using it to have a thanksgiving feast. The people she loved were really dead. Her house had really burnt down. And Sam and Dean were waiting for her on the other side, the only one that mattered, as painful as it was. 

She took the blade in her hands again and pressed it on her forearm. She traced a long, vertical line. She was weirdly calm as the blood started flowing out, surprisingly painlessly. As she did the same on her other arm, someone knocked on her door. 

“Emily, open the door!” Said Dean’s voice. She closed her eyes and prayed he wouldn’t have a key. That he wouldn’t enter, not at that moment. It didn’t take long for her vision to get blurry, her pressure becoming lower and lower as she felt her body become heavier and heavier. She fell on her side and saw the blurry shape of Dean entering the door and running towards her. The last thing she felt was Dean’s warm hands on her face, then, everything started to re-focus on Dean, who was actually trying to get her to wake up. She grunted, in pain, as she realized the pain she felt in her wrists were actually the ropes she was hanging from. Dean’s face became more focused as he kept calling her. “Emily! Come on, wake up!” 

“Oh god- where’s the djinn?” She opened her eyes.

“Took care of it. Dude, we thought we lost you for a second.” Said Dean, trying to set her free. 

“Oh my god, you know what a djinn is… It worked-” She fell to the ground. Sam appeared in front of her as she sat back up. When she saw him, she stood up and jumped to hug him. 

“Woah, okay- Missed me or something?” 

“Of course I missed you.”

[onbearfeet]

I am making Blackmail Pie.

So in 2016, after, y'know, the thing happened, my mom (who is a sweet, lovely person struggling with decades of untreated depression and bullying from pretty much every man in her life) told me "the family had decided" (my dad had decided) that I wasn't welcome at Thanksgiving that year because my refusal to join Team Red Hat like everyone else with my legal surname was an insult to Jesus or whatever.

Yeah, my family is like that.

So that year, I joined @greatatuintheworldturtle at a different family's shindig. I was warned in advance not to talk about religion, politics, or any of a dozen other old family fights in which I would not remember which side I was supposed to take, so instead of all that I suggested a blanket answer: "What side am I on? Pie. I'm on the side of pie." My answer to every fraught question would be pie. What did I think of someone's new partner? Pie. Geopolitics? Pie. Does that outfit make you look fat? Pie.

Turtle informed me that this would only work if I BROUGHT a pie, so I did some research and practice and showed up on the day with a beautiful homemade apple pie, made entirely from scratch. It was delicious in the way that only all-from-scratch pie can be, the kind of pie that reminds you what mass-produced pies are pretending to. It was also pretty, so I took pictures.

The following year, Mom decided Thanksgiving without her favorite child (she says she doesn't have favorites but I'm the only one she voluntarily spends time with) was bullshit, so I was un-disinvited. And, having heard about the pie she'd missed and seen my pictures, she asked me to bake one for her. So I did. And I did my best to keep the peace for her sake as various male relatives did things like going on pro-Nazi rants at the dinner table, partly to "own the lib" and partly because they're just awful human beings.

Over the next couple of years, Mom went to therapy and started actually standing up to Dad about a few things, and now it seems to be coming to a head somehow. Once again, in 2022, I am invited to Thanksgiving and my pie services are requested, but this time, there's an addendum. Quoth my mother:

"If anyone acts up at the table this year, THEY ARE NOT GETTING ANY PIE."

I'm not sure which outcome appeals to me more: every man in my family having to hold his tongue for an entire dinner, or getting to split an entire pie with my mom.

I hope she leaves room for a lot of dessert.

[farfrompleasant]

Friend! Sorry I missed last week!! I have been running around like a bald chicken!!! (Like all my hair has fallen out but my head's not chopped off, yet! 😂) I'm going back to Utah this month! Holy Ghost help 😭

Speaking of hair, your new profile picture!!! 😍😍😍 The coils! The definition! The xlxmf$8_!'jrkfd my God, and am I crazy or does Miss Freyja KNOW how to Pose?! Speaking of the top of your page, did you have a birthday recently??? If so, why didn't you tell me! I would've gotten you something ❤️ it was just Tia's birthday this week too & I got her a book of poetry by one of my favs, which, 🤓

Okay alright, ahem, Happy Freyja Friday!!! I'm very early 😂 I hope it partway makes up for missing last week 😉 how are y'all doing? You still taking her out for getting used to being outside with you? Once you said she used to go out places with your partner I've felt pretty confident that you'll get there with her. I don't know anything about building a bond with reptiles or how they accumulate affection but I feel like y'all must be on your way!

She shedding this week? (I hope not, poor thing, the overachiever 😂) also I Just remembered you said shedding is kinda stinky so bless you mom too for constantly putting up with it ❤️

What has she been liking to eat nowadays? Any late summer fruit treats??? I vaguely remember you mentioning this but she doesn't eat everyday right? No frozen treats in this heat either big oof

Side note last time I went to the pet store, the box that had the peach throated monitor had a couple of turtles inside. Wonder what happened to peachy friend... You like turtles??? We had two when I was very young but they were pretty neglected in retrospect 😢 I think lizards are the perfect reptile pets, snakes have no legs which is 👎 and turtles have shells which is kind of meh lol

Oh ANOTHER heat wave in CA 💀 y'all stay cool and hydrated as much as you can!!!

Abbie is resting her chin on the sun baked stone tabletop, don't ask me why she ain't bright 😅

Omg nooo, you’re losing hair or are you speaking figuratively? I hope it’s the latter because that sounds very stressful 🥺 and oh man, you are ping-ponging from Utah to Philly at this point! Bless you 🥲 and there’s no need to stress missing last week, Freyja Fridays are to be fun and flexible c;

Dhdjkskd not you gassing meee 🥰🥰🥰 but thank you❤️ I’ve been using blue magic as a sealant and styler and it’s be going well c: and our Freyby pie knows how to pose! I think she enjoys a little camera time, especially since she’s mega photogenic 🤭 ah, idk how to uhm bring up my birthday but you would be correct it was on the 29th c: and you didn’t have to gift me anything! I’m grateful for another year well spent tbh but I appreciate you getting me something and I’m looking forward to reading it 😆 I actually teared up when I got that email… you’re the sweetest, friend ❤️

Lololol, without further ado~ Happy Freyja Friday!!! We’re doing good, Freyja’s been a tad reclusive as of late but I’ve managed to take her out onto the porch c: since schools back in session, it’s been a little challenging for me to spend more quality time with her… so it’s imperative that I handle her sometime throughout my day. But I think it’ll take more time than I’d though ;p I think it has a lot to do with them raising her throughout her juvenile life? I’m unsure but I think we’re well on our way to her being more comfortable with me and traveling 🥰

Surprisingly, she hasn’t had any shedding and I’m so happy for her 😆 like, Miss Girl is always shedding!! So you can imagine how astonishing it was to realize that there was no signs of shedding whatsoever 😭 I think it has a lot to do with me not having time to bathe her last week (which means she pooped in her enclosure… it’s been a while since that happened 🥲) but I think she needed a break or something…

Freyja’s been really into worms and surprisingly diced apples. But they HAVE to be Granny Smith’s apples; she refuses to indulge in any other ones 😂 the girl is major picky when it comes to the color of food! She typically hates green food choices, and will opt for vibrant colors like red or yellow so I was taken aback. She hasn’t been in the mood for dandelion greens or collard greens so I’m thinking of trying out basil? I know she it’s edible for her buuut she hasn’t tried it yet ;p

I’ve always wanted turtles, but I also consider caring for them to be high-maintenance. I mean, I already back bend and more to cater to Freyja so I would assume I’d be doing the most for the little lovelies… still want them though 😭 I’ve always looked at snakes to be tails with a face but they’re kinda cute 🥰 and surprisingly, they’re rather shy c:

I would say we’re trying, but I’m the one that’s trying!💀 but I will make sure that we will stay hydrated ❤️ and I’m unsure of the weather in Utah, but make sure to stay cool and hydrated, friend 🥰

ABBIE!!! She’s sooo cute 🥰 bathing in the sun, basking on the stone top 🥺 you know what, dogs and beardies are too similar because Freyja would definitely pancake in this situation 😂

[postwarlevi]

Farmers Market

Content: It's literally you and Levi at an outdoor market. Enjoy!

"Levi, look here!" You call to him from another stall.

It was your favorite time of year, fall, when the weather cooled down. The outdoor markets were starting back up and it was opening day at your favorite one.

"Look at the size of the peppers, only a dollar!" Somehow produce sales just got you excited.

"They look alright." He says, wondering why they're so cheap.

"We got a good crop right on time this year." The vendor says.

"Let's get some." You say, ready to pull some cash out.

"Gonna go any cheaper?" Levi asks the man behind the table.

"Levi! How much cheaper can they be?" You're a bit embarrassed that he's starting in already. But Levi knows that if it were near the end of the day and there's too much left they always give a better deal.

The vendor laughs though. "Maybe. You know what? You were such good customers last season, if you want to buy in bulk, how about half off? Anything you want today." There really was a lot and he remembered how much you always picked up.

"See?" Levi tells you, kissing your temple, looking at what else there is.

You were convinced Levi could talk anyone into anything, and were happy to use it to your advantage.

Soon your rolling fold up cart is already half full with bell peppers, cucumber, cauliflower, bags of kale and a huge butternut squash that Levi was sure you'd make him cut into, even though he showed you how last time.

He handed the vendor the cash as you thanked him and were already off to another stall. It really was a good deal, not that you needed ten peppers.

You were already haggling over dried fruit and nuts, coming away with eight bags for a decent percentage off, stuffing them in the tote you had.

"I got you hazelnuts and beets." You say, seeing a small smile from Levi. When you weren't looking he rolled his eyes a bit, knowing the vendors must love seeing you coming. But you always made sure to throw in his favorites, and since you didn't come as often as you would like, Levi never minded.

"I'm gonna go to the tea stall. You want the cart?" He asks and you nod.

"What kind of fruit do you want?" You indicate where you're headed next.

"Citrus." As if you didn't know. You kiss his cheek before parting for a little bit.

Levi heads to his favorite tea vendor and sees she has some new stuff this year.

"Hi there Mr Ackerman!" She always tries to remember her returning customers.

He gives a polite hello and soon has overspent on not only his favorites but some new assortments he doesn't remember her having last season. He makes sure to get cinnamon as well, one of your favorites.

Levi passes by someone selling hats, the wide brim straw sun hat with with a purple ribbon catching his eye.

He's pretty sure you've mentioned wanting one, especially on warm days. Picking one up along with some long stemmed sunflowers at the next vendor, he goes to find you.

You're no longer at the fruits, thank goodness, so he goes towards the back.

He stops dead in his tracks after he spots you. In the short time you've been away your hair has been done into one long braid and you're currently modeling a blue and yellow sun dress in another vendors mirror.

You're beautiful in anything, and Levi can hear his heart pounding. Truth be told you could probably wear rags and would still outshine everyone else.

"Levi! You like?" You say, bounding towards him and breaking this thoughts.

He can only nod, reaching to pick up your braid.

"Oh! Some young girls are learning about business and charging five dollars and I wanted to support them. Only took a few minutes. They did so good!"

Levi leans forward to give a quick kiss to your lips, place then hat on your head and holds out the sunflowers.

"This is so great! Thank you." You gush about the things he's gotten you.

You go back to the dress stall to pay and pick up the cart, leaving your other outfit in the tote. Levi takes both the cart and your tote bag, leaving you with the flowers and an extra paper bag you didn't put in the cart.

Levi sees you got the oranges he requested, along with apples, pomegranates, pears and a whole pineapple that, again, you'll probably make him deal with.

You both take a seat for a little while, enjoying warm pastries and agua frescas.

"What's in the bag?" He asks as you've not let go of it yet.

"Your favorite tea vendor? Well, her partner is running a second stall full of products." You pull out the things in the bag.

"It's a tea warming plate." You say as Levi examines it. "Charge it and it'll last for days. Now when you get busy with work it'll always be warm."

"Why don't I already have one of these?" He wonders.

You shrug and dive back into the bag. "Well, now you do. And also, Bath Brew Pockets, and socks."

Levi stares at what surely are gag gifts. "You mean, I can bathe in tea?"

"Or we, unless you want it all to yourself." You then hold up the socks. His black pair with pink writing reads 'If You Can Read This' on one and 'Bring Me Tea' on the other. Your pink pair with black writing reads 'If You Can Read This' and 'Get Your Own.'

Levi chuckles. "These are ridiculous."

You grin. "Well yeah. You gonna use everything?"

"Of course." He would always love everything you picked.

After finishing your snack it's on to grab multiple varieties of honey, apricot and also cherry jam, two loaves of fresh bread and some muffins from your favorite bakery stall, a focaccia and a dozen rolls from another one, and a two pound block of feta, which Levi says you don't need, but in the tote it goes.

You can't help but want the hummingbird mosaic wind chime, and Levi agrees if you promise to put it up, and not store it away. He then goes for yet another plush throw blanket for you to cozy up together under while you pretend there's room for coconut bowls with matching utensils in your cabinets.

It's soon clear that your tote, cart, and both yours and Levis hands are full.

"I think that's all we can manage, love." He tells you.

You know he's right but think there's something you're missing. You could pass on the chocolates this time, but there's something else.

"Oh, what about the orange juice? It's always so good!" You couldn't leave without that.

"Right." He sighs lightly. No use reminding you of all the actual oranges you just bought.

Balancing another bag on the carts handle he tells you to wait for him and is soon back with a gallon of fresh squeezed orange juice.

"Yay!" You are happy to see the new bag.

You start back with all your items and suddenly gasp, remembering one more thing.

"No, I'm sorry, there's no more hands." Levi says, trying to guide you forward with just his knee.

"But the soaps!"

"Yes and the candles and the olive oils and the pies and the goat milk." Levi lists off some random things you'll probably want next time you come. "I mean, we have to get through all this first."

"The pies." You frown at what you missed, but there really is a lot of food.

You get to the car and load everything in, settling into the passenger seat for the ride home.

"How about we bake our own pie with the stuff we have? We can always come next week." He says, taking your hand in his. You usually only came once a month during the season since you always bought so much, but there were exceptions. Besides, there were things he'd forgotten about, too.

You look at the sunflowers you're holding in front of you. It's been a lovely outdoor morning with the man who holds your heart. "What kind of pie?" Everyday with him was a good day.

He looks over and smiles, bringing your hand to his lips. "Anything you want, angel. But first, we nap."

You look back and return his smile, wondering if Levi knows how happy he makes you, and hoping you do the same for him.

Silently, he's thinking the same about you.

an- In honor of my favorite outdoor market that just opened for the season! I'll mention again that domestic fluff with Levi in everyday life is my favorite thing. And pairing him and reader with food haha.

[empress-simps]

Strangers (seven)

▪︎Pairings: Kuroo Tetsuroo x Reader, Bokuto Koutaro x Reader, Bokuto Koutaro x Akaashi Keiji and Kageyama Tobio x Hinata Shoyo

▪︎Prounouns: She/Her [Fem!Reader]

▪︎Genre: Angst

▪︎Warnings: Some typos and grammatical errors

▪︎Synopsis: Finding out your soulmate rejected the bond to be with someone else feels terrible.

Note: This by far I think is the LONGEST chapter I wrote, the chapter ahead contains Kuroo's backstory and who his soulmate is👀 I know some of y'all are curious on who it is. I hope this vhapter isn't confusing since we're going to jump from Kuroo's memory to another. I hope this makes it up for the long awaited update!

》 next

》 previous

》 Strangers Masterlist

Kuroo didn't believe in love. Not after what happened between him and his soulmate did.

He can still feel the heartbreak, betrayal, anger and confusion that was in his chest when he'd found out she left him.

He remembers the days where Kenma would get annoyed at him for yammering about his soulmate, how excited and elated he was.

Kuroo felt special. Considering He's the only one who has a soulmate mark in his group of friends, he would proudly show off the ever forming mark.

On one uneventful weekend evening, he made kenma sleep over at his house for the purpose of 'getting to hang out more'

"Huh.." Kenma briefly glanced at the the clock, "It's already midnight.." He mumbles, continuing to play with his game as Kuroo buzzed around the room, seemingly not running out of energy while copying the spiker's pose in one of the recorded volleyball matches that was playing in the tv.

Kenma groaned, "Can you stop that? I already lost in the game.. you're making my head hurt." Kuroo rolled his eyes at his bestfriend who was in the the corner of his bed.

"It's not my fault you're just not good at it. Besides, okaa-san baked you an apple pie! So you don't have a reason to be grumpy." Kuroo huffed, sitting down besides his introverted friend.

"I only came for apple pie..."

Kenma mumbled while Kuroo snorted, "You don't think I didn't know that?" The younger boy shrugged, just as he was about to restart the game a loud gasp emitted from Kuroo.

"Did fhe mark became readable..?" Kenma mumbled as he peeked at his bestfriend's wrist.

Kuroo felt like he was on cloud nine. His eyes glimmered and his heart thumped loudly in his chest, he feels like nothing could bring him down. His thoughts ran with endless scenarios thay he formulated on his head. Kenma, who noticed his friend who's off in his own world stared at the name with curiousity (that would soon turn to anger).

Yamaka Mika.

Kuroo sighed, a lovestruck expression on his face as he gingerly traced the mark on his arm. "Don't make that face, it's weird." Kenma said as he 'bonked' Kuroo's head with a controller.

He believed that she's the one who he's going to be with until they grow old. Not once did a thought of him getting rejected passed by his mind.

He also hadn't thought that his soulmate would fall for someone else.

"U-uh Kuroo.." Yamaka mumbled, eyes downcast to the ground. Kuroo hummed, "I told you to call me tetsu-"

"I don't think this will work out."

Kuroo felt his world stop as he could only look at his soulmate with disbelief. "What do you mean...? I-i thought we-"

Mika sighed, "I tried Kuroo.. I tried to love you. I decided to give it a shot since we're soulmates. We're suppose to love each other after all, but I just—cant."

It felt like all of the weight of the world came crashing down on his shoulders as he could only utter out one word.

"Who?"

Mika gulped as she stared into her soulmate who's slowly falling apart.

"Daishou."

After the messy break up, Kuroo decided to keep his heart locked. He doesn't want anyone to enter just to break it again.

Then he met you.

Even though he desperately tries to put his walls higher, it all came tumbling down, and before he knew it, he found out that you could melt away the ice surrounding his heart easily.

At first, Kenma was hesitant. He knew how his bestfriend crumbled at the betrayal and rejection that happened a few years ago. He knew how Kuroo fell apart and how he struggled to pick himself back up.

He doesn't want the same thing happening again.

Kenma disliked you at first, he thought that you'll break Kuroo's heart again even if you don't mean it. But then, he saw how much you both meant to each other. Even if you still don't realize it.

You both healed each other's wounds.

Taglist [Closed]: @decaffeinatedtealover @lulu-102 @whateverfeelz @ginsan-eyes @pluviophilefangirl @bakuhoesbro @aonenthusiast @amecchii @jadasz @random-734 @sleep3deprived @snflwrkenma @archishaya @kissungjae @sakusasimpbot @its-the-aerieljeane @dimsumhomie @jessie9008 @crapimahuman @outflannel @ysatrap @denkibutinsteadofpikachuitspichu @johnnysactualgf @just-a-saltine @nekomavsnohebi @acsycharm @sazunari @baby-jichu @felixsamour

[calif0rnia-lovers]

sweet as pie.

a/n: please join me in welcoming sam wilson to the page. first story dedicated to this classic man, surely not the last.

pairing: sam wilson x black!reader

rating: 💙

main masterlist | taglist | divider © @whimsicalrogers

sum: sam is home. although times have changed, his sister’s intentions for him have not. sarah would love for her brother to settle down, and she knows the perfect person to make him do it. but when sam gets caught up with work, he misses the date sarah has set up for him.

words: 2.3K

It’s funny how the human mind works.

How easily certain moments can slip through its cracks. Names, dates, songs, conversations, faces lost to the wind, never to be remembered again. In the same turn, how those same things can be retained, recited down to the last detail in perfection.

Sam Wilson has seen enough in his lifetime--more than most men. No one could condemn him for forgetting the smallest of details from time to time. Sometimes he does. He is human. But, strangely, he can never forget a single detail when it comes to you.

Sam can still remember the first time he saw you.

The coffee-colored, cardboard box you carried in your arms--'living room' written across the front panel in your mother’s flawless penmanship. The dark curls pineappled to rest atop the crown of your head--a last-ditch attempt of fighting the Louisiana heat. The oversized Purple Rain t-shirt faded from too many runs through the wash. The round, black sunglasses sliding down the brim of your nose as you paused to take note of the boy watching you from his front window. Down to the scuffed, worn high tops that could barely pass for white.

He even remembers the soft smile you gave him once he froze--too embarrassed to move from the window after being caught watching you for the third time--before turning to lug the box up the steps of your front porch.

It was the summer of ‘94, and Sam Wilson was running late. He was expected to be at the docks assisting his father. Instead, he was peeping around his mother’s powder blue curtains, attempting to score glimpses of his new neighbors. Primarily their teenage daughter.

It’s not every day that Delacroix welcomes a new resident--let alone an entire family. Later that night, over dinner, his mother shared that you were entering your senior year--same as him.

He still remembers the knotting of his stomach. The strange and unusual experience of being tongue-tied when he’d tripped over his name--his name for god’s sake--that morning, you opened your front door to find him and Sarah on the other side. The kindness of your dark brown eyes as they met his, the soft giggle you released as you ignored his sputtering to accept the chocolate chip cookies his mother sent her children to deliver.

He also remembers the vision of you in your wedding dress. The smile he had to keep plastered on his face the night he learned his skepticism, surrounding death by broken heart, faded. You’ve never felt pain until you’ve seen the woman you love marry another man.

Sam must admit. When he returned, he expected--hoped--that those feelings would have disappeared. That they would have been erased from his life. Only, the moment he returned home, Sam discovered those feelings remained--were stronger even.

Five years later, he found you in the same house. Your parents no lived there. After their return from the blip, they packed up their things. Suddenly, tackling their bucket list was their main priority. You still had your husband’s last name but no husband. He was gone, lost to a younger woman.

Five years later, and Sam Wilson finds himself still frozen by the sight of you.

The long-sleeved maroon shirt he’s tugged on is not his number one choice. It’s all he had in his bag. The time on his watch had forced him into an ultimatum. Either run home, shower, and change into the outfit Sarah helped him pick out and risk being five hours late. Or head straight to your house, and risk being four hours and forty-five minutes late.

Sam opted for the latter.

Flowers in hand, he stands in the gateway of your backyard. His eyes admire the glow of the string lights against your skin. The yard has been transformed. Several tables and chairs, enough to host the entire neighborhood, squeezed into its space. Filled with music and laughter a few hours before the backyard is now quiet. Only the sounds of crickets, and the rustle of the trash bag in your hand, can be heard over the racing of Sam’s heart.

“Hey.” Sam takes a step forward, clearing his throat. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Late is an understatement.” You don’t bother looking up from the plates stacked in your hands. Dumping them into the black trash bag, you move towards the next table. “You missed the entire party.”

After dumping the trash, you realize that Sam is no longer in the backyard. You find him in the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” You ask, coming to a stop in the doorway.

Sam glances up from the soap-covered glass in his hands. “Helping you clean up.”

You glance around the kitchen, only to find that he’s managed to wash nearly the entire stack of dishes you’ve been dreading the entire night.

“I didn’t realize you still did stuff like this,” you tease. “What with you running off to save the world. Figured you’d just hire someone to do it for you.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I got you to keep me humble,” he winks.

Sam dries his hands with the bumblebee printed hand towel, a satisfied grin on his lips as he takes in the spotless kitchen. He’s too busy admiring his handiwork to realize you’re standing alongside him.

He turns, the snarky comment he’s prepared lost in his throat as he takes you in.

You can’t deny him a smile as you watch his eyes widen, a boyish grin brightening his face as he takes in the plate you’re holding. On it rests a single slice of homemade apple pie, topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and perfectly drizzled caramel.

“I think you’ve earned this.”

“You saved me a piece?”

“No,” you sigh, allowing your eyes to roll. “I actually saved it for me. But if I have to look at your pathetic attempt at puppy dog eyes one more second--”

“You were hoping I’d show up.” The grin on Sam’s face has morphed into a trademark smirk, the sight pulling a giggle from your lips. “You and I both know you don’t save, or share your pie with just anyone.”

Sam’s observation is spot on.

You don’t share your pie--or food, for that matter--with just anyone. In the chaos of hosting the neighborhood, you didn’t have a moment to stop and enjoy your own party. Let alone a slice of the apple pies you’d spent the previous night preparing.

Apple pies--specifically yours--were Sam Wilson’s true weakness.

The moment he sees you lugging home a bag full of granny smith and macintosh apples, he’s on full helicopter mode. You’re not sure how he knows, but he’s got a radar. One that somehow allows him to prophesize the exact moment the pies are out of the oven and set aside to cool.

He’ll show up, stopping by to say hi, or to see if you still need the drainpipe your ex-husband never got around to working on fixed, or to “pass along a message” from Sarah--as though your best friend couldn’t pick up the phone and call. Whatever the excuse Sam Wilson always manages to be the one to get the first slice of your apple pie. He’s smart enough to know that once the children of the neighborhood catch a whiff, they’ll show up on your doorstep. And as much as he loves the kids--Sam isn’t letting them steal his pie.

Sam’s words come out muffled through a mouthful of apples and crust. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, Y/N. You should sell these. You'd make a killing.”

“And I’ve already told you, it’s just for fun,” you dismiss his advice, taking another spoonful of ice cream. “Besides, what do you expect me to do? Quit my good paying--although painstakingly boring--job in the hopes that enough people will like my baking to keep me afloat?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Sam nods, a smile growing as he watches your eyes roll.

It’s a conversation the two of you have had for years. Here is the rundown of how it plays out--every single time.

Sam: suggests that you finally open up the bakery you’ve been talking about since your teenage years.

You: dismiss his words of advice, reminding Sam that most teenage dreams are foolish.

Sam: ends the conversation with, “I’d show up every day for a piece.”

You: spend the rest of the night wondering if he’s right, about taking the chance, only to psych yourself out before going to bed.

“I’m just saying,” Sam sighs, sliding the plate to the side. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned. Life is going to pass you by, regardless, no matter what you do. If you give it a shot, and it fails--which is never going to happen--your life isn’t going to end.”

You glance up from the table, a tiny smile on your lips as you take in his soft smile.

“Maybe you’re right,” you shrug. “If all else fails, I’ll just tell everyone it’s the Falcon’s favorite pie--”

“You’ll have people flooding in from across the country.”

“It’s settled,” you giggle. “I’m using you in my business model.”

“Hey,” Sam chuckles. “As long as I get a cut, I’m not complaining.”

A silence falls over the tiny kitchen as your gaze drops from his.

Sam lightly raps his knuckles against the table before pushing his chair back.

“Uh—I should probably head out. You’re probably tired. I just wanted to come by and apologize...again.”

“Wow,” the light laugh you release halts Sam’s act of standing up. “The second you get what you came for you hit the ground running?”

The response is automatic. The chance to tease him is one you never pass up.

Sam’s brow raises as he takes in your smile.

“That’s not what I came for,” he admits.

“What did you come for then?”

“To ask you over to my place for breakfast tomorrow.”

The proposition hangs in the air, Sam nearly squirming in his seat as you take your time studying his gaze. You let out a sigh, your shoulders shrugging lightly, once you finally speak.

“I don’t know, Sam” You shake your head. Picking up the plate, you stand and cross the kitchen to the sink. “You just have so many responsibilities, nowadays, running around trying to save the world--”

“I’m not going anywhere tonight,” he’s quick with the reassurance. “Or any day, until we get through that date you promised me.”

You turn to face him, arms crossing over your chest as he comes to a stop before you.

“Say I show up. You have to promise me something.”

“Whatever you want.”

He knows that promise can end up being a slippery slope, depending on how hard you’re willing to make him work for it.

“If something comes up, in the future, you call me. And you tell me exactly why you can’t be here. Nobody gets to stand me up. Not the Falcon. And sure as hell, not Sam Wilson. Understood?”

Sam’s eyes drop to your interlaced fingers, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Standing on your toes, you place a kiss against his cheek. “Now, go get some sleep. You’re making me breakfast in the morning. I’m expecting waffles, bacon, freshly squeezed O.J.--the works.”

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[kookicat]

The Macaron Job 

I'm a damned idiot, Eliot thinks and scowls at the sheeting rain outside the kitchen window. It's a horrible damp day, the sort that turns his hair into a curly mess that defies even the hottest flat iron, and he's making macarons. They're never going to dry, he thinks and pokes the closest one with a clean fingertip, scowl deepening as the mix sticks to his skin. 

It wasn't like there were a million other, more rainy day compatible things he could have made. Like brown butter and oatmeal cookies. Or madeleines. Or lemon and poppy seed muffins, with a lemon glaze, sweet and sharp. Or an apple pie, rich and golden and spiked with cinnamon. Or even sugar cookies. 

But Parker had asked for French macarons, and he's never been able to say no to the women, especially when Sophie gets in on the act. So he's stuck in the kitchen, babysitting a sheet pan of macarons that are stubbornly refusing to form any sort of skin. They're never going to work, he thinks and sighs, pulling out the ingredients to make a batch of sugar cookies, just in case, letting his hands fall into the familiar actions while his mind wanders, pondering what else he wants to add to his newly established kitchen garden. 

It's another part of himself that he's reclaimed, once he'd committed to the team, and it had taken him a while to get comfortable with his hands in the dirt again, but damn, it was nice to replace the old blood on his hands with warm, fragrant soil, capable of giving life rather than taking it. Parker had caught on first, bugging him with questions about what the plants did until he got his first harvest of peas and squash and carrots and tomatoes, turning them into something they could eat, remembering exactly how at peace he'd felt, sitting down at the table to eat a meal he'd produced in more ways than one. 

He glances at the tray of macarons again, feeling irritation niggle at him when they still aren't set. The sugar cookie dough forms a neat ball under his hands and he shapes it into a log, wrapping it in plastic and slipping it in the fridge to chill, trying to ignore the urge to glare at the macarons. Like that'll make them set faster, he thinks and has to laugh at himself, just a little. Truth be told, there's not many other places he'd rather be on a rainy day than his kitchen, even if he is stuck with the least rainy day friendly bake ever. 

Quiet footsteps head towards the kitchen and he keeps his back to the door, deliberately, ignoring the prickle between his shoulders that he still can't quite shake. He trusts them with his life and his soul and his sanity, but bone deep instincts aren't so easy to turn off. "They're not done yet," he says when the steps transfer from wood to the tile floor in the kitchen, knowing as good as he was, he wouldn't have heard her if she didn't want him to, because the woman was like a damn cat, all liquid grace and soft steps. 

"They didn't take this long last time," she complains, boosting herself onto the counter and reaching around him to steal a crumb of sugar cookie dough from the big copper mixing bowl. 

Eliot tucks a curly strand of hair behind his ear and glances at the window, where the rain has become even worse, pouring down in a way that makes him wonder idly if they need to start building an arc. Hardison would hate that, he thinks, all those animals to manage and manages not to grin too widely. "Last time it wasn't pouring with rain," he says, and lifts an eyebrow at her when she frowns. 

She sneaks another scrap of cookie dough, chewing thoughtfully. "That makes a difference?" 

"Sure." He crosses his arms, resisting the urge to poke the damned macarons again, and leans back against the cabinet. "It's baking, Parker. Everything makes a difference." There's a thread of wry, amused annoyance in his voice. Sometimes the strict measurements, the recipes that have to be followed to the letter, the exacting nature of baking are exactly what he needs, letting him lose himself in the details, pushing back the memories for just a little while longer. It's almost like meditation, steps he knows like the notes of an old, familiar song. And sometimes, he wants the opposite, wants to grab ingredients by instinct to create something entirely new, something fresh and exciting and his in a way that baking never quite captures. 

"How do you know when they're ready?" she leans over, bumping shoulders with him, close enough that her hair brushes his cheek, nibbling on the last scrap of dough. 

"You're going to get a stomach ache," he mutters absently, tapping the closest macaron round with his pointer finger. "They're ready for baking when they don't stick to your fingers." 

It doesn't, to his surprise, and he lifts the tray, sliding it into the pre-heated oven. There's dark chocolate ganache chilling in the fridge and he pulls the bowl out, setting it on the counter to warm, pretending not to see Parker steal a spoonful as he turns away to stack the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. He turns back and has to smother a grin, because she has chocolate on her cheek and an overly innocent expression on her face. 

"Is that nice?" he asks, biting the inside of his lip to keep a straight face. 

She blinks at him, idly swinging her legs, taking care not to thump her boots into the cupboard door. "I don't know what you mean!" she says and he laughs, tossing a dish towel at her. 

"You have ganache on your face," he says and she swipes it away. 

The timer beeps and he silences it, turning the sheet pan around in the oven so everything bakes evenly. He grabs a piping bag and gives the ganache a stir, handing the spoon to Parker while he fills the bag. The kitchen smells safe, like good vanilla and sugar and chocolate and combined with the pouring rain it's making him feel relaxed, tranquil, almost sleepy in a way that's rare for him. He leans against the counter again, letting the comfortable silence stretch its legs, half an eye on the window, watching the water run down the glass. 

"You could have said no, you know," Parker says suddenly, softly and he grunts as he ponders his answer. 

"I know," he starts, and shrugs. "I didn't want to say no." 

"Oh," she says, frowning like she's missed something and normally, he wouldn't have the words to explain it to her, but it's different somehow, in the warm kitchen and he shifts his weight a little, glancing at the timer before he starts talking. 

"I wanted to," he shrugs, "For a long time, all I did was destroy stuff. People, mostly." The words sting more than he expects coming out and he pauses, clearing his throat, taking the time to figure out what he wants to say next. "I was finding my way back from that when we did that first job, but I still had a ways to go. Creating rather than destroying helps." The words are sticking in his brain and he scratches his jaw, meeting her eyes, seeing understanding there, feeling the echo of another conversation like this. "You never expect me to give more than I can." He lifts a hand, gestures vaguely at the kitchen. "This, I can give. So, yes, I could have said no, but I didn't want to." The corner of his mouth quirks up in a wry smile. "Even if you did ask for macarons on the worst possible day to make them." 

"You like them too," she protests, knowing that she's not the only one in the room with a sweet tooth. Eliot just hides his better, but she's never seen him turn down a donut yet. 

"I do," he agrees easily and shoves his hair back again. The humidity means it wants to fall in his face and his last two hair ties had mysteriously vanished. I'd order more, if I didn't think a quick sweep of the brew pub would turn up a dozen, he thinks. With three of them using them, the damn things seem to grow legs. 

"Here," Parker says and offers him a hair tie. 

He takes it, pretty sure it had started out life as one of his to begin with and puts his hair up, washing his hands just as the timer starts to beep. He turns off the tap and dries his hands as Parker silences the alarm, grabbing a dry dish towel before he pulls the sheet pan out of the oven. 

They're not his best batch ever - some are more oval than round, and he's enough of a perfectionist to find that annoying, but they smell great and he sets the sheet pan down on the cooling rack. 

"How soon can we eat them?" Parker asks and he swats her hand away as she reaches for one. 

"They're hot," he says absently, before he remembers that he's talking to Parker and she seems to spend a quarter of her life in places where anyone else would find the heat unbearable. "Let them cool, or they'll break when you move them," he adds. "It shouldn't take long." 

The kitchen is cool and he knows from experience that the macarons will be cold enough to handle pretty quickly. He just needs to distract Parker until that point. 

"There's sugar cookie dough in the fridge. We can shape those while these cool," he suggests and she brightens. 

"Can we make dinosaurs?" she asks, seeming to bounce on the spot without actually moving. 

"No," he says, because sugar cookies should be round and he's pretty sure the dinosaur cutters found a new home, far away from his kitchen. 

She frowns. "Animals then." 

He pulls the dough out of the fridge and sets it next to the ganache while he preps another sheet pan. "No," he says, because he's fairly sure the animal cutters went to live on the same farm as the dinosaurs. "Rounds are fine."

"You're no fun," she grumps and frowns at him, seeing the quirk in his lip that means he's secretly amused and not buying her act at all. 

"I made you two types of cookie," he protests, and reaches into the cupboard on the wall, pulling out a new blend of sprinkles. They're less lurid than her usual pick, but they're also dyed with natural extracts and not chemicals he can't pronounce and so he figures it's a decent trade off. 

"Ooh, sprinkles!" Parker says, grinning at him. "Sprinkles are fun." 

He cuts the log of cookie dough into neat, even slices and arranges them on the tray, reaching over to turn the oven up, wondering what to defrost for dinner. It's just him and Parker, for a change, because Nate and Sophie have a table booked at a fancy new restaurant and Hardison is at some game thing with his friends. Eliot doesn't rate the new restaurant - the menu is overly complicated, and he knows enough about Hardison's game nights to know he'll come home stuffed with enough cheap pizza, orange soda and gummy frogs to fuel a small army for a week. Parker would be quite happy with a bowl of whatever luridly coloured cereal she'd latched onto for the week, but Eliot is craving something rich and warming and comforting, because the weather shows no sign of improving. There's a ragu sauce in the freezer and he pulls it out, setting it aside to defrost, knowing there's fresh pasta in the fridge and homemade dinner rolls in the bread bin. 

Parker is rifling in the drawer next to her knees and pulls out a star shaped cutter. "Stars?" she says and waves it at him. 

"Fine," he says, and rolls his eyes. "Make half of them stars." 

She hops down and crosses to the sink to wash her hands, humming happily as she desecrates half of his perfectly round cookies. He sighs and presses the scraps together, wrapping them in plastic and dumping them in the fridge for later. The cookies will be a little tough, but that's nothing a glass of milk can't solve. 

The oven beeps to let him know it's reached temp, and he slides the cookie pan in, checking the macarons and finding them nicely cool. "You wanna fill these?" he asks as he gathers the stuff he needs for a simple glaze for the sugar cookies. "Just don't eat all of them," he warns as she takes the piping bag from his hands. 

It's the sort of kitchen task she's good at, hands that can crack a safe in seconds graceful as she works the piping bag. Piping makes his hands and wrists ache - he's broken too much stuff for there not to be consequences- so he's glad she took to it so readily. 

They work in comfortable silence as he sets the ragu sauce in a pan over a low flame to defrost and adds pasta to a second pan- fettuccine, not the one of the random bags of shaped pasta that keep appearing in his kitchen. He'd opened the cupboard and found pasta pandas a few weeks ago and wondered seriously if he'd taken one too many blows to the skull before Hardison claimed them. 

The glaze for the cookies comes together easily under his hands and he pours it into another piping bag to keep it from setting while they wait for the cookies to bake. There's lemon juice in it, to offset the sweetness of the cookies and for some reason, the combination reminds him of the team, all distinctive parts that come together to be better than they ever could be alone. 

He has nothing else to do for the moment and so turns to watch Parker as she finishes off the last few macarons, piping a neat dot of ganache on one before adding a second on top. There's a new smear of chocolate over her top lip and he reckons more than one has made its way into her stomach. 

There's an odd macaron left and she offers it to him. "They're really good," she says, around the bite in her mouth. "Is there a secret ingredient? What is it?" 

Love, he thinks and takes the macaron, knowing he's smiling again. "Now that would be telling," he says instead. 

[jaskierrrrrr]

Have I not written anything in basically a year because of my crippling fear of failure? Yes.

Did I also write this the night before my final exam and upload it at 11.30pm? Also yes!

Bad decisions aside, I really hope you enjoy this!

***

(2.5k, canon typical violence, bodyswapping and SFW shenanigans)

***

The mid morning sunlight finally roused Geralt from his sleep, which was the first sign that something was very, very wrong. Normally he started awake, just before dawn and had plenty of time to pack up the camp before Jaskier even considered opening his eyes.

The second sign was his own body lying motionless next to him.

It took Geralt several seconds longer than he’d ever admit to to accept that he wasn’t some spirit looking down at himself from beyond the grave. For starters, he could see his chest rising and falling. He also felt starving, which didn’t seem like something you’d have to deal with after dying.

Still processing his initial shock, he was just debating whether to wake himself up or not when his hair fell into his eyes. He brushed it away impatiently and then started, looking down at his hands. Where had expected to see grimy, scarred fingers, he instead saw soft skin, calloused fingernails and ostentatious rings, which could only mean-

He fell backwards, reaching behind him to grab his sword, before realising it was on the other side of his motionless body. Still in denial, he stumbled towards himself and picked up his sword. It felt unnaturally heavy, and looking at the reflection in the blade confirmed his worst fears.

He was Jaskier. Or rather, in Jaskier’s body. Which suggested that Jaskier was in his.

Turning round just in time to see his own body- Jaskier- finally stirring, he braced himself for what would most likely be an incredibly dramatic reaction. For once, he would class it as appropriate- Melitele knows he’s screaming internally. It’s bad enough not being in your own body without also having swapped with the person you care about the most, who has no idea. There’s a great sense of vulnerability and a deep-set fear that somehow this will lead to Jaskier realising how he feels, but he tries to push it away and focus on the problem at hand.

His own eyes blinked sleepily up at him, before widening in surprise.

Oh what the fuck,’ Jaskier exclaimed, hauling himself off his bedroll and circling Geralt, tripping over his feet in the process. ‘Why didn’t you tell me my doublet didn’t match my shirt?’

‘You- what? That’s the first thing you say?’ Geralt asked, Jaskier’s nonplussed attitude momentarily distracting him from the current clusterfuck of a situation.

‘Well yeah,’ Jaskier huffed, placing his hands on his hips in a manner that looked so bizarre under his armour that Geralt felt the uncontrollable urge to laugh. ‘I have a reputation to uphold.’

‘It doesn’t matter anyway,’ Geralt muttered, turning away from Jaskier. His brain was starting to hurt. ‘You look fine.’

Jaskier cleared his throat. When Geralt turned back, his face was stretched into a grin.

‘Don’t you mean- you look fine? After all, you’re wearing it.’

Jaskier had a point. Not that Geralt would ever admit it.

‘Whatever, Jaskier. Let’s just find someone who can fix this.’ He reached for his sword, before remembering he no longer had it, and wouldn’t be able to carry it if he did.

Jaskier clapped his hands together. ‘Gods, this is going to be fun.’

***

“Okay, I’ll be the first to admit that this is decidedly not fun,” Jaskier muttered, the medallion around his neck bouncing as they made their way up a steep hill. The sun was now low in the sky and once again Geralt found himself irritated at the amount of fabric he was currently baking under. Why did all of Jaskier’s clothes have to have so many frills?

“The novelty’s worn off then?” Geralt added dryly. They’d been walking for about two hours before they’d come across the first town- there was no mage, but fortunately they found a place for Roach at a local stables. She’d found the entire body swapping incident incredibly disconcerting (she wasn’t the only one), and had refused to let either of them ride her, even when enticed with apples.

At first, Jaskier had kept up a steady stream of his usual chatter, albeit in a much gruffer tone than usual, but he had fallen silent as it got later in the day.

‘I just don’t understand why it’s so loud? I feel like I’m back at Oxenfurt, there’s just so much noise.”

“It’s from the Trials, remember? Enhanced hearing has saved my life- and yours- countless times,” Geralt replies, not without a twinge of sympathy. He remembers how chaotic and confusing it had first felt as a child.

Jaskier grimaced. ‘Right, right,’ he mumbled, before jerking his head back towards Geralt with a look of horror on his face. ‘Is this what I sound like to you? Gods, I had no idea- my prattling is bad enough without advanced hearing-”

“Jaskier,” Geralt interrupted, “your voice doesn’t grate- it’s fine.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe it did at first, but I’ve gotten used to it.”

“So what I’m hearing…” Jaskier said slowly, “is that you like my voice?”

Geralt scoffed. “Don’t push your luck,” he muttered, although he couldn’t quite hide his smile.

“I knew it!” Jaskier crowed triumphantly. “So much for fillingless pie.”

“I said talking was fine- I didn’t say anything about your singing.”

Jaskier’s mouth fell open in outrage. “You- you absolute brute, Geralt of Rivia! Mark my words, one of these days I’ll, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” Geralt asked teasingly, looking away to hide his laugh. “Splutter at me?”

Jaskier didn’t reply. He’d come to a complete halt and was staring at the trees, a frown on his face. Without warning, he drew his sword. Geralt had just enough time to wonder if joking about Jaskier’s singing was going to be the thing that killed him, when something huge burst out of the foliage. He whipped his head, following the flash of silver as his sword flew elegantly and almost lazily in an arc from Jaskier’s hand and buried itself in the side of the creature, which collapsed in the dust.

Geralt turned to stare at Jaskier in amazement. “How the hell did you do that?”

“I don't know,” Jaskier muttered, eyes still fixed on the creature. “I guess I’ve got your fighting skills too.”

As he bent to withdraw the sword from the creature’s side, Geralt noticed Jaskier’s hands were shaking.

Geralt knew how he was feeling. He’d felt sick to his stomach the first time he’d killed something. He hesitantly reached out a hand and placed it on Jaskier’s armour. He could feel him trembling.

“You did the right thing,” Geralt said gently. “It’s not easy, but you did it.”

Jaskier’s eyes finally moved from the corpse, and he gave Geralt a brief smile.

“You think so?”

“I do.”

***

They walked in companionable silence after that, occasionally bashing into each other when Jaskier forgot how wide his shoulders were. They reached the next town at dusk. After a few brief enquiries, it was apparent that there was no mage.

“I guess we’ll have to accept defeat for the night,” Jaskier sighed. “Even I’m feeling tired, so you must feel exhausted. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

He was right on both counts. Geralt’s feet have ached since midday, and he’d even tripped a couple of times. Maybe Jaskier constantly falling over was more due to tiredness rather than not paying attention.

“We can find a place to camp for the night in those woods over there,” he suggests. “Figure out where we’ll head next in the morning.”

“Why don’t we just ask for a room at that tavern over there? I could do with a hot meal.”

Geralt hesitated. After the day they’d had, he could definitely use a drink, but they’d been lucky to travel so far without drawing too much attention to themselves.

Jaskier must have noticed his reluctance.

“It’ll be fine,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “Besides,” he added, swinging open the door, “we’re in the middle of nowhere, there’s no way anyone will recognise us.”

As he opened the door with a flourish, the entire tavern fell silent, their eyes fixed on the two newcomers standing frozen in the doorway.

“What were you saying?” Geralt hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

Jaskier was saved from answering by the innkeeper bustling over to them with a wide smile on his face.

“Geralt of Rivia and the bard Jaskier! It is an honour to welcome you here. Will you be in need of a place to stay tonight?"

They both nodded.

The innkeeper clapped his hands. “Excellent! We’ll have a room ready momentarily. Sir Witcher, we have a table free over there- and will you be performing tonight, noble bard?”

“Well, I-” Jaskier began, before noticing the confused look on the innkeeper’s face. “Oh, well… I’m sure my companion would be delighted!”

Geralt barely managed to restrain the torrent of curses on his lips before nodding tightly. He was going to kill Jaskier.

“Wonderful,” beamed the innkeeper. “The stage is over there whenever you’re ready,” he added, before returning to the counter. Geralt slowly turned to look at Jaskier.

“What? Oh, don’t look at me like that, what was I meant to say?”

“You were meant,” Geralt growled lowly, “to say no. I thought that was fairly obvious.”

“Look, it’s too late to back out now. You’ll be fine! If I got witchery skills, you must have bardic skills, it’s only fair.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt groaned in despair, “how many curses have you known to be fair?”

Jaskier started to laugh. Geralt turned away.

“Oh yes, laugh all you want. It’s my reputation at stake.” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier looked at him with an odd expression on his face. “Geralt, it’s my reputation, remember?” He takes Geralt’s hand and squeezes. “I promise it’ll be okay,” he said softly. “And if it isn’t, I’ll start a distraction. I’m great at that.”

Geralt snorted in acknowledgement. He pulled the lute off his back, and let adrenalin carry him over to the stage. As he settled in the chair, the patrons fell quiet once again. He catches sight of Jaskier, who’s drinking a tankard of what looks like Cintran ale. Lucky bastard. He caught Geralt’s eye and raised his tankard in a silent salute. Geralt inhaled deeply, praying to Melitele not to fuck up. Closing his eyes, he began to play.

Somehow, thank the Gods, Jaskier was right. His fingers are flew over the fretboard to the familiar tune of Toss a Coin. He doesn’t understand, but he isn’t going to question it. He’ll play a few songs to keep the audience happy, and then make his excuses.

He’s about four songs in when he finally gets the courage to open his eyes. Everyone seems to be enjoying the performance, but there’s only one opinion he really wants. Jaskier is leaning forward in his chair, his ale forgotten as he listens to the music, swaying gently in time. He has a soft smile on his face, but there’s something odd about his features. Geralt’s seen his own reflection far less than he’s seen Jaskier’s face, but he knows something’s different.

He’s lamenting his poor eyesight and squinting from the stage to try and see more clearly when the truth hits him.

It’s his eyes. Even in the well-lit tavern, his pupils are blown wide so his irises are barely visible. Which normally only happens in the dark, or-

His fingers briefly slipped on the strings. He blinks to recover, his mind reeling. The only other time his eyes are that wide are when he’s looking at Jaskier. But, if Jaskier’s looking at him, then that means-

There’s a sudden, unpleasant tug in his navel. His stomach flips, but before he has time to cry out, the sensation has gone. Realising his arms are empty, he opens his eyes.

He’s across the room, looking at Jaskier on stage. Relief floods through him. He’s back in his own body, and more importantly, he never has to sing again.

Jaskier catches his eye and waggles his eyebrows. “Told you it would be fine,” he mouths over his strumming.

Jaskier finishes with a flourish after another two songs. To Geralt’s annoyance, he gives in to demands for an encore. Geralt taps his foot impatiently. He’s desperate to be alone, to get the chance to talk to Jaskier. Finally, finally, Jaskier strums his final note and bows deeply, before jumping off the stage and sauntering towards Geralt, who meets him halfway.

Jaskier grins at him, face flushed. “Guess we don’t need a mage! Strange, I wonder what made us switch back.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replies, as they make their way up the stairs.

“Oh, well someone’s definitely back to normal!” Jaskier laughs. “Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy yourself up there by the way, I could tell.”

They find their room at the end of the corridor. It’s a simple room, but there’s a fire in the grate that gives it a homely feel. Geralt finally finds the courage to talk when he’s interrupted again.

“You gave a fine performance, you know,” Jaskier said brightly as he set his lute on the table by the door. “I mean, starting with my best song was an interesting choice- I usually save it for the end, but you pulled it off. Could work on your stage presence a bit too, but I suppose that was to be expected, given the circumstances.”

He paused for breath, grinning at Geralt. Realizing this was his only chance, Geralt didn't pause to think, just crossed the room in two strides before pushing Jaskier up against the door and kissing him.

Jaskier let out a startled breath before responding in kind, gripping Geralt’s waist and pulling him in close.

When they broke apart, Jaskier smiled widely. “What brought this on?” he asks, before frowning suddenly. “Wait, if I had ale in your body, does that mean you’re drunk? Is that why-”

“I’m not drunk,” Geralt reassured him. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, I just… didn’t know if you felt the same until I saw how wide your- my- pupils were during the performance.

Jaskier scowled. “That’s not fair,” he mumbled into Geralt’s shirt. “I had all your witchery senses and I still couldn’t tell how you felt.”

“I just hide it better than you.”

“Now that I won’t argue with. Your face is like a block of granite, it’s impossible to tell what you’re thinking.”

“Know what I’m thinking now?” Geralt said in a low voice, leaning towards Jaskier, who blushed a deep shade of red.

“I have an idea,” he mumbled.

“I’m thinking,” Geralt continued, leaning in even closer before grabbing a pillow and thwacking Jaskier over the head with it.

“I’m thinking,” he laughed over Jaskier’s splutters, “that you can sleep on the floor tonight for that!”

Ignoring Jaskier’s halfhearted protests, he pulled him towards the bed, where they collapsed in a heap.

“I’ll get you back for that,” Jaskier muttered from where he was sprawled against Geralt’s chest.

“Oh?” Geralt laughed. “And when should I expect my comeuppance?”

“Not now,” Jaskier replied. “After all, we have all the time in the world.”

Geralt grinned, before pulling him into a soft kiss. “That we do,” he replies. “That we do.”

[weasleydream]

siblings are the angels who lift you up when your wings forget to fly

Another idea i’ve struggled to write, but i really love it! do you think i should make it a series? we would see different moments of the triplets life, it’s something i would love to write!

As usual, feel free to like, comment, reblog and enjoy!

Masterlist 

(photo not mine) 

“There’s no way you’re coming with us Y/N, that’s all.”

For absolutely everyone, my triplets, Fred and George, were funny guys never afraid of anything. But Merlin, when it came to me… 

The atmosphere at the 12, Grimmauld Place had been really tense since the beginning of the day, when some members of the Order and our family had gathered to talk about the most important mission of all: bringing Harry safe and sound to the Burrow. The first plan had been simple and only involved Mad-Eye, but since the Ministry of Magic had been infiltrated by Death Eaters, we had to think of something else. That’s how Mundungus had come up with the idea of using Polyjuice Potion, which could work only if six people volunteered to enter Harry's skin. We had been seven to agree taking the risk, and when Mad-Eye had grumbled one of us would stay with Mum and Ginny at the Burrow (which Ginny didn’t like at all even though she hadn’t her word to say), Fred had claimed I would. 

Now, he, George and I were arguing because I didn’t want to stay on the sidelines.

“You know you don’t have to decide for me, right?”

“We just want you safe and sound, Y/N.” intervened George. “We know you can do this, but we would be worried and -”

“And you think I won’t be?” I interrupted him. Fred and George exchanged a look I couldn’t read, which annoyed me a bit more. They had always been like this, with this deep connexion I didn’t share with anyone. Don’t get me wrong; I was extremely close to them and we understood each other perfectly, but there was something unique between these two. “Practically all our family will be in danger, and you two will be out there without me and- and if anything happens, I don’t know what-”

“That’s exactly why you’re going to stay at home.” Fred put his hand on my shoulder. “If you’re not out there, nothing will happen to you and if, by the greatest of misfortunes, we die tragically, you’ll be there to carry our legacy. What do you think?” he added with a wink. 

“I think you’re a git. You’re both gits.” I mumbled before storming out. 

At this point, I knew arguing was useless: the plan was ready, and all of this was bigger than just my worries. But I just couldn’t picture myself waiting patiently on the couch while they were outside, threatened to be killed at every second, fearing the moment they would come back injured, and dreading the moment someone would tell me they were dead. I would have given anything to be able to go with them, even though risking my life to not fear for my family was selfish. 

I was downing the stairs as quietly as possible - even Filch hadn’t ever uttered insults as demeaning as the ones Sirius’ mother loved to throw to us - when shouts came to me. They seemed to come from a little room at the end of the corridor and I recognized Remus’ voice. I slowly approached the door. I didn’t want to eavesdrop, just to know if I could help, but what I heard made me stop. 

“You can’t go! I forbid you, you just can’t put yourself in danger!”

“But that’s my job, Remus!” It was Tonks, and her voice was high-pitched. I was sure her hair was currently bright red. “And the plan is ready, we can’t change it.”

“We can ask Y/N to take your place and-”

“And let her put herself in danger like this?” interrupted Tonks. “She’s too young!”

I groaned and decided to make my big entrance. 

“What’s happening?” I asked with my most innocent voice while opening the door. 

I met Remus’ eyes and mentally scolded myself. I used to reserve that voice for the professors when Fred, George and I were caught after a prank and I had forgotten for a second that Remus had heard it more than once. Now, he knew for sure I had heard everything. 

“Nothing!” replied quickly Tonks. “Nothing! Tell me Y/N, can you go and ask Molly if-”

“She’s pregnant.”

A long silence followed, during which Tonks was glaring at Remus who was looking at me with a determined look. And me, between the two, looking at them in turn with my mouth wide open, I was understanding why she couldn’t possibly participate in the mission. 

“Y/N, I’m begging you, you have to exchange places with her!” said Remus. 

“Of course.” I immediately agreed. “I’ll do it, yes, you can’t put your life and your baby’s in danger.” Another silence and I exclaimed. “I’ve almost forgotten! Congratulations!” 

But the couple didn’t seem in the mood of rejoicing and they were still tense. 

“Do you think Molly will agree?” finally asked Tonks.

“She won’t really have the choice.” I shrugged. 

“And Fred and George?”

“Don’t worry, they’ll understand.”

_ _ _

“Are you crazy? We told you no!”

How could I think they would be okay with that? 

I had joined Mum, Dad, Ginny, Fred and George in the kitchen. They were talking about how Aunt Muriel would be happy to see two members of the Order bursting in her place when I had innocently dropped the news. Ginny was glaring at me, Mum and Dad sharing worried glances, George rolling his eyes and Fred infuriated. 

“You do remember you have no right to forbid me anything, right?” I asked sarcastically. 

“She’s right, boys.” intervened Dad, which caused him to deal with some murderous looks. “She’s as adult as you both are.”

“Yes, I’m even older than you, George. Respect your elders.”

“Shut up, there’s only twenty minutes of difference between us!” replicated George. 

“That’s twenty minutes of constructive experiences more than you have.”

“Stop this!” interrupted Mum. “Stop now, or else I swear none of you will go out there. Y/N, whose place will you take?”

“And why?” added Fred. 

“Tonks is pregnant.”

Mum seemed torn between her concern for us and the happiness brought by the news of a baby’s arrival. 

“I understand…” muttered Dad. “That means you will protect someone else. Are you sure you will be okay? Maybe you can trade place with Fleur, I’m sure she will-”

“No, it’s okay! Bill wants to stay with her, I can’t separate them.”

Plus, I had understood during the meeting that Tonks would have been paired with Ron, and I was relieved to be able to stay with him. I knew my little brother had a true gift when it came to finding the problems, even more than Fred, George and I. And even though I loved all my siblings unconditionally, I had always had a soft spot for Ron. I was feeling like I had to be the one staying with him for this mission. 

“What’s happening here? I bet all London can feel the tension.”

Ron had opened the door but was staying on the doorstep, eyeing us all suspiciously. 

“Yes Y/N, what’s happening here?” asked Fred in a cranky way that was getting on my nerves. 

“Hope you still know how to fly on a broom, I won’t wait for you.” I winked and Ron smiled before frowning when George groaned. 

_ _ _ 

“Come on guys, you’re not going to ignore me forever!” I whined as Fred left the kitchen unceremoniously.

Mum shot a glance at me and turned her attention back to the pie she was baking. We were back at the Burrow and the house, even though it wasn’t particularly emptier than usual, was more silent. Something like a heavy tension seemed to be stifling all the sounds, and it made it even more obvious that my brothers were mad at me. If George was just a bit more withdrawn when he was in the same room as me, it was a whole other story with Fred. It’s not like I didn’t know he would be the worst about it because let’s be honest, I knew he was the most impulsive. But not speaking to me in three days? It was childish and definitely hurtful. 

“You know he’s just worried, right?”

George’s voice made me jump and I looked up. His back was resting against the back door. He was just standing there, his hands deep in his pockets and his eyes soft. 

“All I know is that he’s being a prat.” I muttered. 

Of course I knew he was worried, not only about me but also about the rest of our family. I knew this little voice he had probably in his head, the one that said There’s no way everyone is going to come back alive.

“And you’re being a prat too, Georgie.”

“Shut up.”

“You, shut up.”

George rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Sometimes I wonder why I even tolerate you.” he said while patting my shoulder as he walked past me. 

“Because you love me?”

“Obviously.”

“George?”

He stopped and looked back at me, his eyes a bit darker than usual. 

“I know,” he sighed heavily and grabbed a chair to sit next to me. 

For a minute or two, we watched silently as Mum was walking everywhere in the kitchen, grabbing things and putting them elsewhere, cleaning a corner of the table and placing an apple back on the basket. She eventually left the kitchen to go I didn’t know where, clearly disappointed as we hadn’t said anything else yet. 

“I’m as scared as you are, Y/N.” murmured George. “And so is Fred. You know how he is,” he added with a humourless chuckle. 

“Of course I know. George, we’ll be six out there, there’s no way-”

“Talking about our bright future without me? I’m hurt.”

Fred grabbed a third chair and pushed his way between George and I, the beginning of a smile on his lips. 

“Oh, so you suddenly remembered I’m your sister?”

“Yeah but unfortunately I haven’t forgotten how stubborn and annoying you can be.”

“That’s one of the nicest things you’ve told me these days. Oh wait- that’s the only thing you told me!”

George was watching out bickerings with a smirk. 

“Sometimes I wonder who is really the youngest,” he stated. 

The effect was immediate. Fred and I shared a glance before defending with an all renewed vigour our oldest-ness, and we kept screaming until George’s chuckles made us stop. 

“Here, I was beginning to think I would have to get Mum involved to get you two to talk again!”

“Same for me!”

Mum entered the kitchen again, a small smile on her lips. She made her way toward her, caressing my cheek and ruffling the boys’ hair before sitting in front of us. Any trace of joy had left her face; at this moment, the realization that she had never looked older hit me, hard. 

“I know we’ll all be worried to death tomorrow,” she began, and her lower lip trembled, making her stop a second. “I know it, but I also know how you three will be. I just wanted to remind you that no matter how hard it’ll be, you’ll need to focus on getting home safe and sound. Okay?”

“Come on Mum, you know we’re always focused!”

_ _ _ 

“Y/N, you need to focus!”

Ron’s voice arrived in my ears like a distant echo, but the urgency in his tone made me look away from the spot in the sky where the green light had just disappeared. I didn’t know who it was, but my mind couldn’t stop imagining the worse even though I didn’t even know what exactly the worse would be. Fred, George, Dad, Bill, my heart was aching at the very thought of one of them even slightly hurt. 

“Y/N!”

My instinct reacted for me, and my broom swerved violently to dodge the curse. Ron came closer to me and accelerated, making me understand I had to follow him. 

“Ron!”

For a split second, I thought that he had been hit and was going to fall off his broom, but it was knowing very little about my little brother. Not only did he dodge and regain his balance, but also stupefied the Death Eater, the spell hitting him right between the eyes. I didn’t have enough time to say anything though, because an intense sensation of heat enveloped me. With horror, I realized my broom was burning, and the responsible was just behind us with four of his friends. 

“Ron, leave!”

I barely registered him shaking his head and extending an arm toward me. 

“Y/N, take my hand!”

I couldn’t though, because I was falling, fast. The sound of my scream was getting lost in the deafening noise of the wind in my ears. The floor was getting closer and closer, and my thoughts got confused, becoming nothing more than an ocean of regrets, the biggest of them being failing my brothers, my family. I wouldn’t get Ron home, I wouldn’t get to see Fred and George again, and Bill’s wedding, I wouldn’t be able to hug my parents and Ginny, to reconcile with Percy and to hear Charlie’s stories. 

The vague thought that I still had a few seconds to live crossed my mind, and then I closed my eyes. 

_ _ _ 

It wasn’t the soreness of my body that woke me up, or the flow of thoughts that was crossing my mind, but Ron’s rambling. 

“Bloody hell,” he said, “what’s wrong with this family? No one is able to stay safe, crazy that we’re even still alive. ‘Ron, leave’? Seriously, Y/N? Come on I’m not a coward and certainly not a quitter, I thought you knew me better than that. You’re getting heavy though, I would love it if you-”

“That was mean.” I murmured.

All absorbed by his thoughts, Ron realized two seconds later I had spoken up and almost dropped me. 

“Y/N! Glad to hear your voice! You scared me to death earlier, I barely caught you before it was too late but I broke my broom. That’s why,” he stopped before letting go of me and wrapping an arm around my waist as I faltered, “we’re walking to Muriel’s. I think we’re almost there- here, isn’t it this awful tea room she loves?”

“You mean the one George almost set on fire when we were four? You’re right, it’s just here.”

_ _ _

Saying that Muriel wasn’t pleased with us being late would be a massive understatement. The portkey disappeared just before our eyes, meaning that we would have to take another broom, and it obviously wasn’t going to happen without us receiving “the lecture Molly and Arthur should have given to all of you when still in the crib”. If usually it was hard to listen to Muriel rambling about our lack of education, at the moment it was definitely the most infuriating thing I had ever experienced. It was getting more and more on my nerves, and I would have exploded if Ron hadn’t decided he had had enough. 

“Listen Aunt Muriel, we’ll finish this great conversation at the wedding okay? We have to go back home. Bye!” he added with a loud voice to cover Muriel’s protests. 

We got out and snuck into one of the neighbour’s garden to grab a broom. It was old and not very well maintained - which made Ron groan, how could someone with a Firebolt leave it in the garden all night long? - and eventually flew back home. 

I heard Ron mumbling something but the wind didn’t bring his voice to my ears, only vague sounds. I was behind him, tightening his waist as hard as I could as I didn’t trust my arms. They were shaking, as were my legs and pretty much all the rest of my body. I was trying to convince myself that it was because of my fall, but vicious images of Fred or George or anyone in my family being hurt kept creeping in my mind. It was a huge relief that the Burrow appeared in my sight, and as soon as our feet hit the ground, Ron let go of the broom to join Harry and Hermione, who were waiting in the garden, and I rushed to the door, oblivious to the voices calling for me. 

I had never actually felt my heart stopping beating. Sometimes, it was very close calls, like the day McGonagall had told us Ginny had disappeared in the Chamber of Secrets, but the second I registered the dried blood and the hole…

“George!”

My voice was high pitched, my sight blurry and my legs trembling, and I didn’t even hear what was said after my entrance. In a breath, I had crossed the living-room and I was now hugging George as tight as I could. My arms didn’t stop moving, trying to get a better hold on his body to make sure he wouldn’t leave and get himself in danger more than he had already. 

“George… Georgie you- you-”

“I’m okay Y/N, don’t worry. Don’t worry.” he added softly. 

I looked up, not even realizing I was crying. Once I was sure George wouldn’t magically disappear in the next seconds, I let go of him to engulf Fred in an equally tight hug. His arms wrapped strongly around me, and after a few seconds I grabbed George’s sleeve and pulled him toward us. 

I didn’t know if the living room had become silent or if I just wasn’t paying attention to anything that wasn’t Fred and George's breath. I could have stayed like that for years, making sure they were alive, they were okay and here with me, but they obviously decided otherwise. Fred pushed me gently backwards, and my eyes fell on him after having watched worriedly George’s weak movement to lie back on the couch. 

“Where the hell were you? What happened to Ron and you? Y/N, do you even have an idea on how worried we were?” 

“I- we were followed and- Ron, he saved my life. I was falling and-”

“Falling?” 

Fred’s horrified look only left his face when Ron finally entered the living-room, followed by Harry, Hermione and Bill and Fleur, who had just arrived. I jumped on my feet and rushed to Bill and Ron, hugging them both tightly before being pulled out of the embrace by Mum, and then it became a blur because of all the hugs that succeeded one another. 

Such sentimentalism was rare in our family, and it was in time like these that I regretted it the most. 

_ _ _ 

Everyone had gone to bed for a while. Fred and I were sitting on the floor next to the couch, keeping an eye on George who was sleeping soundly. His pain had only seemed to fade away when he had closed his eyes, and he had gotten two hours of sleep so far.

“You should sleep,” I murmured when Fred yawned extensively. 

“If you don’t sleep, I don’t sleep either.” 

“And I’m the stubborn one?”

Fred chuckled. 

“Guess that’s something we share.”

A moment of silence followed, the both of us watching George stirring weakly. 

“I couldn’t believe my eyes…” whispered Fred. “When I saw him I just- I didn’t even freak out, it was so much more than that. So much worse.”

“It felt like I just died on the spot.” I added on the same tone, my voice so low George probably wouldn’t have heard it if he had been awake. “I’ve never felt that before and I- I would give everything to never feel it again.”

“I’ve never seen Dad like that before. It scared me, Y/N. I thought ‘If Dad loses his calm like that- it’s not good, right?’”

Fred wiped a tear from his cheeks and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. 

“And then you weren’t coming back. For a second, I thought the both of you had left me and-”

“It’ll never happen Fred.” I interrupted him, my voice not really steadier than his. “Never. It’s the three of us, there’s no other way. Believe it or not, but you’re quite good to be around.”

“I’m flattered, Y/N.” Here it was, this smirk I liked to see, the one he, George and I used to have almost daily. “I could say the same for you, actually.”

“You know what? I think I’ll sleep. You should too, Freddie.”

“I will. Good night, insufferable little sister.”

“Barely little sister.” I mumbled before closing my eyes, comfortably snuggled against Fred, just next to George, in the warmth of our childhood home. 

Safe. 

[azulasragdoll]

Doing the Ultimate Ship Meme with Azulaang just because

General:

Rate the ship -

Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - they either divorce early or stay together until death, no in between.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Azula falls in love first but since she doesn’t really know the emotion Aang ends up being the one to say it first

How was their first kiss? - Aang would describe it as “magical”

Wedding

Who proposed? - Aang proposed about 3 times all times she said no, Azula proposed once he said yes.

Who is the best man/men? - Zuko, Sokka

Who is the brides maid(s)? -Ty lee

Who did the most planning? - Azula would drive herself crazy and be the most terrifying bridezilla ever

Who stressed the most? - Azula, all her stressing made Aang start to stress

How fancy was the ceremony? - Aang wanted a small wedding with close family and friends only, Azula allowed it but the decorations was the finest money could bought.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? Ozai

Sex:

Who is on top? - they are both switches but Aangs usually on top

Who is one to instigate things? - Aang is a curious little thing

How healthy is their sex life-

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? -

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - Aang could go for hours and Azula tries to keep up hating to admit defeat.

How rough are they in bed? -

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? -

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - 2-4

How many children will they adopt?- I could totally see Azula adopting a child just because they remind her of herself or Aang adopting any child in need and bringing them home and begging Azula to keep it

Who is the stricter parent? - Azula is extremely strict but she have her random days were she’s care free and Aang has to be the strict one

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Azula

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - They both wake up early to pack the lunches, whenever she starts stressing Aang stops her and begs her to dance with him.

Who is the most loved parent? - Azula believes it’s Aang but the kids have no favorite they love them equally.

Who is more likely to attend pta meetings? - Azula goes more than Aang with him being busy and she loves hearing people praise her kids (the teachers celebrate when Aang attends without Azula)

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Aang, he would talk to Azula before and try to calm her down about the whole thing than they would talk to the kid(s) Aang being good cop and Azula being bad cop

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking?- Aang

Who is more picky in their food choice? - Aang is picky about the whole vegetarian thing while Azula’s picky about where exactly her food comes from.

Who does the grocery shopping? - they both go

How often do they bake desert? - Aang bakes more than Azula thinks is ok for the kids cavities but she doesn’t stop him especially if he’s making his delicious apple pie

Are they more of a meat eater or salad lover?- Aang is more of a salad lover of course and Azula is more of a meat eater

Who is more likely to surprise the other with an anniversary dinner?- definitely Aang and Azula would love it

Who is most likely to suggest going out to eat? - Aang had a list of vegetarian restaurants he wants to eat at

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - a maid and if they didn’t do it properly Azula would do it herself while firing them and mumbling “if you want somethings done right do it yourself”

Who is against chores?- neither they have a schedule about who does what and when, Aang changes it stealing her chores forcing her to take time for herself

Who cleans up after the pets?- definitely Aang

Who is most likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Aang

Who stresses the most when guest are over? - Azula

Misc:

Who takes longer showers/bathes? - Azula

Who takes the pet out for a walk? - I don’t know if Appa and Momo takes walks but if they did Aang would be the one to walk Appa while Azula walks momo

How often do they decorate house for the holidays?- Aang makes sure everyone in the family schedules a day to make sure the house is decorated for every holiday

Who is most likely to sleep until noon? - Aang

Who plays the most pranks? -Aang, he started a prank war once to this day it’s his biggest regret