#this brand of gifted kids always whines about their struggle while talking down to me. dont do this.

[heaven-dope]

this is a gifted kid-free blog/j

[ichorizaki]

03. the family forest

warnings     infidelity

word count     4.6k

Your body felt hot despite the air conditioner being on full blast. You were rushing around, still dressed in your pyjamas as your husband barked orders at you like you were a lapdog while you struggled to help Tarō put on something that did not have Anpanman on it. It was the day of the wedding between Masayūki Hideo and Meredith Bonavich, and you would have been absolutely damned if you had to travel from Miyagi to Tokyo. Your family was flown out a couple of days ago to help prepare for the wedding at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, which also happened to be where you were staying for the next two days.

“Kāsan! Okāsan! Do I look handsome?” Tarō took your attention as he slid across the floor in his Anpanman socks. A smile graced your face. You knelt down to meet his height, throwing your body towel over your shoulder to ruffle his already messy hair.

“Of course you do.” Before he could respond, your husband came yelling at you.

“Why aren’t you getting ready yet?! It’s almost time and we’ll be late!” Tarō’s proud grin immediately withered into a concerned frown. Your hand reached up to cup his chubby cheek and gave him a forehead kiss before rising to your feet with a quick glance to the clock. You still had two hours till the ceremony started and all you needed was 45 minutes.

Simply ignoring your husband, you headed to the shared bathroom to finally shower and get ready. While it took you a little longer because Tadāo misplaced the hairdryer and blamed you for being inattentive, all of you managed to head down to the reception area with an hour to spare. It was no surprise for you to see your in-laws already grazing the luxurious field like diamond-studded, jewelry-dripping gazelles.

Tarō immediately spotted his cousins and asked for your permission to play with them. Who were you to say no? He happily ran over with a spring in his step, hugging and greeting his cousins with a big smile on his face. Turning to your side, you were met with your sister-in-law instead of your husband.

“Y/N, how are you?” She smiled gently. She was the only one you could ever really talk to besides the other female cousins and the one reasonable aunt in the family tree. You drank in her appearance and your heart swelled with pride at how beautiful she is. The both of you were the same age, give or take a couple months, and were close enough to have a strong friendship even if it stemmed for mutual dislike of your husband’s infidel ways.

“You’re so stunning, Yumeko.” Her already pink cheeks bloomed a bright red, matching the colour of her coral lipstick. Yumeko laughed, shaking her head while waving her hand dismissively. Even her laughter was so lovely.

“Y/N you flatter me too much,” she pouted. “How are you? How’s Tarō?” The both of you began to walk towards the walls so you wouldn’t block anybody’s way. It was out of habit from the countless family functions. While your conversations were mainly small talk until someone else swayed or called for your attention, you still treasured them. The normalcy would only last for so long until someone got too drunk or too riled up or worse—both.

So you talked to her about your baking side business and how it was doing well enough to supply you with some extra allowance. You praised your son, telling Yumeko how he was being a great student and friend in class and how excited he was to be in elementary school. The both of  you had a clear view of Tarō and his cousins playing with one another, running around and snaking between the legs of tall pant-clad folks like the ballroom was their playground. You knew how devious he can be and his natural charm of being able to persuade a crowd (you’ve seen it happen with your own two eyes at his daycare).

Yumeko on the other hand, shared stories of her own dating endeavours. She had tried using Japan Cupid, Tinder, OK Cupid, and even Dine, but the men that she went on dates with never seemed to spark something after the date. Her twin occasionally hung around her during dates in her free time, and when she couldn't, her friends did it. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had a dating app. It was nearly a decade ago; you were sure.

Fifteen minutes before the wedding started, guests from the bride’s side of the family began to turn up. For most of them, they were surprised to see all of the folks already present. You were ready to spectate some fight or even overhear some gossip but you were more than pleasantly surprised to see the two sides mingling well. At least on the surface, it seemed that way. You’ve only been to one wedding on your in-law’s side and it was rather tame, save for the backhanded compliments and viciousness under a façade.

You found your seat at a table designated for your husband and son, along with Yumeko, her sister Yasuko, and your parents-in-law as soon as the wedding was about to be announced. The whole time, you stuck to the twins. After the main course was over (you didn’t really like it—it was too expensive to your liking) and folks began to mingle, dance, and play, you insisted on remaining at the table until Tadāo’s father made an off-handed comment that made your blood boil. Yasuko’s hand was on your back, gently rubbing her hand up and down as an attempt to calm you.

Not even your mother-in-law made an attempt to apologise on behalf of her husband when they both rose to leave the table and join others of their age. You shook your head, thankful for the colourful lights that hid how red your jade-adorned neck was and the translator’s voice booming through the speakers that drowned out your sinful curses.

“Let’s go to the open bar,” Yumeko hurriedly suggested, her purse already clutched in her hand.

“The wedding speeches are going to be over soon anyway.” Yasuko agreed. Her cold hand moved to give your forearm a light squeeze. While Yumeko had an apologetic smile, Yasuko donned an encouraging smile. “Tarō will be fine but I’m sure we have a clear view of the kids’ playing ring.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you nod. The three of you left the table upon gathering your belongings and headed to the open bar across the ballroom. You noticed that Kenji was talking to someone at the bar with a shot of whiskey on the rocks in the hand that leaned against the bar countertop. You didn’t know if he had noticed you or not, but you didn’t care because you were already asking for a berry rose mojito.

You couldn’t find your husband ever since he excused himself after he had finished his lunch meal. Your best bet? He would turn up just in time for dinner or if he needed something from you. The thought settled itself into a hot seed in the back of your mouth. Yumeko and Yasuko were flanked by your sides, their own choice of alcohol in their free hand. While they sipped away at their drinks, you tipped your head back and downed the mojito in three large gulps before returning it to the bartender. The seed was washed down by the chilling, refreshing drink, but you definitely needed more than just a cocktail.

When she tended to you, her eyebrows were raised in surprise at how quickly you finished it but simply left it alone at that. The twins spoke nothing of it either, just being cautious as you eyed the waiters with trays of filled champagne flutes and bite-sized snacks.

“What’s the champagne?” You asked out loud, trying to fight the overbearing volume of the foreign language bleeding through the speakers around the ballroom.

“Dom Perignon Rose, 1998. A gift from the Bonavichs for hosting the wedding, we were told.” Yumeko informed you, sipping on her drink. Your response was just a hum of acknowledgement. You recognised that brand, and it was expensive. Noticing Tarō wave at you from the ball pit with a bright and eager smile, you raised your hand to give him a wave in return.

“You two go ahead and enjoy, okay?” You patted Yasuko’s shoulder. The twins smiled brightly, though reluctant to let you go but acquiesced regardless. With your head held high and just the faintest buzz of mojito in your veins, you headed over to the ball pit where your son and his cousins were happily screaming and playing with one another. Something that you noticed while approaching the play area was that even the kids from the bride’s side were playing along. The language barrier you were worried about, but they looked just fine. Entering the area, the kids who noticed your presence immediately came swarming to you, calling for your attention with none other than your son leading the squadron.

“Y/N-basan!” With effortless grace you squatted to meet their height, calves burning just the slightest from all of your weight on your stiletto-adorned feet. Your nieces and nephews alike fawned over the play area, saying that it was fun because the last time that they saw one another was their grandfather’s 76th birthday party a few months back.

“I’m glad to hear you cheeky monkeys are having fun.” Your hand reaches out to ruffle your son’s hair. “Was my Tarō being naughty?”

“Kāsan!” He whined as he sidled up next to you. Laughter and exclamations that no, he was being a good boy clamoured among the young children. He was forcing his face into a pout, trying to fight off the grin upon hearing his cousins vouch for his good behaviour. Kids always fascinated you with their innocence and trustworthiness.

From the corner of your eyes you noticed none other than Futakuchi Kenji lingering conspicuously outside the play area. He charmingly greeted the other guests with a bright smile, with a half-finished champagne flute in his dominant hand. You tried to pay him no mind, knowing that he was probably there to send your thoughts wandering as you wondered just why he was there.

“Kāsan, I’ll be a good boy, I promise! I even made friends with our new cousins!” He grabbed at your arm, shaking it as his body writhed animatedly. Of course you couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. He was way too cute for his own good and so were the other kids.

“Okay, okay. You kids stick together, okay?” You paused, comically looking around as if to make sure you won’t be heard by anyone but the ring of children around you. You leaned forward and so did they, your voice dropping to a hush, “I know how much you hate the adults.”

Gasps and giggles erupted like fireworks as you rose to your feet but not before Tarō asked to give you a kiss on the cheeks and the kids who wanted to do the same followed. For some reason, you were one of the aunts that they were drawn to. Yumeko and Yasuko were but older sister figures because even if they were your age, they behaved perfectly like a pair of five-year-olds. Eventually you left the playing area with your heart soaring and just the perfect dose of serotonin.

However, it just seemed to stutter a little bit when you realised that Kenji was making his way towards you. Or perhaps he wasn’t. Maybe if you just pretended that you didn’t see him walk up to you, he wouldn’t see you. Just keep walking, you told yourself. Just keep walking and maybe he won’t approach you. So you did: you kept walking in those sickly stilettos until you were blocked by the crowd forming.

“You really need to stop doing that.”

“What in the–” Your words got caught in your throat when you jumped out of your skin, heart threatening to ricochet through your chest. On the heels of your stilettos you spun to look at him with a pointed glare but you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander.

His long hair neatly fell in graceful locks, accentuating the high apples of his cheeks and the sharp slopes of his angular jawline. He donned a simple all-black suit with a deep maroon tie that had golden embellishments yet he still looked stunning. Wait. He’s not your husband. You shook your impish brain, dispersing such intrusive thoughts about a man who wasn't your husband.

“What do you want?” Your coral lips parted, eyes shifting to meet his gaze. Kenji raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. His lower lip jutted out into what appeared to be a weak pout.

“Why do you always assume that I want something, Y/N-chan?” He grumbled and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully. “I just wanted to ask how you were doing and if Tarō’s really your kid.” Formerly you were thankful that you did not have a drink to muse to but now you really wanted a drink. You already had a husband who was lord knows where. If you were going to deal with such bullshit questions from Kenji, you were going to need a drink. A strong one at that.

“Of course he’s my kid. Do my husband and I look like babysitters to you?” You wouldn’t fault him at all to not know that you had a son with Tadāo. As soon as the both of you had gotten your degrees in university, he had fled out to London for a business opportunity for a couple of years before settling back in Yokohama with a now booming company under his own name. He wasn’t there to attend your wedding six months upon your graduation and you were glad that he wasn’t. Lord knows what would happen between him and your husband.

“I mean, next to him, you look like the babysitter,” he murmured under his breath. You chose to ignore the insult thrown at your husband, waving for a waiter’s attention. The timid-looking boy came up to you with a nervous smile and a trayful of filled champagne flutes. You took one and thanked him before taking a long slip of the drink. “But I’m just saying—he kind of looks like me when I was a kid, don’t you think?”

It took everything in you not to spit the drink in his face right then and there.

“What crack are you on and where can I get some?” He simply chuckled, his eyes lazily floating back to the play area. You mirrored his gaze and watched as your son led the army of kids around, having made-up adventures and having the time of their lives.

“Are you really sure he looks like Tadāo? He doesn’t behave like you too much and he definitely does not take after the big man himself.” You were stunned speechless. You couldn’t quite remember how your husband looked like when he was a child. Had he ever shared pictures of him in his childhood with you? You were never close with his parents, which was a wonder how his mother even gave her blessing. While you were stuck in your thoughts, lips gaping and closing like a voiceless muppet, he chose to add more salt to the pain. “He literally has my eyes and hair.”

“What are you on about?!” You scoffed and took another large sip of the champagne. As the sparkling drink danced down your throat, your feet began to take you elsewhere. Towards the tables? Towards the exit? You didn’t know. “The both of you are cousins; of course there may be some form of resemblance but that’s as far as it gets. You’re sorely mistaken. Tarō is Tadāo’s child. End of discussion.”

Another sip from the champagne managed to cool down the hot seed lodged in your throat until you noticed your husband’s figure across the room. You had to do a double take to make sure it was him—the lights were dimmed for the sake of the father-daughter dance. To your dismay, it was. The same crisp maroon suit, emblazoned with plush velvet on the inside, the same black tie that you made hung loosely around his neck with the top two buttons undone. Your jaw tightened. Dainty fingers manicured just for the occasion squeezed the champagne flute in a vice grip.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, eyes immediately averting your gaze anywhere but on your husband flirting with a woman who was older than the both of you. What was worse was that they clearly had a wedding ring that they both chose to ignore. Unbeknownst to you, Kenji had followed his gaze to where you were looking before cringing a tad bit too obviously and looked away.

“How many times do I have to tell you he’s a good-for-nothing son of a bitch?” He sighed, watching you tip your head back and down the rest of the champagne. Spotting a waiter, you waved them over. At the same time, however, you heard a gruff voice that belonged to one of Tadāo’s uncles chastising him for his words.

“Kenji, calm down. He may be married, but he’s still a man.”

Oh, the audacity. Your lips were pressed in a thin line, passing the empty champagne flute to the waiter. With practiced grace and poise, you gave the old man a vicious smile before it burned into a dark glare. You kissed your teeth to outwardly show your displeasure before turning to face Kenji with the same heavy gaze. He gulped, eyebrows raised in shock.

“You think I don’t know that?” Exasperation clung to your voice like a needy child, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes at the sudden outburst. With your heart sinking in your chest you took a deep breath, “It’s too late for me to start over.”

“That’s not true, Y/N–”

You didn’t want to listen to what he had to say. Your steps were heavy as they soundlessly clicked against the marble tiles of the ballroom. Even in your haste to get out of such an airtight space you were so polite, excusing yourself in a gentle yet firm voice, snaking between bodies with your head hung low in embarrassment. How fast were you going, you had no idea for once the ballroom doors were forced open by your arms, you found the lift lobby and immediately punched for the ground floor with such brute force that you were sure that your knuckles threatened to bleed.

Kenji’s figure was so tiny when he squeezed past the ballroom doors. With a bitter, tearful smile, you watched as your eyes met and the lift doors closed before you, taking you to the level below so you could breathe once again.

You didn’t care that your feet burned. Glossy tears clouded your view like broken glass shards and the world was but a broken kaleidoscope of colours. You ran until you were struggling to keep up with yourself. You kept telling yourself you wanted to tear yourself away from high society but you knew it was just your husband and his cavalier infidelity. The fact that he doesn’t even try to hide it hurt you more.

Eventually your knees gave in. Your stilettos were long gone, nude stockings the only thing protecting your bare feet from getting hurt by the cement ground. You didn’t know where you were, running aimlessly but all you saw was a bench. A bench that sat alone in a vast area of greens, yellows, and oranges. The world spun around you as you carefully manoeuvred your way to it, plopping yourself down before completely breaking apart.

Sobs ripped through your lungs and like a vicious tsunami, all of your pent up emotions came crashing down. Seeing your husband talk up a married woman where a wedding was taking place was the last straw. You couldn’t take it anymore. How could you? How could he? What happened to the oaths and the vows he had sworn the day of your wedding some forgotten years ago? You were once a woman with dignity and now you were reduced to a lapdog servant waiting for its owner hand and foot, never once treated with respect.

Pulling away your hands from your face you noticed how your mascara had been ruined. You were positive that you looked a mess. Blotches of coral, black, and pink mixed in the palms of your hands in a melancholic, painful dance before a frustrated groan came from an exhausted you. Swatting your hands downwards, the makeup—or lack thereof—fell like paint splatter. Your thoughts were heavy and dark, a storm cloud waiting to wreak havoc and flood the endless depths of your mind, but nothing compared to the weight of the one conclusion that you had come to. Unfortunately, you knew it was hard to–

“Y/N!” Huh?

You blinked back tears, slowly raising your head. You could already feel the hurricane-like aftermath of a headache from all of the crying and the running. It didn’t help that you barely ate during the first round of meal courses. Bringing your closed fists up to your face, you rubbed your eyes gently with your knuckles before realising that it was Kenji running up to you.

His blazer was no longer on him, tie loose and the top few buttons of his dress shirt undone. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, cuffs unlinked. Sweat lined his forehead and you noticed the hint of sweat prints on the underside of his pits as he stood before you, panting with one hand propped onto his hip.

“You . . .” He gulped heavily, catching his breath. “You run so quickly.”

“I just want to be left alone right now, Kenji.” The godawful crack in your voice made you wince. You thought you had cried out enough. Apparently not.

Nothing but silence from him. You could feel his stare on the crown of your unkempt hair but did nothing to prompt him. You wanted to be left alone. You wanted to be left alone. Did you? Because for some reason you felt reassured that he was there. For some unknown reason you felt relieved and at ease within his presence. For some twisted reason you wanted him to hold you in his arms and tell you that everything would be okay.

“Listen.” He began. Kenji sunk down to his knees so that you were both face-to-face, but even then you were avoiding his gaze. Cradling the tip of your chin in between his index finger and thumb, he tenderly guided your gaze to meet his, and oh, was it an absolute sight. They were bewitching; intoxicating. His eyes were the dark orange of a sunset shining through fire opals and they burned with a fondness you’ve never seen from him before. They were gentle, as were his hands when they reached down to cup your small hands. “I hate his guts. You know that better than anyone. Don’t you think it’s time we get rid of his pigeon-hearted ass?”

The corner of your lips threatened to tug upwards into a smile at the weird insult. Pigeon-hearted? He’s so weird, you thought, but as you thought that your smile eventually bloomed like a flower in spring. Before you could register your words, your lips were faster than you as you found yourself asking, “What’s in it for you?”

“Aw, Y/N-chan, I didn’t realise you cared about my wants and needs!”

“I’m not doing it!” You sourly frowned. What kind of response was that?! His flowery demeanour dropped as did his voice to but a bare whisper. What’s gotten into him? You get that he was trying to help you—and you appreciated him for it, genuinely—but sometimes you just didn’t understand what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his.

Wait. Pretty? What were you–

“Y/N, I’m being serious. You don’t need that fucker in your life.” Kenji’s voice managed to reel you out from venturing deeper into your ocean of thoughts. Your gaze which had fallen to the ground between the both of you had darted back up to meet his eyes, “You can do better than that. It’s not too late for you to start over with someone else. For all you know, they could be right under your nose this whole time.”

His words tiptoed into the depths of your mind, settling in and making themselves comfortable before sinking into the pitless ocean. Maybe he was right. Maybe you could still start over with someone else, someone who means something to you, someone who won’t leave you in the dirt and someone who would love Tarō for all of him. Oh, Tarō. Your heart longs for the day he will no longer be afraid of the man who is meant to be his dad. You never meant for him to be in such a troubling and stressful environment and all you want for him is the best.

Kenji earnestly stared into your eyes, and you gave him your green light. You deserve a better life. You deserve another chance at giving yourself the happiness that you truly deserved. He smiled brightly when you said yes to his proposition, a smile that gave you butterflies in your stomach.

You maintained eye contact as he rose to his feet after squatting for so long before extending his hand to you. You frowned. Were you supposed to take his hand? You looked up at him, then at his hand, then back at his face. He huffed impatiently, the smile dissolving into a childish pout.

“Hold my hand, damn it! Let’s go back together.”

You stilled at the prospect of heading back to the wedding. You didn’t exactly feel like going back into a room full of people. You had your hotel card in the pocket of your dress (the only thing you thought was worthy of the painfully expensive piece of fabric) and all you had to do was leave Tarō on Kenji’s care . . . sort of. Maybe you could get the twins to take care of him instead. Tarō wouldn’t be too thrilled to have another adult male keep an eye on him.

“Y/N?”

“Huh?” You blinked. Crap. You were spacing out and you didn’t even realise it. “My heels are missing and my feet are too tired.”

You had expected him to laugh, which he did. You had expected him to throw an insult your way, or even joke about how you were growing old so quickly, which he didn’t. You didn’t expect him to offer you a piggyback ride. You threw him a look like he had grown two more heads and a tail, profusely refusing. There was no way in hell were you going to ride him piggyback.

“C’mon, please? That way, my hands are free when I take you back to your room.”

It was unfortunate that he had a point there.

With a sigh, you reluctantly let yourself climb onto his back. You awkwardly pressed yourself against his back, his hands hooking under your thighs and hoisting you up. While it was weird for you, you didn’t mind it. He smelled good, and he was warm compared to the chilly almost-autumn air. He was probably speaking, but you were too tired and comfortable to register his words. Exhaustion took over your limp body and eventually, your world turned black with a promise that everything was going to be alright.

PREV.    |     ML.    |     NEXT.

[retvenkos]

“this world isn’t ready for us”

requested

HOW I IMAGINE THE BASICS OF THE  MARAUDER ERA HARRY POTTER CHARACTERS…

James Potter

hogwarts years 1971-1978

james potter is indian, you cannot convince me otherwise

he has the greatest hair ever - it’s black and fluffy, and even though his father literally invented hair products, he doesn’t style it

it just naturally falls in a really beautiful way and sirius hates it

james potter is left handed, you cannot convince me otherwise

he always has smudges all over his hand and he’ll wipe the ink on remus’ face when he wants to be annoying

he’s 5′11″ (180 cm) and he had the majority of his growth spurt in his third year

he was awkward and gangly all year, and that mixed with his new crush on lily was hell in a handbasket

he eventually filled out, though, and by 5th year he wore it well

he had big round glasses because without them he’s blinder than a bat

he also  n e v e r  wore his tie - mcgonagall hated it more than anything and she would always fix his tie (with magic!) in class

she would also lecture him in that mom™ way

lily laughed at him one time because the end of the tie hit him in the face and that’s when james realized he loved the sound

also, most people have this idea that james was suave and flirted with lily all the time, but i disagree

he was an awkward mess when talking to girls and would make the most corny jokes, hoping lily would laugh

he only got good at flirting in his seventh year, after a summer of sirius teaching him how to be cool

but talking with his mates, james was an arrogant idiot.

but always respectful.

he was really good at transfiguration but absolutely terrible when it came to potions

also, i know he’s canonically an only child, but i think he has a younger sibling - probably a sister. he just has the older brother vibes. adopting his friends the way he did? only an older sibling, mom friend would ever.

Remus Lupin

hogwarts years 1971-1978

so i’ve already covered a lot about remus here but i’ll go off again

so i like to think that remus is secretly really good at drawing

we all took him for a writer but i am adamant in the idea that sirius is the poet, not him.

he can also do calligraphy - the writing on the marauders map was all him, fam

he’s also ambidextrous or at the very least able to use both hands pretty well

he’s definitely the tallest of all the marauders, coming in at a whopping 6′3″ (190.5 cm)

he was always lanky, too. james swore that one day he would be taller than remus, but it never happened

and i know we all like to think of remus as being the most studious child there ever was, but honestly,,, he was struggling every day and the reason he was constantly doing homework was because he was chronically behind in school work

i’m talking like at least a week out at all times

of course, the teachers knew why, and so they allowed him some slack, but still, he had the same expectations

but he was interested in most of his classes, and he worked on all of them equally

i think how he and lily met was that he needed a tutor because he was behind and she offered to help him

he just generally has this sad air around him, too

it was kind of a thing that he and snape shared for a while - two sad boys who were desperate to prove they belonged

and then, in their later years, they both take very different routes

oh, and because i haven’t said it enough, i love the idea of latino!remus lupin

and he could be bilingual!!!!

Sirius Black

hogwarts years 1971-1978

okay, here. is. the. thing. sirius is average height. i cannot emphasize this enough. i always see things about him being tall, but you are incorrect. he’s not super short, but he’s  a v e r a g e .

5′8″ (173 cm)

that’s still pretty good.

and while he can whine about how short he is, he is the most handsome out of all of the marauders

he has that regal look that makes his so attractive.

if he had an awkward phase, hogwarts never saw it. sirius just always looked really good.

and he did everything else to make himself look as chaotic as he could

he never once wore his school uniform correctly.

there were always buttons undone, ties pulled loose, shoe laces untied

and he acted chaotic, too

laughing overly loud

making unnecessary comments

every day he tried his hardest to be everything that his mother never let him be

as for classes, he’s one of those kids who is naturally gifted in everything (you can thank his mother for drilling him in the years prior to hogwarts) and just really doesn’t care that he has a natural aptitude

the only class he got really excited about was dada

also, i’ve seen the idea that he’s a womanizer be a thing, but,,, no?

i mean, he definitely flirts (most of the time jokingly) because it’s just another thing that can make his family upset and separate him from that image, but i don’t think he’s especially promiscuous

he’s literally a kid, guys

oh, and with every passing day, the lily and sirius friendship goes glaringly underdeveloped and it pains me - they could have been so close to each other but we just sleep on that, i guess

Peter Pettigrew

hogwarts years 1971-1978

so i get why fanon leaves peter underdeveloped, but he was important

first of all, peter is the same height as sirius 5′8″ (173 cm) and the two of them constantly argue over who is taller

they are also constantly aiming short jokes at the other, even though they are the same height??? they’re just insulting themselves.

at the very least, peter is a half-blood (i think he might have been muggleborn but then why would voldemort tolerate him, y’know?)

i like to think that he is really in touch with his muggle side - he and remus talk about muggle stuff all the time and play jokes on sirius and james who are oblivious but want to learn

peter was also really good at finding secret passages

he found the better part of the ones on the map, and maybe he knows about a few others, too

he was definitely the cartographer of the marauders map. who else would have had the skill?

he was definitely more awkward like james, and he never quite grew out of it like the rest of them

but it was okay, because his friends were fiercely loyal to him

even if it screwed them over in the end...

i also have this idea that peter was really good at games? like, gobstones and chess were his area of expertise

it’s definitely something that he would do with the other marauders when they were stressed out or sad

and he would sneak them food from the kitchens and they would just sit up and play games for a while

i think that peter was also that marauder that would check their schedules, seeing what classes they had together, and which ones they could all bail on to hang out in the forbidden forest

i also think that peter was a huge music enthusiast

he and james definitely talked about music a lot - he took james to his first concert and it was really precious

james would sing at any an all times, and peter would know all of the lyrics, singing more quietly but supplying all the words.

Lily Evans

hogwarts years 1971-1978

lily was a nervous wreck in her first year of hogwarts

but also vvv excited - she wanted to learn everything

she had a natural talent for dada and was also pretty good at potions, thanks to snape being her bff

she struggled when it came to history of magic because, y’know, she’s brand new to all of it

lily had really long, beautiful red hair ever since her first year

and, of course, those eyes

she was always very pretty, but she also got a lot of hatred because she was a muggleborn, so she struggled with herself - especially in the later years

i imagine she’s average height or maybe a little tall, definitely not short, since harry was his dad’s height

probably 5′5″ (165 cm)

also, lily was the one who gave harry all of his sass

she definitely was the one to sass james (who loved it, despite being taken aback the first few times) and she was very adamant in her beliefs

she loved her friends more than anything, of course, but she would put her foot down when she had to

i also feel like lily was a thrill seeker

it’s why she and james got along in their seventh year when they were head boy and head girl together

he probably showed her secret passages or shortcuts to places and she couldn’t bring herself to reprimand him

she’s also a little impatient

she always sips at her tea too soon, burning her tongue

or she’s tapping her foot five minutes before class ends because she’s raring to go

she also walks fast

Severus Snape

hogwarts years 1971-1978

so snape’s biggest thing is that he will not be the small fish in the big pond - he will not be picked on

and so that has screwed up some of his relationships because he will do anything to not be the last kid picked

this also means that his loyalty is only with himself (and lily, previously, but when it was him or her that had to take the fall, it was her) so he’s definitely a lone wolf

i think his slow way of talking didn’t manifest until he was in his sixth year

it was a way to be calculating - see how people react to what he’s going to say before he says it

he was definitely a wide-eyed kid

really big, sad eyes that would have made anyone feel bad for him

they went away during the end of his third year and beginning of his fourth

he traded it for pushing his head down, not allowing anyone to look him in the eye

snape was definitely a book nerd, and he used to spend all of his time in the library with lily

but after the marauders started hanging out in there (thanks, remus and lily), he had to find a new place

he wore his robes properly, and with a lot of care since he was pretty poor growing up and he was determined to wear them as long as he could

that’s where a lot of his formal aesthetic came from

also, it was a stark contrast to the marauders - where they were carefree he was uptight, where they were informal he was not. the recipe for disaster.

also, he was pretty short up until his fifth year, where he grew like a weed

at full height, he was 6′1″ (185 cm) - just tall enough to look down at james

Dorcas Meadowes

hogwarts years 1971-1978

i’m pretty sure canon agrees with me when i say that dorcas was black, and a pureblood.

her family weren’t blood supremacists, tho, they were vehemently against voldemort and she grew up with those ideals

she was sorted into ravenclaw but quickly became a friend of lily’s because they both had so much interest in school

dorcas would help her study for history of magic, and in return lily would talk to her about the muggle world

and when i say dorcas was talented, she was talented

i mean, it’s literally canon that voldemort killed dorcas personally, so she had to be a particularly skilled witch

i like to think that in her spare time, dorcas would even make her own spells - similar to snape, they were both inventors

she was very studious - studying long into the night and always reading a book or doing homework during lunch

she was definitely taking many n.e.w.t. level classes when she had the chance

she was probably the model student that the teachers were all very impressed by - she was going places

she was head girl and a prefect, sometimes working alongside remus lupin

i also think that she had a crush on marlene mckinnon

and she thought she was being obvious about it, too - going to quidditch matches? since when had she ever done anything remotely social?

she was planning on being an auror, and she was made one almost immediately after leaving school

james would always ask her for notes, and if he said they were for remus she would always give them to him because remus was a sweet kid and he wouldn’t ruin them

5′4″ (163 cm) but she packed a punch

also, she had great cheekbones. you can’t convince me otherwise.

Regulus Black

hogwarts years 1972-1979

if you were wondering where all of the tall genes went in the family, then look no further

he’s still not super tall, but he surpasses his brother, coming in at 5′11″ (180 cm), the same height as james

he also hit his growth spurt sooner, in his second year, when sirius was still short

and where sirius is overly handsome, regulus is a little less so

he’s still handsome (don’t get me wrong), just in a more... quiet way.

he’s always been a more sombre boy, with sadder eyes and lips less inclined to smile

i think he was always the more plain boy, the more overlooked boy, and that really got into his psyche at a young age

he’s also bookish - this, again, stemming back to his childhood

he was always looking for a way to top sirius, be better than him

if you wanted a boy to speak french in the hp universe, this is him

i feel like regulus would have just been really gifted with languages? he probably knows multiple and reads a lot of literature (including muggle literature - sirius got him a book once, please don’t tell his mother)

he excels in school - went all the way with potions and fell in love with alchemy in his sixth year

but while he’s intelligent, there’s a lot on his mind so he’s never super present in lectures and he doesn’t over participate

he cuts his hair short, always clean and the perfect image that his family wants

in his first two years, he tried to talk to sirius a lot and keep their relationship at something like brothers, but sirius could never understand him and regulus could never understand sirius so they drift apart by his third year

he still feels guilty about that, after all this time

oh! also! regulus is seeker for the slytherin quidditch team. it’s just a thing he does, he doesn’t super love it or anything.

Mary MacDonald

hogwarts years 1972-1979

so mary is a gryffindor a year below lily and the rest of the gang, friends with lily because she, too, was a muggleborn and lily stood up for her against some mean older boys

i headcanon mary as being latina, or maybe just from spain

either way, she comes from a big family and is a middle child

and she speaks spanish.

she’s 5′1″ (155 cm) and you know her friends use it against her all the time, short jokes galore

and she’s very outspoken amongst her friends, making giraffe jokes in retaliation, but it just never really stuck the way short jokes did

she excelled in healing magic and was definitely an ace at potions

she also really loved divination, mostly because it worked in ways that were very different than other magic

she was always braiding hair and definitely taught lily how to braid that long hair of hers

her favorite place was the gryffindor common room because it was always so alive? it reminded her of her big family, that’s for sure

oh, and if james does have a younger sister, when he meets mary macdonald, she immediately reminds him of his sister

and so the two of them quickly become a chaotic duo, singing muggle songs together but also getting on each other’s nerves just for the fun of it

Marlene McKinnon

hogwarts years 1970-1977

she’s one year older than lily but immediately sees this cute first year, lost on the stairs and adopts her

marlene is definitely the reason that lily can be so sassy, too. she’s a terrible influence, really, especially with that mouth

marlene is a gryffindor, too, and she’s definitely on the quidditch team

a chaser, probably - she most likely helped train james when he joined the team and that’s how she knows all about his crush on lily and teases them both

and she 100% gives james tips on how to talk to lily, shhh, no one tell

she has masses of curly, blonde hair and it’s constantly being pulled into a messy top knot or ponytail

she did a dare in fifth year that involved shaving her head and she did it, but immediately freaked out afterward. lily had to find her a hair growing potion, but for a week she had a shaved head that sirius teased her about mercilessly

in her defense, she thought it would be fine at the time.

she was a talented witch, but she struggled in care of magical creatures

she just wasn’t an animal person, okay?

she swears that unicorn was going to gore her.

her favorite class was astronomy - she liked to be outside, and being in the astronomy tower was pretty close to flying.

oh, and she was tall for a girl - 5′9″ (175 cm) and taller than sirius. it was a thing

she was fiercely loyal of her friends and would have been down to duel with anyone if they said anything about lily

she had a lot of siblings and she was the oldest, so it was kind of a given

marlene would have punched death eaters if given the chance

she wanted to punch snape a solid three (3) times during her school years but lily always held her back

Frank Longbottom

hogwarts years 1969-1976

frank was a gryffindor, and a rather sweet one at that

he was a pretty social guy - he had lots of friends, despite being pretty shy. he was just a generally great person to be around and he cared about people a lot. it got him places.

he was pretty tall - 6′0″ (183 cm) - and he had a kind of dorky look to him

but he cleaned up nicely, and every year he got a little better looking

neville got his awkward phase from his dad, and when alice was pregnant, frank said he would have to apologize to his boy for inheriting those longbottom genes, one day.

he really loved movies - he and alice were kind of pop culture nerds

he was a little before remus lupin’s time at hogwarts, but they would have gotten along famously, had they been closer in age

but he definitely had a soft spot for the marauders - those younger gryffindors who were funny and bright and made living in these dark times a little easier

his best class was definitely charms

he loved that class and hoped to one day teach it.

going back to hogwarts one day was always a dream of his

he was terrible at divination, though. something about looking into the future just never felt right.

Alice Longbottom

hogwarts years 1969-1976

so we never get confirmation on what alice’s maiden name was, but i’ve seen in the fandom that it’s widely regarded that it could have been alice fortescue, and i thought that was sweet and kind of just absorbed the idea

alice was a hufflepuff, and a pretty social one at that

she was constantly chewing bubble gum and talking with her large group of friends

i like to think that she always had short hair in school - a dark brown bob that kind of bounced whenever she walked

she was short - 5′2″ (157 cm) - and when she and frank got together in their sixth year, he would always hold her hand and guide her through the crowded halls

she got where she was going so much faster that way

i like to think she’s east asian, or maybe half, on her mother’s side

she was best at herbology, and it surprised everyone when she turned out to be really good at combat magic?

turns out she was great at non-verbal magic and doing magic without her wand

she had lots of practice when helping the plants thrive in herbology - she unwittingly used magic a lot to help them grow

she had so much magical potential, neville definitely inherited that

i also think that she was the more forgetful one out of her and frank, and that’s why neville’s also kind of forgetful, himself.

Narcissa Malfoy

hogwarts years 1966-1973

so let’s get one thing straight - draco gets his incredible bone structure from his mother

this girl had the greatest cheekbones this world has ever seen

and it gave her a very regal look that would have appeared cold on anyone else

but narcissa was kind, okay? she was soft.

also narcissa is queen at wizards chess and strategy - she beat amos diggory’s winning streak in her third year - but she’s also really great at history

and it interests her!

even though lucius was a year ahead of her, he’d always ask her if he didn’t want to do his homework, offering her anything in return

most of the time it was white chocolate or some kind of cream filled pastry - she always had a bit of a sweet tooth, and lucius is her greatest enabler

her worst class was probably herbology or care of magical creatures

she didn’t like working with her hands. she said it wasn’t very “becoming”

andromeda taught narcissa how to do her makeup in her third year, and she picked it up fairly quick, very partial to a dark lip

andromeda also taught her how to do hair, but narcissa preferred to wear it down when she was younger

she’s said to be tall, so i imagine she clocks in at about 5′8″ (173 cm), taller with her usual heels

Lucius Malfoy

hogwarts years 1965-1972

lucius malfoy... where to begin

lucius was really good at reading people. it was one of his strongest talents, and it, interestingly enough, made him really good at divination and other intuitive magics like charms

and even those classes he didn’t like, he did his best to excel in because 1) expectations, and 2) lucius knew there was power in knowledge. and he wanted all of the power he could get.

but he was also great at charming people so when he didn’t want to do his homework, he was all over everyone else, not so much asking for help as just getting it after a word or two.

yes, he always had that long hair

narcissa would sometimes give him little braids when they were in the slytherin common room, but if you were present to witness it, you didn’t ever mention it

he would know and your life would be over. it’s just the facts

and did he always have impeccable style? mostly, yes.

he was always very neat with his clothes - things were always in their rightful place, no matter what

he didn’t get the pimp cane until later, though. it was a graduation gift.

and lucius isn’t actually super tall? i mean, he’s tall, but not super tall

he’s 5′10″ (178 cm)

and he never hated how narcissa and him where basically the same height? (she liked to wear heels) supportive husband, i guess.

and i guess i should tell you - they got together in their 6th year

Amos Diggory

hogwarts years 1963-1970

amos diggory was a hufflepuff, and honestly, he was really cool in his day

he’s the oldest out of everyone on this list, but he went to school with lucius malfoy and xenophilius, leaving before the marauders ever came to school

he was head boy in his 7th year and a prefect prior to

he was kind and worked hard, so the teachers thought he was a good fit

he was particularly gifted in care of magical creatures and transfiguration

he was also really good at wizards chess - he was unbeatable for a while - even against lucius

narcissa beat him in his sixth year, though, and she became the new student to beat

he had a lot of freckles - especially on his arms. they faded a bit with age but he still has quite a few

and he was really good looking?

plenty of people had crushes on him and it may have went to his head just a bit

but he was still very kind and humbled because he wasn’t the most talented or bright, but dedicated to what he loved

whoever he gets with definitely brings out more of his humility and it’s a good match for him

he’s so whipped.

he’s 5′9″ (175 cm)

Other Characters:

Mafalda Hopkirk

hogwarts years 1963-1970

mafalda is portuguese and spoke the language in her home. she mostly learned english for the first time at hogwarts. she had a few exposures before that, but hogwarts was really her first place to learn it.

she was a hufflepuff and honestly exemplified the “hard working” and “kind” traits. truly a friend to all.

she was great at flying and became a chaser for the hufflepuff team almost right away

she also really loved divination - she got into xylomancy early on and was super skilled

she loved making up omens too just to scare her friends

she teased her friends a lot tbh

she’s 5′0″ (152 cm)

oh! and in the hufflepuff common room she basically claimed one of the couches for herself - she’s a bit of a night owl so she perpetually claims the same chair and ends up falls asleep in it.

and since she went to hogwarts during amos diggory’s time, i kind of think the two probably dated at one point. it didn’t last, but maybe in their sixth year the two went on a couple of dates

Xenophilius Lovegood

hogwarts years 1965-1972

xenophilius was a ravenclaw who honestly had a handful of friends and managed to get one in every house  - including slytherin

yes, he could be weird, but he was honestly fun to talk to and gave a lot of interesting insights that weren’t technically wrong, but kind of sounded like it

he was made fun of for it, don’t get me wrong, but his oddities gave him a couple of friends that would let him just ramble

he mostly stuck to himself and his small group of friends, so nothing big ever came of his teasing

plus, when he was younger he wasn’t nearly as out there. that came with age and isolation.

he was actually really intelligent and, like narcissa, had a knack for history

he was also really good at charms - he could do non-verbal spells sooner than most

i imagine he started to grow his hair out in his fourth year, but before then it was short.

all fourth year it was at this really awkward length, but by fifth year it was longer and more natural looking

he only gained his odd fashion taste in his seventh year onward.

Edgar Bones

hogwarts years 1965-1972

edgar bones is a ravenclaw with the biggest fascination with space - more than anyone else you’ll ever know

he was really interested in it when he was younger, and when he went to hogwarts for the first time, his love for astronomy just skyrocketed

good luck getting him down from his tower, because it’s a near impossible feat

he has freckles all over his face (his mom used to tell them they were constellations) and brown eyes hidden behind a pair of square glasses

he actually wears them really well, he’s pretty good looking not going to lie

and for height, he’s pretty average at 5′7″ (170 cm)

he’s italian. idk why, but i just really think he’s italian.

sports aren’t really his thing, but he grew up in a family that lives for quidditch, so he’s a pretty decent chaser if you ever put him up to it.

he’s also really good at potions, although he doesn’t really have a love for it.

if you partner up with him, it’s great because you’ll get your work done fast, but you will end up talking with him about astronomy and divination for the rest of the class.

Bathsheda Babbling

hogwarts years 1966-1973

bathsheda was average height - 5′5″ (165 cm) - with wide, peach color glasses that sort of made her look perpetually surprised

she was black with dark, coily hair that was usually kept short.

she was incredibly gifted in arithmancy and study of ancient runes - the latter which she would one day teach

she was a hufflepuff who set the standard for kindness, always helping the younger students

which made her realize she would love to be a teacher

i don’t think that she was ever given a blood status in canon, but i’ve always thought her to be a halfblood who’s pretty in touch with both the muggle and magical world

i also imagined her to have a younger siblings in ravenclaw, so she could be seen cheering for them at quidditch matches

Fabian Prewett

hogwarts years 1968-1975

fabian and his brother are more well known, so i’ll just hit the basics

so fabian and gideon are clearly twins (don’t @ me with canon, it’s not valid, here), but i also think they were in different houses

fabian was in hufflepuff, and if he ever wore his tie (he was perpetually without it) you would have been able to use it to distinguish the two of them

he was on the quidditch team - a keeper - and was actually really good despite being kind of clumsy on the ground

he was really good at charms and dada but he sucked at transfiguration

gideon was great at transfiguration, though, so it was a constant argument as to who was smarter

fabian definitely gave off younger sibling vibes - he was always joking around and teasing, but he was also very soft hearted when he wanted to be.

he gave terrible life advice, though, go see gideon for that.

i feel like he and gideon had really great hair, although idk why. i just really want them to have nice, curly red hair.

they both kept it short, though. they hated when the curls would get into their eyes.

Gideon Prewett

hogwarts years 1968-1975

now gideon was the brother who was sorted into gryffindor, and you could tell why once you noticed his reckless behavior

if there was anyone the marauders looked up to, it was probably gideon prewett

he definitely helped them set up their first prank and he created such a beautiful legacy, tbh

he was on the gryffindor quidditch team, but he was a beater

the sibling rivalry was really palpable but it made the game so much more fun

like i mentioned, he was great at transfiguration but also had a knack for potions

he was terrible at herbology, though. a plastic plant could die in his care.

gideon is the older twin, but he honestly feels like the younger one sometimes just because he’s so impulsive

but he’s fiercely loyal of his family - don’t even look in their direction or so help him...

also, i forgot to mention that they’re identical twins (because that runs in families and fred and george had to get it from somewhere, right?) and they are both 5′9″ (175 cm)

the tall™ genes came from arthurs side of the family

Bertha Jorkins

hogwarts years 1968-1975

so i know that canon says bertha jorkins isn’t very bright, but i think she was in ravenclaw

i don’t have much on bertha other than she was really curious and loved to listen to gossip

if you ever wanted the good kind of gossip, you went to her because she knew it all

she had connections, y’know?

and i like to think she was creative - probably a writer of some sort, something that would make her want to be a reporter when she left hogwarts

i also think she was a pretty girl. not super gorgeous, but pretty in a more natural, soft way.

Amelia Bones

hogwarts years 1968-1975

amelia bones is the younger sister of edgar bones, and she was a hufflepuff

an athletic girl, she was the seeker for the hufflepuff quidditch team and wanted to be a professional quidditch player for a while, although she eventually turned her gaze to becoming an auror

she was a sweet girl and had a great relationship with her brother - she could sometimes be found in the ravenclaw common room rather than her own, studying with her brother because if he didn’t keep an eye on her, she wouldn’t do her transfiguration homework

she was really good at astronomy, since her brother had been teaching her about the stars since she was little, but her real interest lay in the more tangible magics

again, i like to think that her family is from italy, so she has a really big family and she’s the youngest, which makes her a little pampered, but it’s not too bad.

Sturgis Podmore

hogwarts years 1968-1975

sturgis podmore was a slytherin in hogwarts who mostly kept his head down through his hogwarts years, never really bothering anyone

he had this habit of being able to just slip into the background, no one really noticing him or anything

he was pretty good looking at 5′8″ (173 cm) with a square jaw and a soft demeanor

but again, he had the sneaky ability to just not be seen, so he wasn’t a heartthrob or anything

he was a halfblood and sympathetic to muggleborn students, often helping them in quiet ways so that he wouldn’t get singled out by certain members in his house

he joined the order of the phoenix because he hated feeling like he couldn’t help anyone or do anything that made a difference

he was a really agreeable sort of guy - kind, intelligent, talented.

he should have been the model slytherin, but he was mostly overlooked.

sturgis podmore deserved better, smh

Florence

hogwarts years 1968-1975

florence taylor was a slytherin halfblood who mostly kept to herself

she was friends with sturgis podmore and had a couple of other friends.

she was perfectly kind to others, but she could be a bit curt with acquaintances.

but with her friends, she is the most loyal and would kill for them.

she was made head girl in her seventh year due to her high intellect and generally kind demeanor

she had a secret artsy side - she loved photography and painting, and she had that kind of dark academia aesthetic in all of her work

she liked history of magic and care of magical creatures

she loves animals and is actually really sweet with them?

sturgis may have a bit of a crush on her and there might be a bit of a friends-to-lovers storyline involving the two of them

they are honestly very sweet together - he gives her his sweaters and everything.

and she kind of sucked at potions, but it’s okay because she partnered with sturgis and he absolutely kills it in that class.

they could often be found studying together in the common room, books spread out between them as they worked on the floor

she was 5′4″ ( 163 cm) and had beautiful, brown skin

oh, and she had dimples. that’s important.

Mulciber II

hogwarts years 1970-1977

this sadistic little punk.

his full name is xavier mulciber and he’s in slytherin (obviously)

the leader of his pack (w/ avery and rosier), he’s the most well spoken out of the three of them, and was the one to scout out snape and get him to join them

he was an only child and knew how to work people from a young age

he’s 6′2″ (188 cm) and it helps with his intimidation, even though he’d much rather just talk things out

he was also pretty smart, too, and knew a lot of hexes and jinxes

when he’s cornered someone, he’ll talk to them while walking in a circle, never quite making eye contact because he thinks you’re less than.

he had black hair that he slicked back and sharp, green eyes

Avery II

hogwarts years 1970-1977

punk #2, douglass avery was another slytherin crony of mulciber

now, avery is a bit more complicated

he came from one of those pureblooded slytherin homes, but he himself wasn’t super prejudiced or terrible. he was actually kind of sweet in his first five years at hogwarts.

BUT, his family found out about his muggleborn sympathies and weren’t having it. terrible stuff went down at his house, and when he came to school for his sixth year, he was just as terrible as his summer

in his fifth year he was made prefect, but it was revoked half way through his sixth year when he started becoming nasty to students

he’s 5′10″ (178 cm)

he had brown hair and sort of big, brown eyes

Evan Rosier

hogwarts years 1970-1977

and now we have punk #3, our third sadistic slytherin

now evan rosier was the traditional broad chested, strong bully who looked like he could snap you in half without breaking a sweat

standing at 5′11″ (180 cm), he was a beater on the slytherin quidditch team, and was extremely loyal to voldemort’s cause, even then

he was more aggressive than his friends when it came to negotiations, but he still deferred to Mulciber, knowing his place.

he always had his reservations about avery, and he’d pick on him since avery was objectively lower on the pecking order, but he was also aware that everyone served a purpose

not the dumb jock archetype because while he was always ready for a fight, he knew when he had to wait things out

he was blonde with blue eyes

Dirk Cresswell

hogwarts years 1971-1978

dirk cresswell was a muggleborn hufflepuff who embodied the idea of hard working

he was really talented at everything, and it honestly can be attributed to his work ethic

he was really good at potions and was frequently the partner of dorcas meadowes

they both worked really well together, and dorcas said that she wouldn’t have any other partner because no one else was half as smart and kind as dirk

he was a commentator for quidditch in his fifth year of hogwarts but said he didn’t love it too much - the sport is much funner when you can just watch

he was 5′5″ (165 cm) and was teased for being short (and a muggleborn, but that’s not the point)

he had sandy brown hair and freckles

Greta Catchlove

hogwarts years 1971-1978

greta catchlove was a ravenclaw who mostly kept a low profile during her school years

if you did see her, she was most likely sneaking into the hogwarts kitchens where she learned how to cook from the house elves

a lot of their secrets would be told when she wrote her book “charm your own cheese”

i also feel like she probably had an entire cookbook lineup - not just one about how to make cheese

anyway there’s not much to say about greta

she’s blonde and kind of short at 5′3″ (160 cm)

she was perfectly kind

Farley

hogwarts years 1971-1979

theodore farley was a half-blood slytherin who had to work rather hard to get where he was

he was quidditch captain for his last 2 years of hogwarts, and he was a beater - and a pretty good one, too

he nearly took out james a few times, but it was all in good fun 

because what is key to theodore farley is that he’s noble.

ambitious, sure, but not underhanded or sneaky. he’s the youngest out of a fairly big family, so he’s determined to prove himself, but not at the expense of what he believes

he has honor and dignity

theo was pretty strong, seeing as he’s a beater, and he stands at 5′7″ (170 cm)

he’s half brazilian and had really nice hair - you would not believe

he was very into slicking it back

he was absolutely amazing at charms and actually really enjoyed arithmancy

he struggled in potions, though, and was one time partnered with severus snape

it was horrible. he’ll never do that again.

Emmeline Vance

hogwarts years 1971-1978

emmeline vance was a ravenclaw, and a talented one at that

she was top of the class at charms and she was really good at dada, too. she was a really great spell caster and was good at dueling, too.

she’s half-veela, making her very gorgeous, but she wanted to make a name for herself outside of that beauty, y’know?

she was extremely competitive when it came to school, and she would do anything to get there

but she had a soft spot for her younger brother and would honestly do anything for him.

she was 5′9″ (175 cm) with long, blonde hair that was even more hair goals than sirius black, which is saying something.

Corner

hogwarts years 1973-1980

apolline corner was the younger sister of a few older brothers, sorted into ravenclaw

she was more of an artsy ravenclaw - she played the cello in the music class they had at hogwarts and did the art class, too, although she mostly doodled

she started doing calligraphy and she got okay at it. it didn’t last.

being a half blood, she took muggle studies as an easy class, but she ended up really liking it because it talked about some things she didn’t know or it deepened her understanding of what she already knew

plus, y’know, it helps that it was easy

she was really good in potions, too, something that her whole family was good at because her mom was a potions master and taught them all at a young age

she was absolutely terrible at astronomy for some reason, always messing up the skies by a long shot

she was 5′6″ (168 cm) and had long, black hair and brown eyes

-- taglist: @musicallisto, @babyplutoszx2, @locke-writes, @randomfandomimagine

[krizaland]

Imagine- Yandere!Dib (or just stalker!dib) x reader x Zim Where the reader recognizes dibs real creepy behavior and ends up going to Zim zam their friendo/crush for comfort and/or protection. And then that freinddhip becomes something more? Sorry for the long thing

Don’t be sorry! I love your idea! I kinda got carried away so there’s gonna be more than one chapter!

Be warned: Yanderes are creepy fucks. This fic will contain stalking, and obsessive behaviors.

Ever since you were little, you always were a little too nice. Anytime you saw someone in trouble, you always had the urge to help them no matter what.

Usually, most people would except your help and you would walk away feeling like you’ve done the right thing.

You never once regretted helping someone in need.

That is until Dib came along.

It all started in Elementary Skool. Dib was being picked on by a gaggle of bullies.

They dangled his favorite camera in front of his face while they pelted him with insult after insult.

Just hearing the sounds of Dib’s pained cries made your heart ache.

You remember pushing the bullies away and saving the camera.

The moment you handed the camera back to Dib, you noticed an unnerving look behind his glasses.

At first you brushed it off and tried to continue on with your day.

However, Dib insisted that you stay and talk with him.  You didn’t think much of it so you decided to humor him.

That was your biggest mistake.

The next thing you were bombarded with a flurry of conspiracy theories and accusations of random students being bigfeets and vampires in disguise.

Needless to say, you were pretty creeped out and decided to avoid him from that day fourth.

However, your attempts were all in vain.

No matter where you went, Dib would always be there, ready to drown you in another wave of paranormal nonsense.

Things only got worse as you got older.

Dib’s desire for your friendship had mutated into something far far worse.

To say he had a crush on you was a major understatement!

He would always follow you around and try to get your attention.

Whenever you needed something, Dib would miraculously have it for you the next day.

However, you knew that if you accepted the ‘gift’ you’d be subjected to yet another paranormal rant.

So you decided to politely decline his gifts, no matter how bad you needed the item in question.

Dib seemed to give up on you after he figured out you weren’t interested in his ‘gifts’.

Or so you thought.

You soon found your locker flooded countless love notes and slabs of heart shaped meat.

Each note was creepier than the last and you couldn’t get the stench of rotting meat out of your locker no matter how much you cleaned it.

You then started to notice cameras following you wherever you went.

At first you assumed it was just part of the Skool’s security system. After all, you’ve heard rumors that the Skool tends to watch students like hawks to make sure they don’t cheat on exams.

However, it didn’t take long for you to start noticing the same cameras peeking outside of your window.

Needless to say, you decided it was best to keep your blinds shut from that point on.

Of course, closing your blinds wasn’t enough to stop the creepy coincidences happening wherever you went.

Not by a long shot.

You soon found some of your underwear and dirty socks had mysteriously vanished.

The trashcans outside your house always rustled throughout the night. Only to be found tipped over by morning.

Things only got creepier at Skool.

You would always feel someone breathing heavily down your back whenever you talked to another student.

You would turn around but no one would be there.

To make matters worse, the next day, the student you had talked to would go missing.

Whenever the class needed to work in pairs, Dib would somehow always end up being your partner.

You always dreaded being paired with Dib for when he was’t spewing his usual brand of paranormal nonsense, he would often spend his time showering you with the creepiest compliments imaginable.

Things got even worse when the Skool Dance rolled around.

Dib wasted no time and sauntered up to you.

“Hey, Y/N! Glad I caught you! I was wondering if you had a date to the dance yet?”

You could see the madness oozing from his amber eyes with every word he spoke.

“Oh! Well I’m actually not going to the dance.” You admitted as you rubbed the back of your head.

“Oh? Why not?” Dib asked as he drew closer.

“Because I have a lot of homework to do.” You knew that wasn’t too far from the truth. You did have a lot of homework but that wasn’t the main reason.

“That’s why? You know, I could help out with that, if you want.” Dib offered, his eyes continued to stare into your soul.

“No. No that’s ok! I’d prefer to do it all myself. A-Anyway, I gotta get going! I gotta get to class and stuff so bye!”

And with that, you ran as fast as your legs could take you.

A creepy smile spread across Dib’s face as he watched you escape.

“Just you wait, Y/N, you’ll be mine someday…Then we’ll be together forever.”  

A small giggle escaped his throat. The giggle quickly grew and grew until Dib erupted into full on maniacal laughter.

The next day, your savior had arrived.

Standing next to Ms.Bitters was the cutest boy you had ever seen!

He may have had lime green skin but you couldn’t care less. After all you’ve seen way weirder kids walk through the door before.

“Class, I would like to introduce the newest, hopeless appendage to the student body. His name is Zim” Ms. Bitters grumbled “Zim, if you’ve got something to say, say it now because after this moment, I don’t want to hear another sound from you!”

Zim was taken aback by Ms. Bitters’s outburst but he quickly regained his composure.

“Hello, friends. I am a perfectly normal human-worm baby. You have nothing, absolutely nothing to fear from me. Just pay no attention to me and we’ll get along just fine.”

You struggled to stifle a giggle as Zim spoke. He sure did have a way with words.

Dib’s mouth was agape as he pointed at Zim. His body shook with anticipation as his crazed mind searched for words to shout.

“Take your seat now Zim!” Ms. Bitters snapped as she slithered back to her desk.

Zim cheerfully plopped down into the seat next to yours, only adding to Dib’s madness.

“Today’s lecture is about outer space and about how it will EVENTUALLY IMPLODE IN ON ITSELF!” Ms Bitters sneered.

Zim immediately hopped up onto his desk and waved his arms around.

“Yes, Zim?”

“In the event of say, a full scale alien invasion, how prepared do you think this planet’s defenses would be? Tell me.” Zim’s voice quivered as he sat back down.

“As I was saying, the universe is just doomed…doomed..dooooomed.” Ms Bitters crooned as bugs crawled around her face.

“Ok, am I the only one here who sees the alien sitting in class?” Dib asked as he managed to regain his composure.

The other students looked all around the room while your buried your face in your textbook.

You felt your stomach churn as you knew that Dib would harass you about Zim at lunchtime.

“There!” Dib snapped as he snapped a finger in Zim’s direction. “Right there!”

A horrified expression spread across Zim’s face as pink sweat dripped down his face.

“That is no kid! He’s an alien An alien! One of the monsters I’ve been talking about! He’s here to conquer Earth-”

“Oh not this again. You’re crazy.” Zita huffed as she folded her arms.

“What about his horrible green head?!-”

“INSOLENT FOOL-BOY! It’s a skin condition.” Zim interjected.

“And he’s got no ears! Is that part of your skin condition?! Huh?! No ears?!” Dib whined as he gestured to his own ears.

“Yes.” Zim replied as he somberly looked down at his desk.

“Man, Dib! You think that just because someone looks different you can call them an alien?” one student asked.

“I guess Old Kid is an alien too, huh?” Another added.

“How’s it going?” Old Kid chirped with a wave.

Dib sighed and got up out of his seat.  He scribbled away on the chalkboard before pulling out a metal pointer.

“Ok, this is us,” Dib pointed to a drawing of a naked human man. “And over here, this is Zim!” Dib pointed to a crude drawing of an alien.

“See the difference? Anyone? Anyone? Questions?”

One student raised his hand and grumbled.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with you? All you talk about is seeing aliens and ghosts and seeing bigfoot in your garage.”

“He was using the belt sander. Y/N! Back me up here! I know you can tell the difference!” Dib pleaded as he turned to face you.

Sure enough, everyone’s eyes were on you as you sunk into your seat.

You opened your mouth to speak but Zim spoke first.

“Oh Puh-lease! He’s always saying stuff! I remember that one time Mhm-Hmm.”

“Hey! You just got here!” Dib snapped as he zipped up to Dib’s desk, “Don’t let him trick you! I know what I’m talking about! And there it is. Sitting. Right. There.”

“Well he does look pretty weird.” Said one student.

“Yeah! And he is sitting.” Added another.

“You see? Actual proof that all of the things I’ve been saying are actually right!” A crazed grin spread across Dib’s face as he spoke.

You looked over and saw poor Zim sweating bullets. You knew all too well what it felt like to be humiliated by Dib.

You decided you had to do something. And fast.

“Finally a way to prove that I’m…That I’m..”

“That I’m crazy.” You mumbled from behind your textbook.

“Ok, now that makes sense.” Zita admitted as she sat back down.

“Man, we almost believed him.” Another student added.

Dib let out a growl as he shot Zim a fiery glare. Zim returned the glare in kind and prepared for a fight.

“Doomed…Doomed…Doomed…Ok go to lunch now!” Ms. Bitters commanded.

And with that, everyone flied out of the classroom and headed for the lunchroom.

Next

[disaster-dan]

For Your Sake

Happy gift to @sticklerforstarker, I hope you enjoy this Rhi!! I barely posted this do not worry it is here!! This was for the @starkersecretsanta and wow this was a joy to be part of <3 Await a moodboard because I say so <3

Warnings: violence, implied non-con, age difference, underage Peter

Words: 3k

Things were just better- by a cinch. Peter no longer struggled as much. He fussed, whined, but it all leads to one thing: his submission.

Peter stopped struggling not because he had finally fallen or grown to willingly submit to the man. God, never. Peter stopped struggling when he accepted the fact that his fights and protests  were useless. Fighting always ended up with bruises, too hard bites, hands tied, face pushed into the mattress as Tony roughly fucked his ass and the stinging pain lasted days. So he gave up struggling. That way Tony was sweeter on him, took his time (or didn’t) when preparing him, actually using lube, touching him and forcing him to at least go through an orgasm.

Peter know what to do when he found himself on the man’s bed. Undress, lay back and spread his legs and jerk himself in the process. Or when Tony wanted him on fours- on his knees, ass in the air, face and shoulders on the mattress and beautifully arched. Tony liked that better.

Peter was past the phase of trying to escape. It was no use just like struggling was. It led him nowhere. It led him somewhere worse. Peter was already surrounded by enough dangers in the claws of Tony Stark. Getting a gun shot right next to his temple as a lesson from his last attempt to escape, Peter swore to never be the cause of his own death.

“P-papi?” One of the few (not few) rules Peter had to comply when he was with Tony, calling him those names. ‘Daddy’ was one of them, ‘Tony’ if the billionaire was in a good mood. ‘Papi’ was common.

“Yes, baby?” Tony responded, a voice so soothing. A voice that belonged to a man with a corrupted heart and mind. A man that had no soul. A damn monster.

Peter breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. He was held by Tony in a spooning position, Peter’s slimmer frame was well held over by the older man. He prayed he didn’t upset Tony. Because upsetting Tony was bad. And Peter didn’t want to be bad when he knew what that entailed.

“Baby, what do you want to say?” Tony asked, demanding his words.

Peter didn’t shift to look at him. He stared ahead, eyes on the edge of the bed.

“Are you going to do it?”

“What, baby?”

“It.”

“I don’t like playing these games, Peter.” Tony suddenly tightened his hold around Peter’s waist, making the boy gasp. “What?”

“Ar-are you going to k-kill me?” Peter whispered, trying to remember how to breathe and feeling his heart on his throat.

Tony stopped breathing for a moment. His mind went blank at the question and froze.

Are you going to kill me?

The words buzzed inside Tony’s head like a mantra, chanting and echoing. He had almost forgotten. The promise he had made Peter, before he made Peter his he had already put a death brand on him. It was a threat, a threat that Tony’s lips spilled as a promise. A swearing. An oath.

You’re nobody’s but mine. And if you think you can go cry out for help, just know that you’re already dead.

‘After I’m done with you, I’m going to dump your whore body in a river. Just like I did with your uncle.’

Peter nervously awaited a response and he didn’t feel the goosebumps roam along his skin. His brows knitted deeply worried, because Tony might kill him right there and then like he said but the thought of it just shook the sanity Peter was just barely grasping. Maybe Tony was waiting for Peter to lose it? It’s been a few well months since Peter had been slept without a nightmare chasing him, and every time they just got worse. And he had fallen to accept his fate, sane people kept fighting. Right?

When was the last time he saw his school grades?

Tony doesn’t have to say anything before he feels Peter tremble under his arm and comes to realize the boy is crying. Tony can tell he’s trying to keep himself quiet and it hurts him to hear the sobs that choke end at his throat. The way they lay, Peter is pressed against Tony’s chest, facing away. Tony could just barely see his eyes red and the heavy sad tears flowing down from his eyes. Too pretty eyes. Eyes they shouldn’t be crying. Eyes Tony has made cry many times before. It feels different this time, seeing those tears. And it isn’t a good different.

Peter’s pale shoulders linger with hickies and bite marks, his arms bruised by the man’s strong hand grips. And Tony likes looking at what he leaves behind.

Tony doesn’t say anything as he raised a hand and runs his fingers along the marked skin, making Peter further coil into himself, trying to suppress his wrenched cries. They’re swallowed sobs and sniffing now, but it still hurts.

Peter ultimately falls asleep, his face is red, the pillow under his head has a small damp spot from his tears and Tony loves watching him breathe soundly. He hates himself knowing he got to that point in the first place. Tony wasn’t supposed to care or feel anything for his boy. That was not at all what he intended. Peter wasn’t supposed to somebody, he was supposed to be a bait, a hostage, a toy. And not even Happy, Tony’s best worker, was able to warn him about a potential catch.

Tony Stark didn’t feel anything, feelings in his type of field was only a threat. Men in the field had their own things to watch after, Tony specially bore down on no families, no lovers, no special people, having someone with that type of importance could be used against the person, leverage. Tony had not intended to suddenly care for the boy he only used to fuck down on and occasionally show him off.

He sat Peter on his lap during meetings, often he cooed him at the other man, booming on the skills of his perfect body and mouth. Peter just sat quietly, patient, tried not to flinch when Tony suddenly gripped his jaw or gripped his groin to play with. He behaved. Tony enjoyed.

Tony didn’t do anything with Peter’s sleeping form but admire for a few moments longer, pale smooth skin, marked, beautiful, delicate. Tony was well aware of his youth, that only drew him closer. Happy snapped at him about not the fact of Peter being a hostage (he could care less), but on the fact that Peter was a fucking minor. The search for him would be berserk for months. Tony didn’t give a flying shit, Peter was his, he owned Peter, no witty-ill cop would be able to even go near them. Tony Stark was who Tony Stark was, everyone knew that.

It was well past ten, Tony had to run a few check ups that day, it would be packed. Usually he left Peter in his room. Even alone Peter couldn’t escape, he proved it himself. But a few hours alone in that room he would not mind, just as long as he didn’t have to bear with Stark’s claws on him for a while. Just a while. Food was brought to him, he had the TV with every streaming service he could think of, a nice bathroom within the room, a window that no way in hell opened. He didn’t mind being inside that room. He minded it once Stark stepped inside.

Tony didn’t wake Peter. He carefully pulled himself from the expensive covers and bed and went ahead to get dressed. Expensive suit, expensive ties and shoes, entirely finished with his shades, Jarvis offering him a British robotic Good Morning, Sir.

Tony through the day couldn’t buzz off Peter’s question. Would he kill him? When would he kill him? How would he kill him? Would he even kill him?

“These two were seen contacting outside dealers from our circle, Sir.”

“Send the Red Squad to see what that was about. Contact Barnes, make their bodies disappear.”

Tony had a way or two of going about things.

“Romanoff’s report is here.”

“Results?”

“Pictures of dismembered bodies, she’s left in a hard drive and-” the man slightly flinched back and Happy rolled his eyes. “She left you the ring finger, Sir. With the ring.”

“Send the woman a gift, I don’t care what.”

It was hours of that, in different locations. His phone vibrates with his butler sending him updates on Peter, Tony too had a recording cam in there. He liked rewatching certain nights. The angle was spectacular.

But his butler called and Tony sighed.

“We talked about Peter acting up.” He snarled to the air, his glasses technically were a phone.

“Yes, Mr. Stark. I’m aware. But that is not the issue. He is not acting up.”

“What is this call for?”

“He is not eating, Sir.”

“Why isn’t he?”

“Not sure, Sir. He has not been doing much.”

Tony waved away a worker and his eyebrows bore down. “Has he picked up the phone?”

“Had not even looked at it.”

Tony hung up and again a heavy feeling settled on his chest. Fuck not again. Tony breathed in deeply and sat back on his seat. This kid was waiting to get killed, or kill himself. And Tony didn’t like that it bothered him.

Before Happy could draw him from his thoughts, Tony snapped his fingers and everyone drew their attention.

“Okay. Put this on hold. Everyone else do what does not need my assistance and the roles I gave.”

“Tony?”

“Take me home, Happy I have to do something.”

Tony might be regretting what he was going to do. But it might just be the trick. He was not surprised when he found Peter curled into himself, seemingly showered and changed, eyes on the door nervously. He probably didn’t expect tony him to arrive that early. It was still two in the afternoon. Tony usually got home by nine, earliest.

Tony settled on the doorway, composed patiently and threatening as ever it made Peter rigid and mouth drain. He hated the past few months. He had seen hell. He had seen it all. And that face had burned into his mind.

“Get ready.”

“Is there a meeting?” Peter asked, as tony expected him to dress in certain attire for those meetings. He hated it.

“Just pull on a jacket, come on.” He walked over and Peter by then learned how to not react and Tony kissed him. He was pliant and didn’t pull away until Tony had done so first. “We got things to do, Happy’s waiting.”

In the car, Peter forced his muscles to relax when Tony pulled him close next to him, a strong arm around him and weapon hidden under the treasure of clothes. Tony didn’t seem upset, he wasn’t unbuckling his pants for Peter to please him while they arrived to their destination. It was the worst thing, specially when Tony was on the phone as if Peter wasn’t there or when Tony had those very important guests. He still remembers the satisfaction both men, Tony and Steve Rogers, shared as they watched Peter nearly choke on the thick member and chin dripping with spit and release. Tony’s glasses were also recording to make it worse.

Tony chattered, Peter had to fill in conversation and not upset him. Because that was bad.

“So that is taken care of. What do you think Romanoff would like?”

“I don’t know. Maybe like a nice necklace?”

“Probably something that's been in an exhibit would be nice. That woman is the definition of mystery.” To which Peter quietly nodded in agreement. His eyes downcast. Maybe that was the day Tony pressed a gun to his head. “Steve and Bucky are invited to dinner next week and you’ll meet their own boy, did I mention they have their own now?”

Great. Another missing person.

“I didn’t know.”

Minutes later, Happy is pulling up to a sign Peter had not seen for what felt like years. It was a fucking McDonald’s.

Peter looked back and forth from McDonald’s, Happy and Tony, all the way around. Happy was no help and Tony wasn’t giving him any clue. Was Tony really going to shoot up a McDonald’s? Business? There?

“We’re here.” He said. And the face that beamed on Peter’s sorrow face Tony wishes he could see it all the time. Actual color came to his face and genuine expression made his brown bright eyes go wide. God, he looked like when Tony was younger and excited over his father’s tricks. Peter just looked like a literal child excited over fucking McDonald’s. Peter hardly felt his legs as Tony and him walked to the doors. And the warm air that hit his face and the scent of grease and nuggets and fries was what Peter felt was heaven in hell.

There were people around Peter, kids, women, men, teens, all of which Peter could run to for help and watch as Tony’s men wipe them all out of their lives. He instinctively closed into Tony’s side. In line his eyes scanned the top menu like it was treasure and his mouth just couldn’t stay closed. Tony’s mouth quirked a small smirk at Peter and then he came up to the counter.

“Cheeseburger meal. Pull the onions.” He said very straight forward. His stature didn’t fail to make someone’s hands tremble. The young lady at the counter nodded without a word and clicked into the screen with shaky fingers. Peter didn’t even notice his turn until Tony’s gentle hand nudged him . The room spun.

“I uh...twenty piece meal.” he said quickly. “And...and a…” Peter looked at Tony astonished and filled with wonder. “Daddy?” he whispered quietly enough for only Tony’s ears. Was Tony really letting him?

“Go on. I don’t order your meals.”

Peter quickly nodded and lowered his eyes from the girl. “A big mac.”

Suddenly Peter didn’t feel trapped in that moment. And Tony noticed by the small shine in his eyes as they sat down and waited for their order. It was a long time since Tony had seen that look. It lessened the weight in his chest.

Tony actually got him McDonald’s. And Peter was outside. What happened? Whatever it was, Peter was extremely glad for that. Maybe Tony killed someone important and was in a good mood. Right? Peter thanked whoever or whatever it was which was a horrible thing to be grateful for. Peter munched down on his meal with delight, responding to Tony’s chat with the utmost respect he could offer that day.

“How are the fries?”

“Amazing.” Muttered with food Peter, nearly making Tony roll his eyes because his chefs cooked things a thousand times more delicious than fries. Tony grinned with pleasure regardless. But Peter slowly raised his eyes and spoke shyly. “Did you like your cheeseburger, D-daddy?”

“Cheeseburger a cheeseburger. I enjoyed it, baby. Thank you for asking.”

A moment later, Peter had finished the last nugget, sharing thoughtfully with his captor and both downed their drinks. It was time well spent and Peter couldn't help but be grateful for once. He forgot the question that nailed the sane nerve in his mind. A moment later, Tony was directing them into the car and Peter sighed sadly when he slipped back into his seat. It was a good hour while it lasted. Now home to please Tony in ways he didn’t want to please him. Damn.

“Happy I’ve got another location.” Tony’s voice boomed, and Peter settled himself back under Tony’s arm. He looked with longing at the restaurant, again an invisible rope around his neck and fuck he really did not want to cry.

“Where to, Boss?”

“Central Park.” To which Peter and Happy both looked at him with shock. Happy through the rearview mirror and Peter turning to face him. Tony shrugged at both of them. “Drive.”

“Boss.”

“I didn’t stutter, Happy.”

“You’ve got an entire hostage in the car.”

“And I’m a billionaire mafia king. Drive.”

Fifteen minutes and the beautiful social park came into the car’s windows and Peter wanted to scream in delight. He wanted to cry. To laugh. The park.

“Happy you got my back.”

“Always.” Tony opened the door and slid himself out. Peter stayed in place, staring at the view beyond the car. Wow.  “We don’t have all day. Get out.”

“Yes, Papi.” Peter hurried and without ease slid himself out and right close to Tony, as taught. Tony slipped his shades on and waved at Happy. And then they walked. And oh god Peter was stepping on grass. Grass. And the sun was hitting his face and it wasn’t the warmest season yet there was still leaves falling but what the hell the free wind blew his curls and made him inhale deeply. There were people with dogs, their kids, lovers, there were squirrels damn it. Squirrels.

“Oh my god.” Peter breathed and Tony looked at him, muscles pulling a slight smile on his handsome face.

“Wanna go play in the leaves, bambino?”

Peter looked at him, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Can I?”

Tony kissed him again and Peter pressed himself close.

Anything you want. “Of course.”

They walked a bit longer until they found a place far enough from the public eye and with leaves of different shades everywhere. Tony was a grown man, he didn’t have time or energy to roll around in the damn leaves. He sat by a bench, the silent gun pressing into his thigh and Peter followed as well, uneasy and excited.

“Daddy-”

“Go play.” Tony said, sitting back carelessly. “We’ll be here a while and chef’s got a disciple meal going we need the appetite for.”

Peter nodded and to Tony’s nod, he made his way to the grass and laughed to himself.

He picked the leaves with his hands and let them fall. He picked them up again and he admires the lines and creases and their colors before throwing them in the air. He felt - nice. Tony watched calmly, watched the blush in Peter’s face heat up and the unconscious grin on his face. His hair managed to catch a leaf or two, his eyes nearly glowed. If Tony didn’t know any better, Peter looked ...happy.

He smiled and giggled to himself as he continued to pick up the leaves and fly them about.

Tony didn’t like feeling. He shouldn’t be feeling in the first place. Now here was, heart picked by thorns and about to explode. This feeling he wished he could stop, even if it meant for a wide metal rod protecting the entirety of his heart. Fuck. For Peter. He had entirely forgotten he was going to kill him and the deed sounded despicable and impossible now. He couldn’t just kill Peter. He wouldn’t either. If he had meant it, Peter’s body would be somewhere and gone for good. But Peter was not gone, Peter was alive and well and every night on his bed and served to his every need.

He almost regret having even captured Peter in the first place. Peter free was all shy bright smiles and blushed cheeks.

Peter’s audible laugh ripped Tony from his crisis and the man smiled warmly.

Peter. Peter was alive and well. Nobody else had to know that.

Peter was his, and that was all that mattered. 

@sticklerforstarker <3

[secret-rendezvous1d]

Christmas Miracles.

Maybe one where Darcy tells the family she is pregnant on Christmas Day after all the struggles she's been through?

I couldn’t let this one pass by without being written for this years Blogmas; we don’t see much of Darcy and Sam so it was really fun to explore their little relationship. A little back story into their life. And I know that writing about characters other than Harry and the missus, so, we’ll see how this one goes down with you; I’m so used to writing about Harry and his wife, haha.

Just an additional Author’s Note; I’m not sure on the whole adoption process so I’m going by what the internet has told me about what happens. It’s not a long and lengthy story about it - just the section where they tell their family about the good news and it’s all emotional and full of excitement. Lots of grandchildren being introduced in this story so, if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask questions to find out more.

Friends has been a huge help in the inspiration for Darcy’s storyline; with Monica and Chandler being unable to have kids, themselves. If there is anything that seems out of place, please, please tell me. 

Feedback is welcomed, as always.

Enjoy. xx

CHRISTMAS DAY, 2053. 1:30PM. HAMPSTEAD, LONDON.

The house was full. And it was just the way you liked it.

With four kids, close and over thirty, that had officially left home when they were twenty, that were split around London and the south, that were living their own lives and out in the world to fend for themselves, that had their own families to look after, it was rare to have them home for days on end.  Their bedrooms hadn’t been changed, massively, from how they’d left them - posters having been tacked from the walls and rolled up to be stored elsewhere, trinkets and trophies being stacked into boxes, reading books and photo albums, along with photo frames, being taken with them to start their new lives in new homes, the walls now covered in wallpaper rather than a matte finish and their bedsheets had changed from pinks and blues and purples to creams and dark blues and greys  - and they were empty, apart from canvas paintings from friendly artists and from birthday gifts, and ready to bring them comfort for the nights when they decided to stay.

Christmas Day’s and birthday’s being the times when they’d all congregate back into the home they grew up in. That was their first home, their first comforting place to hide away, their first place that held memories that picture frames and albums couldn’t contain. The heartfelt memories that were always fun to look back on; the Sunday mornings when Harry would wake them up with the sweetest of kisses and to inform them that pancakes were on the table, the packing for their holidays and the playful bickering about who was sitting next to who on the plane, the moments when they brought their partners home for the first time and everything had gone swell. The sweet memories that would always bring a tear to the eyes of those listening; the times when one would come home and want nothing but a hug and a cuddle from one of you, the nights when Rose was sick and just wanted cuddles because that’s how she felt better, the kisses and the cuddles shared, and the exchanging of presents that had been passed through generations of the family. The heartbreaking memories that, sometimes, they just wanted to forget about; their first heartaches and heartbreaks with boyfriends and girlfriends, the times when they’d come home and shatter because their days hadn’t gone so well, the death of a close family member that they loved dearly and couldn’t quite understand why they’d been taken away from them.

You cherished the times you got to spend with them.

Cherished every passing moment of every passing second of every passing hour. Cherished the knowledge that the house was full of your children and children married into your sweet family and grandchildren. Cherished the chats that you had over cups of tea and plates of biscuits and enjoyed the company... because it wouldn’t be long before you were saying your goodbyes and watching as they took off, down the roads of Hampstead, back towards their homes, leaving the large house feeling empty, despite yourself and Harry.

The living room had been taken over by two husbands, who had been left alone to mingle by their wives, and three young boys, who had been eager to catch up the sports highlights of the last week. The soft hum of their low chatter, as they discussed certain aspects, filtering through to the kitchen, the shrill of Grayson’s whines of frustration occasionally drowning out the cheers from a football game that played upon the telly, that would be soothed by the shushing and humming of Jack as he tried to calm his nephew down. The fire crackling and you’d, sometimes, hear the tinkle of beer bottles and glasses tinkle as they were placed upon the coffee table. 

Your husband was wandering with a new baby in his arms. Chatting to her and singing Christmas tunes to her, under his breath, as he fed her her dinner and burped her so she was ready to go down for a nap, chatting aimlessly to Connor when he’d drifted away from the sports, before completely revelling in the fact that it had been a long while since he’d held a baby in his arms. Always having found comfort in holding his grandchildren as newborns and spending the longest time with them because he couldn’t get enough of the tiny toes and the delicate fingers that would wrap around on his and the delicious sounds that came squeaking from within them. Letting her happily chew on his finger, or suckle on his thumb, and cosying her close when her face nudged into the hollow of his neck, lulled to silence from the bob in his step and the sway of his hips - a skill he’d learnt from all four of his own babies.

The den had been occupied by an uncle and a niece. Hadley having dragged Alfie away to cuddle with him and to cosy up with him as he slipped on their favourite Christmas movie; a tradition of theirs, that had happened every single year, from the moment she was born. Sharing a bowl of popcorn that he’d make sneakily, because he knew his mother and his sister would scold him for eating before dinner, and letting her have full control over holding the bowl. Speaking the lines before they were said on screen and laughing with one another.  

Three wives had been subdued to taking care of the dining room. Decorating the long table with placemats and chair covers, crackers being set at each seat and cutlery being placed in the right places, and making sure the wine glasses were smear-free and set on coasters, ready to be filled with the chosen wine for the dinner. Nattering amongst themselves as they filled each other in on what they’d gotten themselves up to. Persephone talking about her latest conquest in her interior designing; having been asked, by someone of high authority in the fame world, to decorate the lower level of their house. Ellie chatting about how Alfie had been asked to coach for Finn’s football team. And Rose chatting about how she was handling being a new mum to a brand-new little girl; asking for tips and pointers because she was new to everything.

Yourself having sided off to the kitchen to prepare a dinner that would soon be devoured by everyone. Christmas tunes humming from the radio, the smell of Christmas dinner filling the house and making stomachs rumble, and the smell of Christmas, itself, making its way to your nose and shooting a spark of festive through you.

“Can I offer my assistance in any way, my love?” Harry hummed from the entryway of the kitchen, a 4-month old Celine tucked into the crook of his arm as he gave her bum gentle pats to keep her soothed and comforted, and to keep her from crying, as well as to let her know that he was still there and crooning over her. Startling you and tearing you away from the distant bubble that you’d drifted into whilst stirring the soup for the starter meal. “Is dinner coming along okay?”

“I think you’re doing a wonderful job looking after Celine, there. I think you can sacrifice being my assistant for today,” you smiled warmly, looking over your shoulder as you continued to stir the tomato soup in the soup pan, bubbling away on the cooker. Filling the kitchen with a delicious aroma of spices and pureed tomato, dabbled with a little cream to make it sweeter, and the cooking meats in the oven for the Christmas dinner. “The girls have been popping in and out to help me, anyway. I think they may be huddling over the wine though. They’ve been sporting some pink teeth each time they come in.”

Harry snorted, adjusting the baby in the crook of his arm, as she whimpered at the change of position. Her face pushing into his upper arm, mouth open as a grizzle escaped, as it scrunched up before straightening back out.

“Are you sure you’re doing okay in here? I can put Celine down for her sleep or give her back to Connor,” he suggested, stepping further into the kitchen and siding up to you, wrapping his free arm around your shoulders to pull you, cosily, into his side, “I can get the potatoes going? Or cut up some vegetables for you? I know you like my potatoes cooked in beef fat.”

“I’m doing perfectly fine, mister. It’s not as hectic as I thought it was going to be. I thought I’d have the kids going crazy around me,” you dropped your hands from what they were doing, wiping them on your apron before rapping one hand around his waist. The other coming up to brush your fingertips along your grand-daughter’s downy hair, feeling the soft tufts tickle the tips, feather-light to the touch. “You’ve missed have babies in the house, haven’t you?”

“‘course I have. We’ve passed the stage of having our own babies so I’ve got to squeeze in the time with my little grandbabies, haven’t I?” He pressed his lips to your temple, letting them linger longer than normal, nose nudging into your hairline as you squeezed him closer to your side, “what time did Darcy say they were coming through? They’ll be here before we dish up dinner, yeah?”

The both of you had expected Darcy and Sam to arrive the day before Christmas Eve, the day before everyone else was scheduled to arrive, to squeeze in some time with the both of them before everyone else made their appearances. To see how they were doing because they’d been busy, to know how they were coping with the news of her infertility, and to make sure they were definitely and one hundred percent comfortable with Christmas Day, given how fresh the news had been for everyone. With a brand new baby in the house, you didn’t want to see one of your youngest girls feel overwhelmed because it was something she couldn’t, and would never be able to, have. Having set up the spare bedroom and made sure that their en-suite was full of shampoos and conditioners and shower gels so they needn’t worry about taking space in their bags with shower necessities, before they’d called and apologised about how plans were in need of changing, that Sam was needed, and that they wouldn’t arrive until the early afternoon of Christmas Day.

You nodded and pulled away from him.

“She phoned this morning and said they’d be here just after two. I said I’d be serving dinner at three so it gives them time to settle in, bring in presents, set up in the bedroom upstairs and mingle with everyone before we sit down,” you explained, “go sit yourself down. Go and mingle with the boys.”

“Where’s Alfie?”

“Hadley’s taken him into the den so they could watch some Christmas films,” your eyes glanced into the garden, taking note of the chilled atmosphere and the grey clouds that were starting to appear, covering the blue sheet and hiding the harsh sunlight from piercing through the windows. “I don’t think they were all that interested in watching the sports highlights from this week.”

“Neither were the kiddos. Finn and Grayson are passed out on the floor by the fire, Quentin is almost falling asleep on Jack, and both men are sporting the heavy eyes. Refusing to fall asleep, but, I reckon they’ll be out within the next ten minutes” Harry snickered, his head ducking down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, “I think we’ll go and see what the girls are doing, yeah? Shall we do that, little lady? Shall we go and see what your mummy is up to? Scold her getting into the wine?”

“I’m not in the wine, thank you very much,” Rose’s voice hollered from the dining room, her head poking round the doorframe, “have you put my daughter down at all today, Dad? I don’t want you spilling gravy on her when we sit down for dinner.”

“Within the blink of an eye, she’ll be as old as you and she’ll be as big as you, and I won’t get to hold her like this anymore. I’m making the most of it,” his socked feet took him across the tiles, slipping into the dining room to see his eldest daughter and his daughter-in-law perched at the head of the dining table. Setting the baby back into Rose’s arms with a kiss to his daughter’s cheek. “Mum thinks the three of you have been getting into the red wine.”

“We may have had a couple of glasses of the opened wine,” Persephone grinned, and to Harry’s vision, came the pink teeth that you’d told him of. Tilting her glass in his direction and sending him a wink, as he shook his head in amusement, “Come sit down for a glass, Dad. We’ve just been chatting about our funniest Christmas days. Do you remember the day when Alfie dropped his Christmas dinner down his front? And you let him have a sip of his mulled wine and it sent him on a rush, all day? You thought you’d gotten him drunk,” she cackled.

Harry chuckled lightly. Arms feeling empty as he watched the youngest of his twins cradle her baby, his heart bursting before he spun around, pressing a kiss to Ellie’s cheek before cupping Persephone’s shoulder, hunching over to press a kiss to the top of her head.

“Your mum banned me from having any more mulled wine that day. Your aunt found it funny, I kept asking you to sneak me some glasses, and your poor nan was taking the wrath of Alfie’s excitement,” he reminded her, settling himself down on the chair beside her and wordlessly thanking her for the glass of wine she’d poured for him, “had me on the water for the rest of the night.”

CHRISTMAS DAY, 2053. 2:30PM.

The doorbell, followed by a thumping knock to the front door, filled the house. Surprising you as you checked on the turkey cooking in the oven, a chorus of ‘that must be Darcy’ coming from the dining room as the conversation came to a sudden halt, startling Jack and Connor from their snoozes on the sofa and exciting the three young boys as they shot to their feet in a haste to be the first to open the front door. Hadley’s head poking from around the door of the den as she looked in the direction of the front door, Alfie’s head not too far from following, as the both of them, eagerly, watched the commotion go down. A cheerful ‘hello’ filtering down the hallway as Sam entered, followed by his wife as she carried bags of presents, and balanced a tin of peppermint brownies on her hip.

“Come on, let us through, you buggers.”

Sam’s voice came as the door closed shut with a heavy thud. Excited yells and squeals coming from the two youngest boys as Sam lifted them up, one under each arm, and carried them into the living room, as Finn snuggled underneath Darcy’s free arm, taking the tin of brownies from under her arm. Dropping them onto the sofa before shaking hands with the two men, now, sat upright. Perching on the arm of the chair, sending his wife a smile as she left the present bags, and their personal belongings, at the bottom of the stairs, for him to take up. Striding into the kitchen with her nephew under her arm.

“Merry Christmas, Mum,” she hummed, as Finn wriggled from her side to set the brownies upon the counter, her arms wrapping around you as you welcomed her with a tight hug, “sorry that we’re a bit late. There was traffic, an accident on the motorway or something. We would have been here before twelve because Sam finished early.”

“That’s okay, sweet girl. Dinner’s still on track for three,” you squeezed her cheeks and watched as they blushed, “still staying through till New Year?”

“If you want us to,” she grinned, pulling away from you, “where’s Dad? He’s usually the first to greet everyone.”

You pointed towards the dining room archway, a knowing nod coming from Darcy, as she grinned.

“He’s gotten into the wine, hasn’t he?”

“Surprisingly, it was your sister and Ellie who cracked it open first. He just joined in with them, not too long ago, actually. It’s better than him trying to steal bits and pieces from the dinner,” you laughed, casting your eyes over to Finn as he finished up the last bite of the brownie he’d stolen from the tin, “mister, what are you doing, you cheeky thing?” You teased playfully, stepping over to him to wipe his mouth with the pads of your thumbs. Darcy sneaking away to side into the dining room. “Don’t go telling your mum you’ve had one, okay? She’ll go bonkers.”

*

“Hey, there’s my little rebel,” Harry chortled, standing to his feet and leaving behind his half-empty wine glass, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her to his front, “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling the prickle of his stubble against the soft flesh before pulling away, “you’re supposed to be helping Mum with the dinner, not having a Mother’s Meeting in the dining room.”

“We have been helping,” he hummed, giving her a tighter squeeze to his front before unravelling his arms from around her, “how was the drive here? Was it good?”

“We hit some traffic on the way but it was pretty smooth,” she nodded, keeping an arm snaked around his waist, “Sam might need some help taking our stuff upstairs. And we have presents in the hallway but we don’t know where to put them. Thought we’d leave that to you.”

He cleared his throat, “do you want a glass of wine? We’re finishing off the open bottle before dinner.”

She nodded and took a seat at the table.

“I’d love one, thanks.”

CHRISTMAS DAY, 2053. 4PM.

The opportunity rose just after dessert had finished.

A quarter of a Christmas pudding, half of a Victoria sponge, a couple of Darcy’s peppermint brownies, a jug full of cream and a jug full of custard, both with dribbles of their content rolling down the sides, were left behind in the middle of the table, being picked at, every so often, and eyed up by those who were hungry but didn’t want to make themselves look greedy by going in for more. The kids having escaped from the table and found comfort, spread out in the den, with flicking through the telly to find something to watch for the afternoon, until everyone settled in the living room for a board game night. Having been a tradition for the Styles family since before Harry was born. Mouths tasting sweet and chocolate still sticking to the corners of their lips, having devoured more than plenty of brownies and ice-cream.

Darcy stayed, cosied, beneath Sam’s arm, as he idly conversed with Connor, sipping on her new glass of wine, white rather than the red that she’d had upon her arrival. The room was silent. Screaming out for them to share the news; news that hadn’t quite settled in their minds yet. That didn’t quite feel real. Because this time, next year, they’d have another child, to spoil rotten with presents. Another to include in the festivities. Another to cuddle with and muck around with. Another child to form traditions with.

She looked up at Sam as he looked down at her, smiling encouragingly, as she cleared her throat and sat up. All eyes and everyone’s attention shifting to her.

“Darce? You alright?” Harry wondered, setting his wine glass on the table. Eyes darting betweens yours and his daughters. “Darcy?”

She smiled softly and nodded.

“We have some news to share,” she announced. Harry’s eyes settling upon your wide orbs as you made contact with his. Sam’s hand squeezing hers tightly, for reassurance and to let her know that, if she needed him to take over, he was there in a heartbeat. “We’ve been going on a really gruelling process of adoption, over the last year, as you know. We’ve had meetings, house visits, interviews, and everything you could possibly imagine,” she looked across to Rose as she cradled Celine in her arms, a smile twitching up her lips, “and this time next year, we’ll be celebrating, hopefully, with another child in the house because, we, uh, we’ve been told that we’ve been approved.”

She didn’t realise that tears were building in her eyes until she blinked and felt one roll down her cheek, the softest of laughs, but it could have been a sob, escaping her parted lips. Her father shooting up from his chair, followed by you, as the both of you made your way around to her and Sam. Persephone’s lips quirking into a grin as she looked across to Rose, both sporting a look of pride and happiness for their sister. Harry’s arms wrapping her up into a hug as you gladly welcomed Sam against your front, hands rubbing his back soothingly, as he squeezed you.

“There’s a young girl, up in Manchester, linked with the agency we’ve signed through. She’s a teenager, seventeen, and she and her family are struggling for money. She’s single, and there’s no chance that she, nor her family, would be able to support and look after the child. They’re against abortion and chose adoption and they chose us, not too long ago,” Sam gushed excitedly, swiping his thumb beneath your eyes as he caught a tear that dribbled from the ducts, “it’s a little girl. She wanted us to know that. Healthy and everything. Growing perfectly. And, she’s due in the new year. End of January, we’ve been told.”

“That’s fantastic news,” Harry croaked, swaying his body from side to side as he kept a close hold upon his daughter. Her eyes seeping with tears, making the hollow of his neck damp, gripping tightly to the sweater that sat upon his torso. “Hey, hey. Don’t cry, sweetheart. This is bloody brilliant. You’re finally going to be a mum.”

“Happy tears, Dad,” she whispered wetly, sniffling and wiping her nose into the sleeve of her hoodie, as she pulled away from him. His thumbs attaching to the apples of her cheeks as he wiped away the moisture. “I’m going to make you a grandad again,” she giggled, his lips pressing against her forehead, “Merry Christmas.”

“Come here, my sweet girl. Let me have a cuddle,” you cooed, arms wide as you waited for her body to collide with yours. Chin resting upon your shoulder as Sam scooted and shuffled in the direction of Harry. Hand stretched out as they shook hands. “Darcy, this is wonderful news. This is why you’ve been so busy? God, you’re a menace for making us worry to death about you working too hard.”

“We couldn’t spoil it. We thought it would have been perfect to surprise you with,” she snickered, holding onto you tightly, “we were thinking that you and dad could come up to Manchester, with us, before the baby’s born, to meet her. She’s the sweetest thing, Mum. She’s so nervous and we’ve been doing everything we can to make her feel as comfortable as possible,” she pulled away and allowed you to press a kiss to her cheek, hands cupping her face, “I’m finally going to be a mummy, Mum. We’re getting a baby.”

“It’s a Christmas miracle, isn’t it?” You crooned, laughing softly as she nodded, cheerfully.

A Christmas miracle... indeed.

[berrynarrybanana]

common cold // nh

Here’s 4.1 k of shameless fluffy dad!niall stuff about his little one being sick and I’m not sure that I wrote in enough Niall but i hope that it was good and that you all like it and feedback is always appreciated! Thank you for the request anon! 

Niall was care-free.

He didn’t let little things get to him and he could keep his head in most stressful situations. You’d seen him be the only one to laugh and smile after three flights and four shows had been canceled for the band like it was just another Monday in paradise. He had that personality that made him happy by default, it automatically switched on when he noticed things were getting too serious to quick. You’d only ever seen him really worry a handful of times and when Niall was worried, it made you scared. He would go stone faced and he’d fiddle with his fingers and his hands, like he didn’t know exactly what to do with them. You hated when Niall was worried about anything, but it seemed that from the moment your daughter was conceived, all he could do was worry about her.

When you fell sick during your pregnancy he flew home from Los Angeles, leaving an entire album alone to be with you when you were admitted to the hospital. When she was born four weeks earlier than her due date and had to be kept in the NICU for a week or two to make sure that all of her organs were functioning well enough on her own, he lost twenty pounds and nearly landed himself in the hospital due to hydration. She was the one thing he was always worried about.

So you knew when Maeve fell ill with a cold, he’d be just as worried.

It started on a Monday when you picked Maeve up from daycare. Every single kid in the whole place was sniffling and coughing like mad. There was a waiver for you to read over and sign saying that the daycare would be closed Tuesday through Wednesday so that they could disinfect everything properly and give the children there a chance to recoup at home. Maeve wasn’t sick then, but you had a hunch that with her weak immune system, she would be. And you were right. Tuesday morning you woke up to a congested and miserable Maeve crying like a banshee.

“What’s all this fuss about little girl,” You cooed, rushing into her nursery with your hair mused and tired eyes. “Hey now, it’s alright, what’s going on?”

She couldn’t talk back to you just yet, she was only nine months old. She had a grasp on a few words like Dada and Mummm or words like up and no and yes. She was really just babbling at this age, not really speaking the words clearly. But it was clear she was babbling for her Daddy as she bounced in her crib, her little hands gripping the rail as she wailed out, her cheeks red and her eyes wet.

“It’s okay,” You lifted her up into your arms, rubbing her back gently as she gripped your shirt and wailed into your ear. “Are you not feeling well, little one? Do you feel icky?”

You hated having to lay her down on her changing table as she cried louder and louder, kicking her legs as you unbuttoned her onesie, talking to her to try and keep her calm. Niall was at work and he probably wouldn’t be home until late afternoon. You’d taken the two days off so that you could watch over Maeve while the daycare was closed which was a hassle for you at work, but worth it. You missed those days where it was just you and Maeve at home all day, hanging out together.

“You do feel a bit warm sweetheart,” You mumbled, pressing your hand to the back of her forehead as she wailed and reached up with grabby hands. “Are you having trouble breathing through your nose too? Mumma might know how to fix that for you, yeah? Let’s give it a little try my love, maybe Mumma can make it better?”

You finished changing her into a fresh nappy, putting on a light pair of baby sweatpants and a light t-shirt on. You wanted to keep her warm from the chill of the house in the morning, but you knew she was overheated already. You lifted her up as you went over to her little baby first aid basket that Denise had fixed up for you as a shower gift. You’d never had to use it, but everything was brand new and it had a fair few things you knew that you could use with Maeve. You grabbed the Vick’s rub for babies and the little snot bubble with a burp cloth before walking back to the changing table. You set Maeve down, pushing her little shirt up as you rubbed a small amount of the Vick’s on her chest before you pulled her shirt back down. She was still crying, but these were more hiccup-y crocodile tears, an after effect of her earlier meltdown. When you’d cleared her nose up, you lifted her up into your arms, kissing her forehead as you walked downstairs with her.

“Let’s get you some breakfast while Mumma calls Aunt Gwen, yeah?” You cooed, rubbing over her belly gently as you entered your kitchen. Gwen was your best friend and Maeve’s pediatrician. She’d been there when Maeve was delivered and nearly every day after that. She was a regular in Maeve’s life and she loved her Aunt Gwen. “What do you want this morning? Peaches and Cream porridge? Does that sound appetizing today my love?”

She sniffled, looking up at you with those blue eyes that her Father always gave you when he’d pissed you off or he wasn’t feeling well. You chuckled, kissing her forehead as you walked over to her little high chair that was attached to the breakfast bar. As soon as you set her down she started to whimper, looking around as her lower lip wobbled. You did your best to get her breakfast ready as she whined and whimpered, ready to break out into a wail again as your phone started to ring in your sweatpants pocket. You groaned, slipping the little bowl of porridge in the microwave before you pulled her little bottle of milk out of the warmer, shaking it as you walked over to her.

“Hey,” You said quickly, not even bothering to check the I.D.

“Hey,” Niall chuckled. “Tha’s a new greetin’ for me. No ‘Good Mornin’ love of me life, I’ve missed ya terribly, please come home’?”

“Sorry,” You rolled your eyes, fighting off a smile as Maeve took her bottle, tilting it back as she looked up at you. You brushed your fingers over the hair on her head, the one part of her besides her cheeks and her nose that was all you. “Good morning love of my life, how are you today?”

“Doin’ well,” He said cautiously. “What’s going on? Busy mornin’ with Maeve?”

“Sounds like a great name for a morning talk show, we should advertise that,” You said, rolling your lips in as you tried your best to avoid having to tell him that it seemed Maeve had come down with a cold.

“She could throw bananas at her guests and teach them how to roll over,” He chuckled, but you could tell it was more of a nervous one. “How’s Maeve this mornin’?”

“She’s a little congested and warm,” You sighed as you walked over to the microwave, pulling her breakfast out before you grabbed a spoon. “I’m gonna call Gwen and see if she suggests anything to help her get over it.”

“She’s not miserable is she?” He asked quickly. “I can always come home and offer up some cuddles, I’m sure that’ll make her better.”

“You stay at work and finish that song,” You scolded him gently, sitting next to Maeve as you scooped up some porridge, your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder. “Everything is under control here and if anything changes I promise to call you first.”

“Thank you,” He chuckled. “That girl is gonna give me my first grey hair, I swear.”

“I think that was written in the ‘So You Have a Daughter, Now What?’ handbook,” You teased him, smiling down at Maeve as she lowered her bottle, opening her mouth. “Right next to the section on, ‘What to do when you realize you know nothing about girls, dude,’ section.”

“I believe that section was also in the ‘So Now You’re Dating a Super Fit Woman With an Amazing Smile and You Think You Want To Marry Her, Now What?’ book you got me,” He chuckled.

“I see that book has come in handy,” You chuckled. “Get back to work, babe, I love you.”

“Love you too, darlin’,” He laughed. “Give Maeve a kiss for me.”

“I will,” You scooped another spoonful of porridge up, slipping it into Maeve’s mouth. Most of it fell on her chin so you had to scoop it back up, scrunching up your nose as she chewed the porridge happily. “Bye, Ni.”

“G’bye darlin’.”

“Your daddy is silly,” You mumbled, putting your phone down as you focused on feeding your daughter the rest of her breakfast. “How is breakfast, huh? S’this a good selection today?”

“Hmummmm,” She cooed out, reaching for the spoon in your hand.

“You wanna feed yourself?” You smiled, your brows raised up as you set the bowl down. “Give it a go then, let’s see how you do.”

You watched with a smile as she dropped the spoon into the bowl of porridge, looking a little bit happier than she did earlier that morning. She couldn’t quite scoop up the porridge onto her spoon so you tried to show her, but then came the struggle of trying to get it into her mouth. You chuckled as you watched her for a few more minutes, not so much worrying about how she was warm anymore. She seemed to be back to her normal self so you weren’t too worried. You’d just keep an eye on her throughout the day and check her temperature occasionally to make sure she was okay.

But as a Mother, you still couldn’t help but worry as you brushed a glob of porridge of her chin, her shiny blue eyes looking back up at you as if she didn’t get why you were so worried.

You could only hope that she hadn’t caught a cold.

//

By noon, Maeve was right back to sleep.

You’d spent the morning playing with her in her nursery while you stayed on the phone with Denise. Theo had gotten his first cold just a little before nine months and he’d been getting them on and off since then. Denise was basically the best at handling babies with colds and you figured she’d have some insight on how to handle Maeve’s congestion and cough. She suggested the Vick’s and some baby saline spray for her nose, but to keep an eye on her temperature to ensure it wasn’t something more than just her runny nose and cough. By noon, you had her all tucked up in her crib, back asleep like she’d been awake for 24 hours instead of just five.

You thought maybe you’d be able to get a little bit of work done in your home office with the help of the baby monitor, but before you could even really get invested in a project, you could hear your front door open. With furrowed brows, you stood up, grabbing your phone and the monitor as you walked back out into the hall and into the living room where Niall was walking in from the foyer with furrowed brows and a gentle frown on his lips. You shook your head softly, as you caught his gaze, a smile on your lips as he looked at you like he was confused. You loved how caring he could be and how he looked when he was concerned. You knew he skipped out on finishing his song by the guilty look on his face as he smiled sheepishly up at you.

“Finished it early?” He fibbed, smiling as you laughed softly, dropping the monitor and your phone on the couch just beside you. “I couldn’t stop worryin’ sue me! Ya said she might be gettin’ a cold and ya know how bad I am when I’m sick! Didn’t wan’ ya here all alone if she was miserable, I know ya have work to do.”

“I do,” You sighed as he slipped his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek as you dropped your arms over his shoulders. “But she seems to be okay. I don’t think it’s a cold, just a runny nose and a slight fever. Denise gave me some tips and she’s up there napping away as we speak.”

“That’s good,” Niall blew out a relieved sigh, shaking his head before he looked back up at you. “I swear, she’s gonna put me in an early grave. M’always so worried about her.”

“And just think, she’s only nine months old now,” You bit your lower lip, trying to contain your laughter as Niall frowned. “Think about when she starts walking and then there’s school and then driving and then dating.”

“Tha’s enough outta ya,” Niall leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours a few times. “None o’ that for another thirty years.”

“Might be a little sooner than that,” You pressed your lips to his again. “But I’ll be right here with you the whole time, we’ll deal with it together.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, brushing his nose against yours. “Have ya got a minute?”

“A minute?” You quirked your brow up, smirking. “Are you insinuating that we can have sex in just one minute?”

“I’m gonna spank ya if ya don’t stop bein’ so sassy,” He warned playfully, squeezing his arms around you as he pulled you closer. “Was gonna suggest we have lunch together before the little one is up, but if ya wanna sneak away and have a little fun-“

“You know I’m always up for it,” You whispered, your body kicking over into that gear that only switched on when Niall was around. “S’been a hot minute since we’ve had time together.”

“Think we should send Maeve to Auntie Gwen’s for the weekend?” He tilted his head, pressing a soft kiss on the hollow of your neck, slowly moving his lips down as you sighed. “F’she’s no’ sick of course.”

“Yes,” You moaned softly, tilting your head back as he backed you up to the sofa, his hips pressing into yours as your eyes slipped shut. “I like that plan.”

“Gonna make it to the bedroom, darlin’?” He chuckled, nipping at your neck as he slipped a hand up your shirt. “Or am I going to have to take you here?”

“Here,” You gasped out, clutching his shoulders as you started to feel that familiar burning in your lower abdomen, that need for him so present now that he was around. “I want you now.”

“Yeah?” You nodded as Niall smirked, his hands pushing your sweatpants down your legs. You’d stopped being shy around Niall ages ago and after having a baby with him, you’d become completely at peace around him. So you knew he wouldn’t mind and you wouldn’t be self-conscious of your fuzzy legs and your old panties and your imperfections. You gasped as he lifted you up from your hips, sitting you on the back of the couch just behind you with a soft grunt. He wasn’t a buff guy, but he wasn’t weak. He could still toss you around if you wanted it. “Gonna fuck you on the back of the couch? Right here?”

“Please,” You could feel your body reacting his words as he pressed his lips to yours harshly again. You moaned softly, reaching up to pull his damn paddy cap off, tossing it aside in hopes that it would get lost for a while. You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging softly as he kissed you harder, his hand slipping between your soft and thick thighs to rub over your panties. “I love your hands, so much.”

“They love ya too, darlin’,” He hummed softly as he glanced between your bodies, his fingers tugging your panties aside so that he could slip his finger up your center. But before he could even get there, you heard Maeve’s cries through the monitor behind you.

“Fuck,” You bit your lip, hopping off the couch as you looked at Niall with a frown. His eyes were still wide, but this wasn’t out of pleasure, it was shock. The moment had been interrupted and you were both still left panting. “I’ve got her.”

“M’gonna go….” He lost his train of thought as you wiggled into your sweatpants. “Fuck, gonna drink some cold water and cool down.”

“Okay,” You chuckled, leaving the monitor and your phone on the couch as you rubbed your hands over your face, trying not to laugh too hard at what was going on. “I’m sure she’s just in need of a change.”

“Yeah,” Niall nodded as you started walking up the steps to your left, your hand on the railing. You could tell he was watching you jog up the stairs by how he was cursing under his breath and groaning as you laughed. “Don’ laugh at me!”

“I’m sorry, it’s funny,” You chuckled as you finished jogging up the steps, Maeve’s crying louder with each step closer to her nursery door. Something seemed different about her cries this time. This morning they seemed more like ‘Mum, please come get me I’m hungry and not feeling well’ tears but these tears were more like ‘Mum help, I’m really not feeling well’. As you pushed into her nursery, your heart ached at the sight of her. “Hey little one, what’s going on?”

She babbled louder, her cries shrill and her tears still flowing. You frowned, walking over to pick her up. You pressed a kiss to her forehead, rubbing her back as you frowned at how warm she felt. You pulled back, reaching up with your hand to make sure that she felt warm and it wasn’t just you. You cooed softly, bouncing your knees as you walked over to the little cold kit, pulling out the thermometer. You walked towards the stairs with furrowed brows, worried about just how warm she really was. She didn’t feel that warm earlier and maybe you should have kept better track over just how warm she was by recording her temperature. You didn’t really think it through.

“Niall,” You said his name quickly as you walked into the kitchen, clutching Maeve to your chest as she continued to wail. “Niall! I think you should call Gwen. Maeve is really warm and I don’t…. I should have been paying more attention, she’s really warm and she seems like she’s in pain and-“ Niall’s brows were furrowed as you walked over to him, your emotions written in the way you were frowning and the fear in your eyes. “I’m such a shit Mom, I can’t believe I didn’t think to record her temperature so that I could-“

“It’s okay,” Niall said quickly, jumping into the leading roll. You thought maybe you’d have to keep him calm, but it seemed it was the other way around. “I’ll call Gwen, you take Maeve’s temperature, alright?”

//

“She’s gonna need to go to the emergency room guys,” Gwen said softly, brushing her hand over Maeve’s head as your little one played with the stethoscope. It was the only thing that kept her quiet while Gwen looked her over. “Her fever is really high and I know her heartbeat sounds good, but because she was a preemie, I think it’s affected her immune system. This cold is hitting her a little harder than it should be.”

“Shit,” You cursed, ducking your head down as Niall gripped your hip tighter. “Fuck, I can’t believe I didn’t think about that.”

“It’s okay,” Gwen said softly, looking at Niall as you sighed, rubbing your hands over your face. “It doesn’t make you a bad Mum because you didn’t assume the worst. You had no way of knowing how her body would progress. This is her first cold!”

“And I didn’t even think to monitor her!”

“Who would?” Gwen countered back. “Sometimes people slip up, it’s okay.”

“Gwen, that’s my daughter,” You cried out, shaking your head. “What if it was worse than just a high temperature right now?”

“What if a meteor hit the earth in ten seconds?” She raised her brows as you felt Niall shaking his head. You glanced back at him to see him fighting off a small smile. “It’s okay, just take her in to the emergency care unit so they can give you a proper diagnosis and they can give her a proper prescription to help her fight this off.”

“Thank you, Gwen,” Niall said as Gwen packed up her stuff, smiling up at the two of you. It hurt, but you couldn’t help but think she didn’t understand how shitty you felt right now. “Do you think we should take her in though? The germs and what not might not be good for her?”

“She should be fine if you sit in an empty area and bring her own toys.” Gwen reassured, grabbing her bag as Niall let go of you to grab Maeve off the kitchen counter. Gwen walked up to with a sympathetic smile on her lips. “I know I can’t put myself in your shoes, but she’s just got a cold and I would tell you if it was serious.”

“I know that, Gwen,” You said softly, sighing. “I just feel like shit.”

“Well don’t,” She pulled you into a hug, kissing your cheek. “She’s going to be fine.”

“And if she isn’t?” You frowned as she pulled back, reaching up to pinch the tip of your nose.

“We’ll work through it.”

//

“Can we talk?”

Maeve did indeed just have a cold. It did hit her a little harder do to her slightly weaker immune system and that meant that it might take longer for her to recover, but you left the hospital with a prescription for the right dosage of medicine and instructions to monitor her temperature throughout the night. When you finally got home, Maeve was exhausted and you and Niall had no trouble getting her into the house and keeping her asleep as you put her in her crib. But you couldn’t walk away. You wanted to stand there all night to make sure that she was going to be okay.

“Darlin’ we have the monitor on,” Niall said softly, reaching out for your hand. “C’mon, let’s get to bed, you look exhausted.”

“I don’t want to leave her,” You sniffled, leaning back into him.

“She’s sleeping,” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Darlin’, I know you think this was because of you, but-“

“It’s always because of me,” You looked back up at him with sad eyes. “Niall, I went into labor early with her and that’s made her immune system so weak.”

“You didn’t cause the common cold, Darlin’,” He chuckled softly, turning you around in his arms. “I didn’t notice that she wasn’t feeling well this morning when I came in here to tell her goodbye, I kissed her forehead and everything and I was none the wiser. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I just feel like a bad Mom Niall, I didn’t even know how to make her feel better when she was miserable. That’s literally my job as her Mom,” You sniffled as a tear fell down your cheek. Niall reached up to swipe it away with a gentle smile on his lips.

“You’re an amazing Mom,” Niall said sternly. “I know sometimes this parenting thing is really difficult and it feels like we suck, but we love her to death and she loves us too. We’re pretty great parent’s darlin’ and we can’t let one little cold throw us.”

“I think I was due for a Mommy break down,” You chuckled, leaning into him. “I just… I worry about her a lot too, Niall.”

“I know ya do,” Niall mumbled softly. “You’re such a great Mother darlin’, I want ya to know that.”

“Thank you,” You said, far too sleepy to lift your head and give him a proper kiss. Hearing him say that made you feel a lot better, though it didn’t solve the issue at hand. You knew that sometimes you were going to feel like a shitty mom, it was part of the job. Knowing that you had Niall in your life during moments like these, that was what made you feel better.

He was your ball of sunshine, your rock, your support system.

And you were extremely glad to have him around in times like this.