#which i guess was to be expected but they said they'd let me have a practise day and didn't even let me do that

[youraverageaemondsimp]

“Be Quiet.” // DILF!Aemond Targaryen x Babysitter!Reader // PART ONE.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! (+200 now) so here is the awaited fic, celebrating a milestone <3 based on this poll, dilf aemond won at the end haha 💞

MDNI

WARNINGS: unprotected p in v sex, dubcon(?), oral (both f and m.), blowjob, cum eating, cum play(?), breeding kink, multiple orgasms, age gap (9ish years), DILF aemond, single father aemond, power imbalance(?), throat fucking, cunnilingus, lots and lots of kissing, + not proofread

WC: 7.1k (yeah...)

« part two // 🎄 special »

Getting fired from your job while trying to pay rent and gathering tuition fees isn't exactly ideal, you wanted to pursue a bachelor's degree after high school, but you didn't have enough money, coming from a family that was barely held by, nor were you eligible to apply for student because there were legal issues.

You moved out of your parents not wanting to financially burden them anymore, renting a decent apartment with just enough space for you to call it a 'home' you've been working for the past 2 years, a decent paying job but it was enough to get by and save up on the fees too, everything seemed to be going perfect until you suddenly got fired and your landlord decided to increase the rent.

You knew you'd have to cut into your savings to pay rent now, but you didn't want that, you halfway there to your goal, you were expected to get promoted and get higher pay, you calculated it, that it would only take one more year for you get enough amount to pay for the first few sems, and then maybe you'll be able to apply for a student loan by then.

But fate had different plans, and here you were on your couch scrolling through multiple apps to find any type of job, extremely desperate.

And that's when you saw it.

“Babysitter needed.” you thought how perfect of a job it would be considering the degree you wanted to so badly was based in psychology, child psychology specifically, and interacting with kids will probably give you some type of experience?

You quickly clicked on it and found the contact number, and decided to call it, you bit your lips nervously hoping they'd pick up.

“Hello?” you heard a cool voice say which sent shivers down your spine.

“Hello- yes uhm, Hi! I am calling because I saw the post on the app that said you needed a babysitter for hire?” you stumble over your words and mentally facepalm yourself for it.

“Yes, indeed. Are you interested in applying?” he asks and you quickly reply with a yes.

“Do you have any prior experience?” he asks and you reply with a quick yes, you've babysat a few kids throughout your highschool era for quick cash, as a way to not rely on your parents for menial things.

“Mhm alright, I don't want to bring your hopes up by saying you got a job, I'd like to have a personal interview first, if you do not mind.” he says and you say, thanking him and he hangs up the call.

You were fucking shaking.

It felt like applying for the first job of your life all again, the nervousness, the anxiety, the everything.

Aemond had saved your phone number and sent it to his assistant, Floris, asking her to run a background check on you, and to see if you had any criminal background, he read your name on the file that got delivered to him, sipping on his coffee while he scanned through your details.

You just turned 21, recently.

‘So young’ he thought, ‘Let me guess, she's probably looking for jobs in order to afford education.’ he guessed and he was exactly on the money with that one.

He wasn't that old himself, barely 30

He inherited his father's business at just age 23, being the only one capable of handling such pressure, his elder siblings couldn't stand a chance against him, and since then, he's maintained the Targaryen name perfectly.

He remembers falling in love with a woman older than him, he was 24, she attended one of the business parties he dreaded going to, Alys rivers was her name, they dated for 2 years before deciding to pace things up and get engaged since everything was going perfect for both of them.

Until Alys got pregnant, Aemond was overjoyed when he heard that news, but he didn't know that the child would suck the life out of her.

She died giving birth to their son, and he was devastated, being heart broken by her death, however he never once blamed his child, it was their choice to birth him, and it failed miserably.

But 3 years had passed since her death and he had moved on from her death, ready to love once again, yet it was extremely hard to find someone that wasn't after his money.

He knew he couldn't just live in the misery of heartbreak, and Alys would've wanted him to move on too.

His son, Aenys, recently turned 3 too, he inherited Aemond's purple eyes and silver blonde hair, typical targ features, but he saw how the softness of his nose, sharpness of his eyes resembled his mother.

But back to you at hand, he went through all your papers deeming you fit for the interview, he called a day later telling you the address where the interview would be held, his office.

Yes, his fucking office, as if you were applying for a job at his company, he justified it by saying that you were technically his employee.

When you got out of the taxi and looked at the company in front of you, it finally clicked in your brain that your employee was none other than Aemond Targaryen, and it only made your anxiety worse.

You went to the receptionist and told her your name, and she typed it in, giving you a small smile, telling you that you were exactly on time. She called his office to tell you that you were here and led you to his office. You looked around and noticed how big this company was, a bunch of employees working in their cubicles, typing away.

“Mr. Targaryen?” she called out and you heard a small ‘come in.’ Before stepping inside and pushing the door open for you to enter, you did and she stepped outside, closing it gently behind you, leaving you alone in the room with the man.

Aemond hadn't looked up from his files until the door closed, and when he did, he felt his breath caught in his throat.

“You may sit.” he says and you nod, sitting across him on the opposite side of the table, you felt so small under his gaze, it was so intimidating but you put up with it.

He began the interview by asking questions about yourself, and all relevant things, but there was one question that caught you off guard.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks and you furrow your brows, “Excuse me?” you question, noticing how odd of a question it is.

“Don't get me wrong, the previous babysitter had one, and she used to bring him to the apartment and…” he cleared his throat and you immediately caught on to what he was implying, “Oh! No! I do not have one, and even if I did I would not do that!” you reassure him and he gives you a nod.

He was fucking lying.

But you didn't know that.

The previous babysitter was an old lady, who Aenys liked a lot, but sadly she had to leave the city.

“I hope you know that you're expected to work full time? I leave for the office at 9AM and return back at 7PM, and you'll need to be ready to work those long hours, and sometimes I might not even return till late at night if there is extra work.” he says and you nod, and before the question can leave your mouth he cuts you off.

“Do not worry, you'll be paid for those extra hours.” he confirms and you nod smiling at him.

And then came your terms, which he agreed to, he made you sign a one year contract, and you did it without hesitation.

Frankly the pay was so high you would barely need to work 6 months to reach the full amount, but you still did an extra 6 months considering how having extra money at hand doesn't hurt.

And with a handshake, he accepted you.

You were practically going to spend most of your awake time with the kid, it sounds hectic but the pay was too good to pass up on, I mean, $80 per hour? fuck yes, you'd be having around $230k by the end of the contract. Aemond was filthy rich.

It was finally your day to go to his house and you already knew it was going to be big, but you were still shocked when you arrived to the destination, it was a 20 minute drive from your house, and it was located in the richest neighbourhood to exist in the city, you felt embarrassed getting out of your taxi at an area where everyone probably had their own cars, heck, a collection of them even, but you paid the fare and the guard got up to question you, you told him and he quickly nodded before letting you inside.

It was early in the morning, you came quickly so Aemond could show you around the house and introduce you to his kid, you stood there nervously as you rang the doorbell, Aemond had checked through the security camera before the door opened, revealing the house interior.

You quickly stepped in and he closed the door behind you. You expected him to have maids and a bunch of staff, but you were surprised when you found none. No wonder he asked if you can cook, you'd probably be doing all the work here besides the cleaning.

“Aenys is in his playroom, let me take you there.” he says cooly and you follow him, taking in your surroundings.

He opens the door to the playroom and you immediately find a kid, who you assumed to be older than 2, playing with his dragon toys, making rawr sounds, and yelling the word ‘dracarys.’ you smiled at the cuteness.

Aemond cleared his throat which caught the attention of Aenys and he smiled brightly before he jumped in his arms, “Papa!” he yelled, before he turned his attention to you and looked at his father in question

“Hey aeny, do you know how the previous babysitter had to leave town?” he asks gently and Aenys nods, “And papa needs to be away for work top right? So I got you a new babysitter who will take care of you.” he points towards you, explaining and Aenys looks at you tilting his head slightly

“Hey, Aenys.” you give him a small, waving your hand, he shyly waves back before he hides his face his fathers chest, you chuckle at the cuteness.

“I'll go give her a house tour okay? And then I will visit you once again before I leave, have fun darling.” He says and puts his son down, and Aenys looks at you once again, inspecting you, observing you, you smile at him once again, and this time he gives you a shy smile.

Aemond leaves the room and you wave a quick temporary goodbye to Aenys and follow him.

“Aenys, doesn't have a mother, or at least he had to grow up without one” Aemond randomly begins and you look at him confused. “My fiancee-” he sighs before halting his footsteps, “She- she had died while giving birth to him.” you watch as he takes deep breaths, “It's okay if you don't want to talk about it now, we have a lot of time anyway, just open up to me when you are ready, sir.” you tell him and he looks at you, giving you a nod and resumes the house tour.

It was fucking big.

Just like he said, he visited his son once more before leaving for work and the entire day you spent it with Aenys, getting to know him, observing his behaviour.

You noted that he was extremely shy at first but then he eventually warmed up to you, he still had his guard up of course since you were fairly new and a stranger in his life, you introduced yourself and he did the same.

He showed you all his toy collections, which you were genuinely fascinated by, he had so many dragon figurines and remembered each one by their name, his favourite was vhagar.

“It waass papa's once, when he was jus like mee.” he babbled cutely, the way he pronounced the words were so cute too, you swear you could die at it.

“Vhagar belonged to your papa?” you felt awkward saying the word papa, but you knew you had to considering that it was the term Aenys was used to, he nodded, smiling.

“Yesh! He gwave it to meh.” he says and you smile.

Aenys had quite a developed vocabulary for his age, though he pronunciation was a bit off, but you knew it would improve with time.

And just like that, you and Aenys grew close, he was always cheery to see you, you cooked and looked after him, feeding him vegetables in a way he would enjoy, and Aemond was surprised when he found out, considering Aenys refused to eat vegetables.

You put Aenys to sleep one day, singing him a lullaby and caressing his hair as he fell asleep in his bed, he watched you with big doe eyes, which were slowly beginning to get droopy as sleep overcame him. He closed his eyes and his brows were relaxed. You sat there for a while, watching him sleep, and you look at the time, 8PM, Aemond was running late, but you didn't mind, by the time he usually fell asleep, Aemond would've been there, listening to you sing to his son and when he finally fell asleep, you would leave, politely saying goodbye to Aemond, but this time you had stayed, since Aemond was late.

You noticed how Aenys eyebrows furrowed before you saw tears coat his eyelashes

“Mam… mama… I want mama...” he mumbled in his sleep and you swear you felt your heart wrench at that, then you heard small sniffles.

He was crying in his sleep.

Is this what usually happens after you leave? You felt extremely sad, you remember how Aemond had told you that Aenys grew up without a mother, how she had died during childbirth. You never really thought about it much but you realised how tough it must've been for Aenys, then suddenly you remembered all the times you played together or watched cartoons, how he would say the word "mother" longingly when he was referring to a mom dragon, or how he stared in a daze when a cartoon showed a mom taking care of his child.

He was beginning to notice an absence of a parental figure in his life.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sniffling getting louder, and Aenys was beginning to borderline cry out, you quickly picked him up and carried him, pacing around the room gently as you patted his back, his hand clung tightly onto the sleeve of your arm and he rested his cheek on your shoulder.

“Shhh, Aenys, it's okay.” you try consoling him but he kept repeating the words 'I want mama, mama.' in his sleep over and over again.

Not knowing what to do, you began to feel bad, so you did what you thought was the best.

“Aenys, Mama is here, it's okay hush now..” you coo gently into his ear and that's when he finally stops sniffling, 'mama?' he mumbles and you hum, “Yes, it's mama, do not cry anymore okay? Mama is here.” you caress his hair and he finally relaxes, you were so entranced in comforting him that your brain managed to ignore the presence of Aemond himself, who had arrived when you picked him up and paced around in a panic, he was going to interfere but then he heard you say those words.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you noticed him, heat climbing up your face as you realised he probably heard everything and also you were stricken with fear too cause you likely overstepped.

You gently placed Aenys down on the bed and got out of his room, anxiety coursing through your veins as you realised what you had done

But you were only trying to comfort him.

Aemond soon followed you out the room as well and you turned around to face him when he closed the door.

“I apologize— I'm so sorry—” you began.

“Don't. It's fine, I can understand why you did that.” he cuts you off, and you wince.

“He- he's been noticing.” you began and Aemond nodded, “I've noticed too.” he replies and sighs.

“Aenys has changed a lot since you've started babysitting him in a good way , and I've noticed it, he's becoming more and more aware of the world around him.” He moves to the living room, sitting on the couch and you do the same, sitting on the one opposite to him.

“I've made sure that he never felt a lack of anything in his life, but I guess it's only natural for a person to desire something he can't have.” he says.

“Aenys can have a mother, if you remarry, that void will be fulfilled somewhat.” you suggest and he looks at before chuckling “I've thought of that too, my mother said the same thing, but i cannot trust anyone, especially considering how many are after my money, who knows if they'll be kind to him, or whether Aenys will like them or not.” he sighs.

“That is true.” you agree with him and he looks at you.

“Unless… ” he begins, eye scanning your entire being and you look at him, your heartbeat quickening, just as he was about to say something, your phone rings and it cuts off the trance-like state you were in, and you look at it to see who it is.

It was a spam call.

But then your eyes bulge out of your sockets when you look at the time, “Holy shit it's late, I'm sorry sir but i have to leave now, or else it will be too dangerous.” you say and quickly apologise and he nods, dismissing you. That was the first night, sleep came to Aenys peacefully.

But it didn't to Aemond, he was lost in thought about everything, but then his mind wandered off to somewhere it shouldn't go.

The way you comforted Aenys stirred something inside you, the moment was perfect, you cooing in Aenys' ear that you were here, pretending to be his mother.

It was so perfect.

Almost as if you were made for that.

Aemond felt his heart flutter.

For the first time in years.

He couldn't help but accept the pull he felt towards you.

Aenys doesn't seem to remember the incident, probably cause he was literally just sleep talking so it was left at that, but you and Aemond however grew a bit close after that incident, he came back home early as he can, so he could spend time with his son and you, he was subconsciously trying to get his son used to both of them being around, both present in his life as parental figures.

You obviously weren't able to leave early just because he got home early because those were your mandatory hours, so it became your new normal to spend time with him and Aenys.

You couldn't deny that there was something definitely blooming in between you and Aemond, he would often throw appreciative comments in your way, which made your belly pool up with heat.

You noticed how he wanted to stay by your side, physical touch lingering, he had suggested that you 3 should go grocery shopping, and you found it odd considering he could literally order his clients to fetch them for him, but you agreed anyways, using it as a chance to get outside and let Aenys interact with other people. Aemond was heavily against sending him to the daycare, because he was scared for his son, it was understandable but it also set Aenys behind a bit.

“Mama, I want this!” you hear a kid yell at his mom and you watch as she refuses it gently, telling him no and that she will buy him the next time they come back here, and the kid just pouted, you chuckled at the sight.

You turned your attention to Aenys who was staring at the scene too, and you realised how he was in a daze once again as well, you looked at Aemond who also seemed to notice.

Aenys quickly ran in another direction and you panicked and almost ran after him before he was back in front of you again, grabbing the same toy the other child had grabbed earlier and showing it to you. “Ma-” he cut himself short before pushing the toy to show you “I want this!” he says and Aemond was confused at first and he was about to agree to buy that toy for Aenys until you butted in, “No Aenys, we can't buy it right now! We'll buy it next time when we come back here okay?” you say and he smiles sheepishly at you, before pretending to pout and put the toy back in a random shelf.

You chuckled at the childishness, he just wanted to feel the same type of experience that others do. Aemond knew it was just you both playing around, he didn't miss the way Aenys almost called you his mother, and it spurred him on further, the way you acted as a genuine mother.

Those type of random moments became often, and it pushed Aemond further and further to the edge, the way you would act like such a perfect mom made him want to bend you over any surface and fuck you, filling you up with his cum.

Aemond then suddenly started joining for lunch, he would usually eat at his office, but he made extra effort to drive home so he could eat with his 'family.' He loved your cooking, you made it taste like home, he would watch as you cut smaller pieces of fruits and vegetables for Aenys so he could properly chew and eat. He imagined how perfect you would be as his wife and like an official mother to his child, or better, children, all of these small things were pushing him to the edge

And soon it would push him off it.

Aemond cursed himself when he drove through the rain, already running late, he looked at his watch and read the time, it was 10PM, the meeting in the afternoon stretched over two hours long which set back the rest of his schedule by a lot, he quickly parked his hair before making his way inside his house, open the door with the extra key carried before shutting it close.

“Look Aenys! Dada's here.” he heard you say and he was immediately spun around, he didn't expect you to stick around this long, but then he realised it was raining heavily and you always went by taxi, there probably would've been no taxi available in this weather.

“Aenys didn't go to sleep yet?” he asks, undoing the suit he was wearing before throwing it on the couch, approaching both of you, taking Aenys into his arms.

“He wanted to wait until you got home, he was worried for you, though he seems tired hmm.” you pinch his nose playfully and he scrunches it up, “I'm not twired…” he says but then yawns earning a chuckle from both you and Aemond.

“I'll put him to sleep, you go freshen up.” you say and Aemond nods, giving him back to you.

Fuck everything about that interaction felt too domestic.

And Aemond had lost his resolve.

He found you sitting on the couch, scrolling through something, he sat down next to you.

“What are you doing?” he asks and you look at him, “Trying to book cabs, but there are none available at the moment due to the weather.” you sigh before placing your phone down.

Aemond should've offered to drive you home but instead he offered to let you stay.

“You know you can stay over, I do not mind it.” he says and you look at him “Really? I don't wanna be a bother—”

“Oh please, you are never a bother.” he cuts you off and smiles at you. “You should freshen up for the night, you've been here since morning.” he says but you pout. “I do not have any clothes.” you say and he simply shrugs, “You can wear mine.” he pushes the buttons, wondering how far he can get away with it, he knew offering you to let you stay at his house already broke the employee boss relationship, hell, the moment he desired you was when it already broke.

“Mhm okay! Where is the guest bathroom?” you ask and he shakes his head, “The water heater is broken in that one, it's better if you use the attached bathroom in my room.” he says.

The water heater wasn't broken.

He was lying.

And you believed him.

He watched as you got up and made your way to his room, which was right next to Aenys', considering he has to react if something happens to him, he followed you inside opening the cupboards and giving you his hoodie and fresh pair of boxers which you thanked him for.

He left the room to give you privacy, but oh gods his mind was racing with all the thoughts.

He paced around, trying to contain himself, and he stood there in front of the door.

And then you opened it.

His hoodie reached to your thighs, and you looked at him, shocked to find him in front of the door, lips parted.

He snapped.

He quickly pushed you inside and shut the door behind you, slamming his lips against yours, and kissed you fervent hunger, you stumbled back and you almost fell but he caught you by your waist and pushed deeper into the kiss, moving his lips hungrily against your.

He pulls away, silently giving you a way out if you need it.

You should refuse this.

You should push him away.

But you don't, instead you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a deeper kiss, he groans when he feels you kiss him back, he pulls away once again, before grabbing you by your arm and pushing you onto the bed, making you fall on your back, your hoodie rising up, revealing your stomach, which he kissed lovingly before he pulled the hoodie even more further up, exposing your tits and pressing kisses to the nipples, causing you to gasp.

He pulls the hoodie off of you completely, and you raise your hands to assist him, he pulls off his shirt too, exposing his naked chest, and you bite your lip at the view, next he takes the boxes off you, doing the same, leaving you both completely bare to the room.

He pushes you upwards to the bed and crawls on top of you, kissing your face, neck, collar bones and valley between your breasts, his hands grab the flesh of your tits before he kneads them, massaging them, thumbs flicking the nipples making you arch your back.

One of his hands trails down to your core, dipping into the heat, he outright moans when he finds you practically leaking, collecting the arousal and bringing it upwards your bud. Rubbing small circles which makes you gasp.

He pulls his hand away and brings it up to lick at the wetness that has accumulated on the fingers, humming in satisfaction before he pressed kisses which travelled downwards until his mouth stopped right at your core, giving a small kiss to it to, you shivered when you felt his hot breath against it, the way the air he exhaled would hit your clit. He kissed the inner part of your thighs first, making you needy with want, wishing he'd just take you into his mouth.

And then he does, his tongue strides upwards from your opening to your clit, giving you one long lick before he captures your clit with his mouth, suckling on it, causing you moan his name loudly, both of his hands wrap around your thighs and he pulls them further apart, his fingers digging into the flesh as he hungrily devours your cunt, tongue flicking the bud constantly, you grip his hair and buck your hips, practically rutting against his face, you felt his tongue travelling down and lick at the wetness, the tip of his nose pushing against your clit, you felt your core tighten as the movement of his tongue sped up, causing you to topple over the edge and your orgasm hit you like a truck, making you whine loudly.

He greedily licked everything up before he placed wet kisses on your thighs, the residue of your wetness sticking to them before he sat back on his knees between your parted legs, you watched as he got up slightly, making his cock come into view.

Your eyes widened slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by Aemond, this stroked his ego very much.

He was big, bigger than any you've seen before, it was pale with a tip that was flushed pink due to the blood pumping, oozing precum out of it, he pumped his cock in his hand to ease the area, coating his dick in his own precum before he positioned it against your entrance, you bit your lip in anticipation but then you felt him slide against your folds, covering his dick in your wetness as well before slapping your clit with the tip of his dick, making you whimper.

He then lined himself against your entrance and pushed in, and you arched your back at the stretch, it was so delicious, you felt so full.

He leaned on top of you and gave you a passionate kiss, you could taste yourself on his tongue, making you taste the tanginess, he supported his weight on his elbows which were on either side of you, gripping yours, fingers intertwined with yours. You were locked in a missionary position, a position that felt intimate.

Then you felt him move, thrusting in and out at a brutal speed, causing you to moan his name, the thrusts made you jolt up the bed, breasts bouncing due to the force emitted from it, his grip tightening as he grunted on top of you, rutting into your wet heat, his hair dropped his shoulders, cascading around his face, and you gasped at how godly his looked like this.

Then you felt his tip hit your gspot, constantly, which caused you moan extremely loudly, “Fuckk! Ahh~ Aemond!” you mewled, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, his hand left one of yours to cover your mouth as he continuously slammed into you.

“Shh, be quiet, or he'll wake up.” he whispers, referring to Aenys who was sleeping in the next room and you nodded, you felt him pull his hand away but his thumb traced your lips, you opened your mouth which made him put his thumb inside and you sucked on him, and you felt him groan, then he pulled it out, hand going back to grip yours, and you bit your lip to hold back your moans from slipping out.

You felt your core begin to tighten again and it snapped once more, causing you to arch you back, pushing your breasts against his chest and he muttered 'fuck' feeling the way you clenched around him.

His thrusts begin to grow sloppy and lose their rhythm, indicating that he was close, “Fuckk, I'm gonna cum inside you.” he says and you whine, “I'm going to get you pregnant, watch you grow round with my kid…” he growls, thrusting into you again and again, “You're going to give Aenys little siblings, You will, right? He looked so lonely, I think he'd appreciate that.” he grunts and you nod quickly, mind too hazy to even comprehend or acknowledge the complications behind you agreeing to this.

“Good girl.” he says before he finishes inside you, and paints your walls white, shooting up his seed far into you, riding his orgasm out.

You felt him pull out and thought that was the end until he pushed you over onto your back, and sat on his knees, he grabbed your waist and pulled it up, and you immediately switched to supporting your on your knees as you arched your back, stretching like a cat, your hands on the side of you.

He groaned when he watched his cum drip down your thighs before he scooped it up and put it in his mouth, tasting your combined essence.

He was still hard.

So he wasted no time, shoving himself back inside you and you whined at the way your walls felt overstimulated, not knowing if you can handle one more orgasm consistently.

He sheathed himself inside your walls, and moved with fervent speed like before, his balls slapping against your thighs, the room was filled with erotic noises, he gripped your waist for support, until his hand travelled slightly upwards, catching one of your tits before gripping it tightly, and rolling the nipple in between his fingers.

“I can't wait to watch them swell.” he grunts.

“You'd look so pretty with my child in your belly, the way your tummy will swell? Gods fuck, that is a vision.” he moans

“Look at you, taking my cock so well, like you are meant to.” he notes, thrusting in and out, watching as the previous cum leaks out.

He clicks his tongue

“So much is going to waste, tsk, it's okay I'll fill you up again, make sure you get pregnant.” he groans and you moan, “Ye-yes fill me up.” you say, and he smirks at that, “Good girl, taking my cock like one.” he leans against you, your back pressing to his chest as he leaves kisses on the back of your neck, and you once again, topple over the edge for the third time.

He finishes too, inside you again.

You both fall besides each other on the bed, and realise the weight of the situation after the adrenaline and excitement of the moment fades away and the breathing becomes more stable.

“I- fuck.” Aemond begins not knowing what to say and you lay there quietly.

“Listen, ever since that day you walked in, I felt some type of pull towards you, I wasn't sure what it was, but it was as if we were meant to me, and I couldn't ignore the feelings brewing inside me.” you watch as he speaks.

“I- to put it in simple words, I fell in love with you. I really did, though it's fine if you do not share the same feelings, we can go back to pretending this never happened.” he confesses.

“I am in love with you too.” you confess, “I pushed these feelings away, because it wasn't appropriate.” you say and he looks at you this time.

Silence falls between you two.

A comfortable silence.

He pulls you closer and wraps his arms around you, hugging you, and you hug him back, the he places loving kisses atop you.

You felt something hard pressing against your inner thighs and you looked down, shocked to find him hard again, you chuckle.

“Again?” you tease and he playfully glares at you, “Yeah, you're so fucking irresistible.” he kisses your neck, hips mindlessly grinding against you. “I'm so sensitive.” you pout, but you get an idea, you quickly push him onto his back before getting on top of him, and then crawling down in between his legs, before taking his cock in your hand.

“Fuck!” he moans when he feels your warm hand wrap around it, before you gently tug on it, pumping your hand up and down, watching as the precum leaks out, you collect some with your tongue, poking the slight hole making him groan and grip the side of your head.

You trail kisses down to his balls, before giving them wet kisses as your hand pumps his cock, you lick a long stride up his length before taking him in your mouth, as best as you can, hands resting on his thighs to balance yourself.

You bob your head up and down, swirling the the tongue around him, pulling away time to time to breath before descending onto him once again, the grip on the side of your head tightened and you watched as he sat up slightly leaning on his elbow, before his hips thrusted upwards, and so you let him take control.

He collected your hair into a makeshift pony before gripping the back of your head tightly and thrusting his entire length into your mouth, the tip teaching the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, causing tears to well up in your eyes, you closed them and tried to breathe through your nose as he thrusted upwards and fast, essentially fucking your throat.

You felt him twitch slightly in your mouth, knowing he was close, you sucked him and hollowed your cheeks, he threw his head back at that, he felt steady pleasure rising within him before such a force expelled from his body, causing him to peak, shooting out ropes and ropes after cum into your mouth, you felt it hit the back of your throat, causing you to swallow unknowingly, before he slightly pulled out, cause the remaining to fall in your mouth.

He pulled out completely and watched your face, flushed and hair dishevelled, you held his cum in your mouth, waiting for his command, “Swallow.” and you did, obeying him, opening your mouth to show that there was none left, he groaned as he watched the remnants of his seed drip from the side of your mouth before he collected it with his index finger and shoved it back into your mouth, and you click his finger clean, he grunted before you upwards and kissing you, tasting himself in your mouth, hands squeezing your ass before he gave one of them light slaps, causing you to wince.

You pulled away and breathed heavily, he smiled down at you, before he left the bed to clean both of you up, collecting the clothes and getting dressed before he pulled beside him in the bed, going to sleep while hugging your form.

You dreaded the next morning, wondering how you'll explain your relationship to Aenys, you woke up to an empty bed, you read the time, it's was just 8AM, you felt sad but then you quickly got up and went outside finding Aemond and Aenys awake, sitting at the table conversing, your heart warmed at the sight, Aenys spotted you and ran over to you, lifting his arms up, asking you to silently to carry him, and you did, you picked him up before placing a small kiss to his forehead.

“Mama!” he said and you froze, before you looked at Aemond, who gave you a small smile and nodded and your eyes softened at it, it seems he had done the explaining.

“Mama! Mama!” Aenys grabbed your face making you look at him and you chuckled, “Yes Aenys, it's mama.” you say and he smiles brightly.

“I'll go get ready for work.” Aemond says, getting up from the spot he was sitting on and coming over to both of you before he pressed a kiss to Aenys forehead, and doing the same to you and going inside his room and getting ready.

You put Aenys down on his chair and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, you made simple eggs on toast, and just on the time, Aemond came out of his room, looking all ready and you placed three plates down, along with fruits cut into small pieces of Aenys.

“I made breakfast.” you say and Aemond smiles at you, before sitting down and the three of you ate breakfast.

Applying for this job was the best thing you've ever done.

Who knew your life would change the course of it in the span of just a few months.

There were other things to discuss, and you knew it was plaguing Aemond's mind as well, but you both decided it will be best if discussed later and so you both basked in this moment, listening to Aenys babbles.

“So i hwave a mom now rightt?” he asks Aemond who nods, “Are you happy?” he asks and Aenys nods quickly, “Yesh! Aenys is wery hwappy! But…” he trails off and you feel your heartbeat quicken.

“I want a sibling too…” he murmurs

Oh gods.

Your eyes flickered over to Aemond who stared at you, you blush and look away as you remembered the details of last night.

“I wwant a swister… ! or a bwother!!! Hmm any is fine…” he babbles on, not knowing what he is asking for.

You look at Aemond again, who didn't seem to take his eye off you at all.

He smirks.

Oh fuck.

You quickly get up and collect the empty plates before going behind the kitchen counter and placing them in the sink, washing your hands, focusing your attention on them, until you felt arms wrapped around your waist before one trailed upwards towards your breast giving it squeeze, you quickly looked up to see Aenys was watching until you realised he was nowhere to be seen.

“He's in his playroom.” Aemond whispered in your ear, grinding slowly against your ass.

“Heard that? He wants a sibling so badly, surely you can't deny him right?” he asks, pinching your nipples through the fabric causing you to gasp.

He places kisses down your neck, before he spins you around and kisses you on the mouth, making you wrap your arms around his shoulder. He pulls away before kissing you on the cheek.

His phone rings and he notices the time, 9:15AM, he was running late which was the first for him, and it was his assistant calling him.

“Fuck, mood spoiler.” he grunts before shoving his phone back in his pocket before placing a kiss to your mouth once again.

“Don't think I'm done with you yet, it's gonna be one hell of a ride when I get back home.” he presses one final kiss to your neck before pulling himself away from you, granted it was so fucking difficult considering how he wanted to fuck you on the kitchen counter just moments ago.

You nod and follow him to the front door.

“Have a nice day, Aemond.” you say, and he smiles at you, coming to kiss you but then Aenys comes running towards you both.

“Is dada going to work?? BYE DADAAA” he screams and Aemond chuckles, before waving a small 'bye' to Aenys, and leaving from the front door.

He barely left and he already couldn't wait to get back home from work.

And you gulped, nervous in anticipation.

Oh seven hells.

———

[ckret2]

Chapter 54 of everybody being really eager to kill their prisoner human Bill Cipher for good: the gang's trying a new way to create fuel for the one weapon guaranteed to destroy Bill.

It goes so great.

As Ford drove to Northwest Manor, Dipper skimmed through the introduction to Flatworld, where Edward Bishop Bishop was pretending that his book had been dictated to him by a sentient square; but he couldn't focus on it. He sighed, shut the book, and stared out the passenger window at the passing trees.

"Something on your mind?" Ford asked.

"I'm thinking about the Axolotl's poem again. The one about Bill."

"Ah. Still trying to remember the rest?"

"Kinda. Mabel and I are working on it together," Dipper said. "But it's not that. I've just been wondering... what if the poem is... you know, part of a prophecy about Bill or something? Mabel remembered another line of the poem—'A different form, a different time.' What if the Axolotl was telling us why Bill's back as a human? Maybe we need him here—to, to use his powers to fight off a bigger threat or something. Do you think that's possible?" He held back another question: what happens if we kill him before then?

Ford frowned thoughtfully. "I've been thinking about the Axolotl as well," he said. "About the worlds I visited that called it a god of criminals, tyrants, and luck. That sounds to me like the exact kind of being that would be Bill's ally. And it's odd how resistant Bill was to telling us anything about the Axolotl, when it simply passed over town for a few seconds and then moved on. Why the secrecy? How does Bill think it benefits him for us not to know about it?" Ford shook his head. "I think you're on to something, Dipper—I think whatever the Axolotl told you is important. The question is: important for whom?"

Dipper's stomach turned. The Axolotl had radiated such kindness; it was hard for Dipper to believe it could be up to anything evil with Bill. But then—Dipper clutched at Flatworld with the damning biography on the back—but then, how many people had Bill himself fooled with the benevolent teacher act?

Dipper understood now why "Don't Trust Bill" had so quickly turned into "Trust No One." Even when you knew that there was only one real enemy—even when you knew that most people out there were still reasonably honest and friendly—you could never tell just how far Bill's shadow stretched. "I guess that's true. We can't really know."

"We can't know yet. But it is worth trying to figure out," Ford said. "I wish I could tell you where to start looking for answers. For now... we'll just have to consider anything possible."

Ford was right. But all the same, every time Dipper paranoidly asked himself What if Grunkle Ford is right, what if the Axolotl really is on Bill's side, a second, even more paranoid, even more worried voice asked, But what if he isn't?

####

When they arrived, Fiddleford was already in his lab, hard at work on the miniature particle accelerator they'd come to see him about.

"The paradox what was powering it started yowling" Fiddleford said. "So obviously it ain't a paradox no more."

Ford grimaced. "That does lay to rest whether the cat is alive or dead."

"Sure does," Fiddleford said, sighing. "So I let the cat outside and I'm rebuilding the whole contraption to run on a more robust paradox. I hope you've got better news for me, Stanford."

"We hope so too. I think Dipper might have the solution to our fuel generation problem."

They briefly explained Dipper's unfortunate puppet incident last summer—Fiddleford had to take a break in the middle to grab a cup of coffee, "To steady my nerves,"—its ongoing effects on his sleep, and the new developments of the last few days, culminating in Dipper learning how to project his soul out of his body—

—which, Ford now realized, he probably should have expected Fiddleford to take poorly.

"Sweet sasparilla!" Fiddleford kicked over his chair while jumping onto the nearest table. "You're dead?!"

"What?" Dipper said. "No, I—"

"You're like a ghost possessing a zombie!"

Dipper thought that over. "Whoa..."

But, even though Fiddleford thought the whole affair went against the rightful order of the world, he agreed that it was a sound idea and worth trying. "It's lucky that my tater tot and I hunted out all the ghosts in this place during our spring cleaning," he said, opening a cabinet. He retrieved what looked like a pair of vacuums redesigned to be worn like backpacks with an assortment of random electronics dangling from wires. He held up a set of goggles and headphones hanging off one of the vacuums. "I invented these doohickeys that'll let you see and hear ghosts! They'll let us keep in contact with Dipper while he's out of his body." He set the vacuums on a table near the miniature particle accelerator and said, "First, though—Stanford, I need you to help me rebuild this machine."

"Of course." Ford turned away from the vacuum he'd been inspecting to look at the miniature particle accelerator.

Dipper said, "Wait, there are other ghosts in this mansion?"

"Yep!"

"I hunted one at the Northwests' big party last year," Dipper said. "How many more ghosts are in here?"

"We've caught, oh... thirty or forty so far."

"Seriously? That's amazing." Dipper was already thinking about the amazing Ghost Harassers episode this place could have been. Maybe even a miniseries.

"Aw, it weren't that hard. If you leave the TV on, they like to flock around it to watch. All you've gotta do is hide in the corner until a whole big bunch of 'em are gathered 'round—and then ya get them!"

"Oh," Dipper said. "Huh. I just tricked one into getting trapped in a silver mirror."

"Well, that's right impressive too. I never woulda thunk of that," Fiddleford said. "Me and Tate have been sucking them into cooling pouches in these here vacuums and then sticking the pouches in a chest freezer down in the dungeon! Maybe I oughta line the freezer with silver."

"This place has a dungeon?" Dipper asked.

Before Fiddleford could respond, Ford asked, "Which parts are we replacing?" He was inspecting the miniature particle accelerator.

"All of them!"

Ford gave Fiddleford a surprised look. "All of them?"

"Yep! Every last one!"

"Is the design changing that much?"

"Nope! It's staying exactly the same!"

"Then... why can't we just use the same machine we already have?"

"We will be using the same machine!" Fiddleford smiled mischievously. "Or will we?"

"Ah! I see! The particle accelerator of Theseus," Ford said. "Very clever."

"And kinder on the local stray cats, I reckon."

Dipper offered his assistance, but the work involved too much welding and buzzsawing for him to try untrained, so he was directed to sit a safe distance away with the first aid kit. At least it gave him a chance to read some more. He had to shove aside a couple flashlights and the glue grenade to reach where the slim book had slid to the bottom of his backpack during their walk from the car.

He skimmed over some of the worldbuilding looking for the story before he realized the story was the wordbuilding and looped back. It was a lot bleaker than he expected, even after Mabel's warning. Rigid class system, oppressive government, all kinds of horrifying shape prejudices... Frustrating dream visits to the ignorant line people in the first dimension who didn't believe in the second dimension, and to the self-absorbed King Zero in the point-sized zeroth dimension who thought a whole universe was contained inside him... A just as frustrating visit from a sphere who simply couldn't explain the third dimension in a way the square protagonist could understand, which was even more annoying since the square had just seen how the first dimension couldn't comprehend the second for the same reasons, so why couldn't he accept the possibility of a third dimension he couldn't imagine? Dipper got that it was supposed to be a metaphor to help three-dimensional readers understand that not being able to visualize a fourth dimension didn't mean it was impossible; but still. Come on, man. Don't be stupid.

On the other hand, at least now Dipper had a framework to understand the concept of higher dimensions and probably a leg up on next year's geometry. Would high school geometry cover four-dimensional space?

After a couple of hours of work and a break for lunch, the miniature particle accelerator was rebuilt and ready for another attempt to generate fuel. Fiddleford pulled on one of his ghost vacuums like a backpack, put on the set of connected headphones and goggles, and settled his glasses on over the goggles. "Y'all ready?"

"Ready," Ford said. He was seated at the accelerator's monitors, holding the jug that would contain any NowUSeeitNowUDontium they generated, and wearing the other vacuum—with the goggles over his glasses, and he was a bit worried about how Fiddleford had positioned his.

"Ready," Dipper said, a tad less certainly. What if he couldn't do it today? What if he'd never actually been able to do it last night and the whole thing really had been a dream?

But Fiddleford flipped the accelerator's power on, stepped back, and said, "All right! Do your thing!"

"Okay." Dipper stared straight at the machine, and—eugh—thought about degloving his body from his soul, peeling out of his skin fingers first.

This was only the second time he'd left his body deliberately. He'd observed in the past that the mindscape was strangely gray and still compared to the real world—but he'd never realized just how stark and swift the change was, like all the color and warmth had been abruptly sucked from reality. He shivered.

Ford inhaled sharply. Fiddleford stumbled back against the nearest table and yelped, "Flipping flapjacks!"

"You can both still see me?" Dipper said. "Can you hear me, too?"

"Loud and clear," Ford said.

"Like the voices of the dead." Fiddleford shuddered. "Welp, let's get this over with. I don't like all this ghost business. It ain't natural."

Ford gave him an amused look. "Since when have you ever been concerned about what's 'natural'? Didn't the engineering club vote you 'most likely to build a robot that flies in the face of God'?"

"You hush! There's nothing unnatural about iron, electromagnetism, and flamethrowers."

Dipper studied his body's face, its eyes pointed blankly toward the particle accelerator. "Well, I'm looking at the experiment, but I'm definitely not thinking about it. I think that's half of the paradox?"

"That's right," Fiddleford said. "Now, you just—float yerself on over to the other side of the accelerator, and think about it without looking at it."

"Right." Dipper positioned himself directly across the accelerator from his body, shut his eyes, and tried to think experimental thoughts. He didn't know much about Dontium besides what Ford had written about it in Journal 3—that it was inert when you were looking at it and radioactive when you weren't—so, if the miniature particle accelerator generated any, would he get blasted with radiation? Or was his body staring at the accelerator enough to keep it inert? But no—it was supposed to fill up the jug Ford was holding, right? Ford was observing it. Dipper tried to imagine what must be happening inside the accelerator; how did it work, would particles spontaneously generate in the tubes? Maybe they circled around until they fell into the hose to the jug...

He heard Ford gasp. "Fiddleford, look at this— Don't listen to me Dipper, just keep—keep thinking whatever you were thinking!"

"Is it working?"

"It was! Don't let us distract you."

Dipper tried to ignore the sound of Fiddleford running over to Ford, and started humming to drown out their hushed conversation. That was good, right? It meant the experiment was working. Keep thinking about that—experiment. Experiment. Expeeeriment. ... He wondered if trying to do the experiment by putting himself and Tyrone on either side of the accelerator would have worked, or if it had to be Dipper's soul and his body—

"Hot diggety!" Fiddleford shouted. "We've reached critical mass!"

"What does that mean, is it bad?" Dipper opened one eye a crack, trying to squint enough that he couldn't see the particle accelerator. "Is it gonna explode?"

Ford explained, "It means we've generated enough Dontium that it can sustain its own existence. Now, even if you get distracted, what we've already generated will remain. It can only go up from here."

"Wow," Dipper said. "That only took, what, a couple of minutes?"

"Less than that! During our last attempt, we tried for hours without reaching critical mass," Ford said. "Your idea was right on the money. Excellent work, Dipper."

Dipper grinned. After all that anxiety, it was almost a letdown how easy it was, but the coolness factor made up for it. He could just imagine the conversations the first week of high school: What did I do over summer break? Oh, nothing much. Just synthesized a new element. To fuel a weapon custom-designed to kill an immortal chaos god. And did I mention I was a ghost at the time? It didn't quite top last summer's adventures, but...

Then something went wrong.

There was a noise halfway between the electric buzz of a tesla coil and the rip of Velcro being torn apart. A stench like burning hair filled the air. A line of shifting colorful light began worming its way out of the center of the particle accelerator and up into the air.

"Oh no. Ohhh no!" Fiddleford grabbed his head. "The micro-rips! The threadbare fabric of reality! Our experiment put too much of a strain on it! We tore straight through!" One foot bounced agitatedly, "Ohhh, I knew I shoulda run some calculations before substituting in Dipper for you and Stanley."

Dipper gasped as the line of light began to agonizingly stretch open wider. Reality began seeping over its edges and dripping through into the kaleidoscopic miasma beyond. It developed a second horizontal rip across its middle as reality stretched beyond endurance in multiple directions. "What—is that?" He was afraid he knew.

"A dimensional rift," Fiddleford said.

"The Nightmare Realm," said Ford.

The last frayed thread holding reality together snapped apart, and the rift tore open wide, fully exposing the Earth to the roaring roiling chaos beyond. 

They screamed.

"Hello?" A giant set of dentures with stubby arms and legs leaned through the rift. "Oh hey! Aren't you the guys that killed Bill?"

They screamed again.

"Is screaming how humans say hi?" the monster asked. "I'm Teeth. Aaah!" He turned toward Ford. "Hey! Fingers! Lookin' less electrocuted than the last time I saw you—"

Ford socked Teeth in the incisor, knocking him back through the rift. "Back, you! You and your 'friends' are not welcome in this dimension!"

"Ow. What the heck, man."

Fiddleford shouted, "Don't stop observing the Dontium!" He bounded across the room on all four to scoop up the milk jug and stare at it. 

Ford nearly toppled through the rift, and had to grab onto the miniature particle accelerator as the heaviest nearby object to anchor himself. The rift sucked on reality like a vacuum, and the longer it was open the more powerful it grew.

Over the roar of the rift, Dipper yelled "What do we do?!"

"We have to seal it! Before it sucks all of Gravity Falls into the Nightmare Realm!"

"How?!"

Last summer, the instant Bill had no longer been around to maintain the dimensional rift, it had also sucked reality into it, starting with everything that properly belonged in the Nightmare Realm; but then it had also quickly sealed itself back shut. On the other hand, this rift was just opening wider and wider. Maybe it wasn't like the rift Bill had used to enter Gravity Falls, then? Maybe it was structured more like the wormholes that had been left behind after Weirdmageddon—

"I've got it!" Ford picked up Dipper's body—trying not to shudder at how lifeless it felt—and unzipped his backpack. "Is the alien adhesive grenade still in here?"

"It should be! Let me see." Dipper floated over to peer into his backpack.

The rift was already strong enough to drag at Ford's clothing. The lightest objects in the room lifted into the air and were sucked through. Papers. Pencils. Coffee mugs. Dipper's soul.

He screamed. "GRUNKLE FORD!"

"Dipper!" Ford grabbed for Dipper's ankle, but his hand passed right through. Ford's blood ran cold as Dipper tumbled head over heels into the Nightmare Realm.

"Look at that," Teeth said, watching Dipper soar by. "Dinner delivery."

There was no difference between the mindscape and reality in the Nightmare Realm, if Ford followed Dipper  through he'd be able to get a grip on Dipper there. But how would he carry Dipper back to Earth without him melting through Ford's grasp the moment they were through the rift? Didn't matter, grab Dipper first, then figure it out—

Fiddleford shoved the jug of Dontium in Ford's hands as he ran past. "Watch over this!"

"What—!"

Fiddleford jumped into the Nightmare Realm, the end of a long extension cord tied around his waist. He stretched out the hose of his ghost vacuum and flipped a switch, and with a yelp Dipper's soul was sucked inside. Ford gasped in relief.

Trying to keep as much of his attention on the potentially-radioactive jug as possible, Ford reeled Fiddleford back in, shoved the jug in his hands, and dug into Dipper's backpack again until he found the alien adhesive grenade. He pulled the pin and chucked it through the rift. "Duck!"

He shielded Dipper's body and Fiddleford shielded the Dontium jug as the grenade exploded. Even so, the force of it blew aside everything within ten feet of the rift and sent both of them sprawling. When Ford glanced back over his shoulder, the adhesive had gummed up the opening of the rift like a popped glowing magenta bubblegum bubble; and as he watched, it sucked the opening shut. In a few seconds the air was still and quiet, and the only sign the rift had ever existed was an immense, jagged vertical line in the air around which the light refracted wrong.

Fiddleford gingerly got back to his knees, then pulled off his glasses and pushed up his goggles. One of the lenses had been crushed, and the glasses' frame was bent beyond repair.

Ford heaved a long, heavy sigh. "A bit too familiar, wasn't it?"

Fiddleford blinked at him. "Wasn't what?"

"The—reeling you in from the Nightmare Realm?" Ford said. At Fiddleford's blank look, Ford said, "The portal test?"

"Oh." Fiddleford scratched his head. "I... still don't remember it too clearly."

"Ah. Yes. Of course." Ford's stomach churned with guilt as he looked away from Fiddleford. Over thirty years late was too late to apologize, wasn't it? (Over the past year he'd wondered, again and again; and again and again he'd decided that it was.) "Thank you for saving—" He gasped, "Dipper!"

"Oh, right!" Fiddleford took off his vacuum, dropped it on the floor, and unzipped its bag. The ghosts of a Northwest in a buckskin coat and a confused-looking hippie escaped into the air. "Hey," Fiddleford barked. "You get back here!" He raised the vacuum's hose and flipped its switch. He caught the hippie, but as soon as she was sucked in she flew out the unzipped bag and off to freedom again. Fiddleford lowered the hose and shook a fist at the retreating spirits. "I'll get you ectoplasmic varmints, just you wait!"

Ford knelt on the floor and held the bag open wider. Dipper floated out, arms crossed tight and shivering. "So... so cold... and dark... and really, really dusty."

"Let's get you back where you belong."

Ford held up Dipper's body as he lay back down in it. He could see the moment color flooded back into Dipper's cheeks and his eyes focused again. Dipper groaned.

Ford said, "You're never doing that again."

"I am never doing that again," Dipper said.

"We can't do that again," Fiddleford said. "The fabric of reality in this town is too unstable to handle another paradoxical physics experiment that powerful! We'd rip open another rift to the Nightmare Realm!"

"And we just tossed away all of our remaining alien adhesive," Ford sighed. It left Gravity Falls vulnerable if any more rips formed. Sometime soon he'd have to go back to the alien crash site and see if there was any more adhesive he could scrounge up; but even if he did, they couldn't risk wasting more of it like this.

"But did we get what we needed?" Dipper asked.

Fiddleford held up the milk jug of Dontium and shook it. It had a strange shifting color, wavering between cyan and orange depending on the lighting. "Looks like we got about three-fourths of a gallon," Fiddleford said.

"It's only enough to fully power one shot," Ford said. "But... one shot is all it'll take to destroy Bill." His stomach flipped nervously as he said it. He'd been anxious every other time he'd prepared to kill Bill, but that had always been because he'd been preparing to battle for the fate of the universe with a godlike monster who could easily kill him or worse. For the first time, he was preparing to execute a defenseless prisoner, and he didn't know whether it would make the universe any safer.

For half the summer he'd hoped Bill was harmless. Now he wished he had proof that Bill wasn't, so that he could lay his conscience to rest.

Dipper looked as uncomfortable as Ford felt; but when he caught Ford's gaze, he hardened his expression and nodded. Ford nodded back.

"WOOHOO!" Fiddleford leaped his full height straight up, making Ford and Dipper start. "We done it! YAHOO!" He waved his hat around ecstatically, doing a little jig in place. "YIPPEE! HIP HIP HURRrr—hey, how come you fellers ain't celebrating?"

Ford didn't know how to explain without making Fiddleford worry he was at risk of falling under Bill's spell again. "We'll celebrate when he's dead."

####

"Who was at the door?" 8 Ball shouted. When he didn't get a response, he paused his game. "Teeth?"

Teeth waddled into the game room. His face was completely plastered shut with some kind of glowing purple glue.

Pyronica cracked up and Paci-Fire chuckled darkly. 8 Ball sighed, "What'd you get into, you idiot?"

Teeth waved his hands emphatically.

"All right, okay." 8 Ball stood and stretched. "Does anyone have the number of that lamp guy Bill used to hook up with?"

Half an hour later, having lured over Lava Lamp Guy with the false promise of ping pong pool and illicit liquids, they cornered him in a bathroom, with Zanthar sitting in the tub restraining him while Paci-Fire struggled to hold his face still.

"Please!" Lava Lamp Guy screamed. "Let me go! I'll do anything you want! My neurologist said I can't take much more of this!"

"Cease your complaints," Paci-Fire said, as 8 Ball took off Lava Lamp Guy's bowler. "You shall not dissuade us. We do this because we have no choice in the matter."

"Why not?!"

"Because none of us feel like making the trip to a dimension with a drugstore."

8 Ball stuck a soup ladle into the open top of Lava Lamp Guy's head and fished around until he got a scoop of the red goo floating around in the thinner orange liquid. Lava Lamp Guy howled in agony. Zanthar heaved a weary sigh.

8 Ball carried the ladle over to where Teeth was sitting on the toilet lid kicking his feet. "Here you go, bud."

Teeth clapped his hands, grabbed an oversized toothbrush, and held it out for 8 Ball to pour the goop on. He scrubbed his teeth until the goop dissolved the adhesive. "Whew!" He stretched his jaw a few times, then jumped to his feet. "Thanks! I was worried I was gonna miss karaoke night." He looked in the sink mirror to scrub off the remaining scraps of adhesive.

8 Ball put Lava Lamp Guy's hat back on. Lava Lamp Guy groaned, "I think I forgot my third husband."

"You've only been married twice," Hectorgon lied.

"Oh." Confused, Lava Lamp Guy said, "Alright."

Teeth muttered, "Blech, divorce memories." He grabbed a bottle of mouthwash to clear out the taste.

"So what happened?" Kryptos asked. He was hovering in the doorway beside Pyronica.

"I'unno. I think the Dimension 46ers were messing around with their portal or something? They opened up a portal here."

"What? Uh-uh," Pyronica said. "It had to be some other dimension. We just invaded them, why would they open the portal again?"

"No no, that sounds like humans to me," Kryptos said. "If one of them pushes a button and immediately dies, the guy standing next to him will go, 'I wonder if it does that every time.' I've seen them do it."

"It was definitely them, I saw that local contractor Bill recruited for the portal who went nuts. Fingers or whoever."

8 Ball groaned. "You mean the guy that invaded the Quadrangle and tried to kill everybody?"

"Yeah. That guy. He told me I wasn't welcome on Earth and chucked a glue bomb in my face. I was like, well alright, buddy, I'm not the one who opened up a portal in your house, you could have just stayed home instead of ruining my day," Teeth said. "I didn't really say that to him. I thought it."

"So now the humans are invading us." Pyronica threw her hands in the air. "Great! This is just terrific! Bill teaches them how to make their own portals, they follow us home, and now we're about to have a pest problem that knows how to use tools! How long is it until this whole place is crawling with humans?! I'm going househunting, how many rooms should I look for? 8 Ball?"

"I'm in."

"Teeth?"

Teeth sighed, but said, "Yeah. The neighborhood's going downhill. Especially if we're gonna have a pest problem."

"Big Z?"

Zanthar gave a thumbs up.

Pyronica looked at Paci-Fire. He averted his gaze. Pyronica said, "Paci?"

Sullenly, he said, "We should ask Keyhole's opinion as well."

She laughed in disbelief. Nobody cared about Keyhole's opinion, he went with whatever everyone else went with. Appealing to Keyhole was just a delaying tactic. "Fine, sure. We'll get Keyhole's opinion."

"I'm not going," Hectorgon said, crossing his arms.

Relieved, Kryptos said, "Yeah. Me neither."

"You don't have to," Pyronica snapped. "You two and Morph can wait for Bill to come back from the dead as long as you want. But the rest of us are leaving."

Kryptos tilted toward the hall, gesturing for Hectorgon to follow him away from the others. "How long do you think we can hold this place without the outerplanars?" The Quadrangle was all that remained of Bill's turf. Without Bill's energy boosting them, none of the shapes were particularly powerful. They'd always depended upon the other Henchmaniacs to guard Bill's stronghold, the heavy-hitters like Zanthar and Pyronica. Even Bill preferred to let them fight his battles when he could; Bill's energy was much vaster, but less renewable.

Hectorgon grimaced uncertainly. "We've gotta think of something fast."

####

Dipper stared at the jug in his lap, ensuring it didn't turn radioactive before they got home. Bill practically seemed to have a radar for Ford—and on top of that, could see through walls—but as far as he cared Dipper may as well have not even existed; so they'd decided that Ford would go in the main door to ensure Bill's attention was turned away while Dipper went through the gift shop and took the elevator down to Ford's study. Ford had told Dipper where to find a lead locker that would keep the Dontium contained until Ford could use it to refuel the Quantum Destabilizer; all he had to do was put it in and stare through the crack until he'd slammed the door shut.

And once they'd decided on that, the drive home had fallen deathly silent.

As the Mystery Shack appeared through the trees, Dipper asked, "We're doing the right thing, right?" His voice was quiet. "I hate him, but—we owe him our lives. And there's that prophecy..."

"Lives can't be owed," Ford said. "Yesterday he may have saved us, but tomorrow he would still destroy our world in a heartbeat. We can be grateful to be alive—but we can't let that stop us."

"So, we're doing the right thing?"

Ford was silent for much longer than Dipper would have liked. "I hope so."

####

(We're moving toward some important stuff!! Hope y'all enjoyed and I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this week's chapter!)

[avatar-anna]

I was thinking you could do a “5 times y/n told Harry she was pregnant” for the young!dad series !! That would be so interesting especially since in the last piece you mentioned that Harry already had a feeling she was pregnant before she even told him

The Thing About Having Six Kids

so i got this ask and a couple others that were kind of about the kids' birth/pregnancy a while ago, and went with five different instances about each kid in the youngdadrry universe. it's all surrounding their birth, finding out about pregnancies, etc. enjoy!

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

Simone

(a text conversation between Harry and Y/n)

Y/n: i'm pregnant

(one day later)

Y/n: Harry?

Harry: Are you sure?

Y/n: i'm sure

Y/n: i have four different pregnancy tests to prove it

Harry: I don't know what to say.

Y/n: the 24 hours it took you to respond kind of told me that

Harry: I'm sorry about that. It's just...a lot

Y/n: it's fine i guess. at least you finally responded.

Harry: Did you think I wouldn't?

Y/n: honestly? yeah. it's not like we're married or in love or anything. you don't even live in the same country as me

Harry: What are you going to do?

Harry: I know but I wouldn't just like disappear on you

Harry: I was just shocked that's all

Y/n: idk. i'm still trying to figure out a way to tell my parents

Harry: Shit my parents!

Y/n: that's kinda where i'm at right now

Y/n: but i think i want to keep it

Y/n: the baby

Y/n: fuck that sounds crazy to say. i have physics homework due tomorrow but let me stop and make a life altering decision really quick about whether i want to have a baby or not

Harry: I'm sorry. You know...

Y/n: for getting me pregnant? knocking me up? putting a bun in the oven?

Harry: It seems too early to joke about this

Y/n: it's keeping me from freaking the fuck out at the moment

(ten minutes later)

Harry: I want to talk about this properly and figure this whole thing out but I have to go

Y/n: please don't feel obligated or anything. this was just a courtesy

Y/n: i don't expect anything from you. i get it if your management wants you to delete my number and never see me again. i just thought you should know.

Harry: What are you talking about?

Harry: Y/n?

3 missed calls from Him <3

Collette

"Let's have another baby."

Y/n was close to nodding off, so it was very possible that she was dreaming. She looked behind her. It was dark in the bedroom, but Harry was close enough that she could see him, could see that his head was propped on his elbow so he could look down at her.

"What did you say?" she asked, because she needed to be sure.

"I...I want another baby," he said, voice soft even though they were the only two people in the room. Simone was fast asleep in her own bedroom, tuckered out after a long day of playing at the park and eating ice cream and fingerpainting with Harry. Now that One Direction was officially on hiatus, it was just the three of them—Y/n, Harry, and Simone. Y/n thought it would take some getting used to, living a relatively normal life. But their little family actually fell into it quite easily.

Perhaps a little too easily.

"Say something."

Y/n hadn't realized she failed to respond, but to be fair, that was a pretty big bomb her husband just dropped. Her husband. They'd been married for a few months now, but it still felt surreal, which was probably why the idea of having another baby felt too far from reality to comprehend.

"I just...I don't know what to say," Y/n said honestly. "I—I'm not sure we're ready for that."

"We weren't ready the first time," Harry said when Y/n finally flipped on her other side to face him. This seemed like a conversation he really wanted to have, so she thought facing him would probably be best. "I just think this might be the time, you know? I don't have an insane schedule anymore, there's no more management to say that we can't, and I've always thought about giving Simone a sibling. Don't tell me you've never thought about it."

"I...I have," Y/n said.

She did think about more kids. As young as she and Harry were and as impossible as their relationship seemed at times, Y/n couldn't help but think about wanting more. She loved Harry, and she'd been loving these moments they'd been able to share as a proper family recently. Harry was right, if they wanted to have another baby, now would be the time.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he said as she felt more than saw his hand push some hair away from her face.

"What happens when you start working again?" Y/n asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you, H," she said. "And I love you. Everything about you. And one of the parts that make you who you are is the music. This...this little bubble we're in, I love it too, but I know you'll want to go back to it someday. And then you'll go on tour for ten months, and I'll be alone to raise two kids by myself for a majority of the year."

It was harsh, but she trusted him enough to take it. This was the thought that always held her back. Y/n thought about the possibility of expanding their family on more than one occasion, especially in recent weeks when things have been practically perfect. But the reality was that Harry would want to go back to work. She knew, maybe better than anyone, the desire he had to make his own music, to create and write in ways he couldn't while in the band. And perform. Harry loved to perform live. Y/n knew that this time spent with just their family was fleeting, and she cherished every minute of it, the same way she knew Harry did. It was only a matter of time before he went back to work, and she wasn't sure she could raise Simone and a newborn without him.

"That's...That's all over now," Harry said. When Y/n tried to protest, he continued on. "What I meant to say was, the ridiculous schedules, the strict rules about when we can and can't spend time together, the separate hotel rooms. Mama, things can be different now."

"But management—"

"I bought out my contract," he said. "I haven't really given it much thought in a while because I just want to be present with you and Simone, but I've got a few people in mind for new managers. People who will prioritize our family."

This was certainly news to Y/n. It was hard to talk about Harry's management or the harsh thumb they pinned him under, so oftentimes it was a topic they avoided. Hearing him say this now, knowing how much money it would've taken to buy out his contract...that was a huge deal. As far as she knew, the other boys were just sticking with it until the contracts were finished. But Harry went and did what Y/n didn't even think was possible.

"Our family," Y/n repeated, and for a moment, she could see it. The three of them becoming four. It was crazy to think about, to think so far ahead into the future, but Y/n wasn't scared by it.

"Let's have another baby," Harry said again.

Looking at him, Y/n's heart squeezed in her chest. He'd been growing his hair out for a while now, and it was long enough that it reached just passed his shoulders. She loved it, thought it made him look older, more mature. And okay, hot. And Simone loved it too. She loved braiding it and putting bows and flowers in it or just twisting it around her finger. His shoulders were broad and lean, though he'd put on a little muscle in his arms from doing handiwork around the house, something he claimed he loved to do even though Y/n had heard him curse from another room while he worked on his latest project.

She looked at his face, the one that looked so different yet so similar to the one she'd met when she was seventeen. She wondered what those teenagers would think of the people they'd become, of the things they'd seen and experienced.

She thought about it. The baby-to-be. It would have Harry's eyes and smile, her nose and hair color. If it was a girl, she could wear matching outfits with Simone, if it was a boy...Well, they could maybe still match. Y/n thought about all the baby clothes—the adorable little onesies and shoes and mittens to keep the baby from scratching their face while they slept. She didn't let herself think of the late nights and sore boobs and dirty diapers. In this moment, she just thought about all the good feelings, every perfect moment that could be.

"You promise things will be different? I can't—I can't do it alone," she said, needing to hear him say it again.

Harry didn't try to kiss her, he didn't put his hands on her waist or pull her to his chest—all tactics he would normally use to distract her. This conversation was too serious, too important, and she loved him all the more for understanding that.

"I promise, Y/n," he said, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. "I will never make you regret living this life with me."

"That's not what I—"

"I know, but I just...I needed to say it."

He needed to make that promise to her, to himself. Life had not been easy, and Y/n knew Harry blamed himself for a lot of the hardships they faced.

"I don't," she said, kissing their joined hands. "And I won't. Ever. "

Harry grinned, and Y/n could tell even in the dark that his gaze was a little watery. Still, he inched forward and said, "So...?"

Y/n leaned forward and kissed him, her leg slotting between his. "Let's have another baby."

Maeve and Jules

"I'm sorry, did you just say twins?"

"I did. I'm seeing two heartbeats here. See?" The doctor said, pointing at the monitor she'd been observing closely the last five minutes.

Y/n couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. It was one thing to be pregnant (again), but an entirely different one to be pregnant with twins. "That's—"

"Amazing," Harry breathed.

Y/n turned her head away from the monitor to look at her husband, whose eyes were glued to the screen with a look of wonder in them. As she'd begun to process her own feelings about housing not one but two babies in her belly for nine months, she hadn't really considered how he might feel about it.

Looking at him now, she could tell he was ecstatic.

Y/n was still panicking a little, but seeing the elation on Harry's face was comforting. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it hard, needing to feel the warmth of his palm to ground her.

"Hey," he said softly, bending down to kiss the top of her head. "This is a good thing. Unexpected, but good."

"I know," Y/n said, letting out a shaky breath. "I know it's just...a lot. I mean...twins?"

"Nothing we can't handle," Harry said, kissing her cheek.

His confidence was reassuring. Maybe he was freaking out on the inside and not letting it show for her sake, but Y/n felt better about the situation at hand and was ready to continue with the appointment.

To the doctor, she said, "Are they healthy?"

The doctor smiled warmly. "They are. It looks like one of them is about a week behind, but that's nothing to worry about."

"Really? They're twins. That doesn't seem possible," Harry said, his brow furrowing adorably.

"It's rare, but it is possible. Fraternal twins can be conceived as much as twenty-four days apart," the doctor said.

Y/n understood perhaps a split-second before Harry, but when he did, he turned as beet red as she felt. The doctor didn't seem to mind their embarrassment, though she'd probably seen all sorts of couples and situations. Y/n imagined there wasn't much that the doctor hadn't seen before.

The appointment wrapped up pretty quickly after that. Harry snuck out of the hospital through a separate door while Y/n set up her next appointment. She met him in the staff parking lot, where he was standing by the passenger door to help her in. Harry gave her a quick kiss before closing her in and walking around to the driver's side. As he drove, Y/n was thinking about a number of things—twice the amount of clothes, twice the amount of crying, twice the amount of diaper changes. She was excited at the prospect of having a baby. It was a conversation she and Harry had before they started trying, but the idea of twins was a lot to wrap her head around.

She looked at Harry, wanting to ask how he felt now that they were alone, but she stopped herself.

Harry had one hand on the steering wheel, the other covering a wide grin. He was blushing a little too, and Y/n couldn't help but ask what had him smiling like an idiot.

"I'm trying to figure out which times," he said.

"What do you mean which—Are you kidding? Which times we conceived the twins?"

"Aren't you curious?" Harry asked. "Twice, babe. I put a baby in you twice. I mean, one of them had to be when we were on the yacht, right? I always feel good after we have sex, but I feel like we really outdid ourselves there. Clearly."

Y/n just looked at her husband in shock. "You are..."

"What? It's cool!" Harry insisted, but he was laughing too. "And it takes the edge off a little. Come on, you try."

So he was more nervous than he was letting on. That was comforting in its own way too, but Y/n appreciated his attempts to lighten the mood. They could have a serious conversation later, but for now it was fun to just forget all of that. Just for a moment.

Y/n gave him a dry look, trying to appear like she wasn't impressed until she eventually rolled her eyes and smiled. "Mm...I agree with the yacht, and...when you came back from London."

"Really?" Harry asked, more curious than surprised.

"Yeah," Y/n said with a little sigh as she remembered the night in question. "That was a good night."

It was one of those rare occurrences where Simone was in her own bed and Collette managed to sleep for more than a couple hours. They'd spent the whole night catching up and giggling like idiots and kissing and enjoying the pleasure of being truly alone with each other. Y/n loved those moments with Harry, where everything was just so simple and easy and it was just them having a little fun. They definitely should've been catching up on sleep while they could, but neither of them wanted to, so they stayed up with tired smiles and slurred movements until they heard Collette's cries through the baby monitor.

"It was. We should do that again sometime," Harry said. Taking Y/n's hand, he kissed the tops of her knuckles.

"You just want to go for triplets," Y/n teased, even though she knew that wasn't what he meant.

"I'm not that crazy," he said, but his smile told her he was thinking about the possibility. Maybe just a little. "I'm excited for this."

"Yeah? What do you think? Boys? Girls? A boy and a girl?"

Harry shrugged. "Our track record would suggest girls, but..."

"You never know," Y/n finished for him.

Geneva

"We have some pretty big news to share."

Once a month, the Styles family held a Zoom call with their friends and family who were scattered across the globe. Since lockdown began, there was a lot of adjusting—online school, not being able to go to the park to play, being at home all day. It was a lot for everyone, but Harry and Y/n did their best to make the adjustments smoother. And when they needed a break, they set up the monthly Zoom calls.

They were mostly just to catch up. Once all the children went to sleep, Harry and Y/n stayed up late talking to other adults about everything and nothing, maybe even played a different drinking game or two to round out the night before they went back to being parents. Tonight was a special night, though.

Multiple faces looked at Harry and Y/n expectantly through their computer screen. Both of them were sporting big smiles as Y/n leaned on Harry's side, one of his older sweatshirts covering her body and the almost imperceptible bump that was beginning to show now. Today was the first day she'd begun to show, and Harry nearly lost his mind with excitement. Finding out Y/n was pregnant had been somewhat of a surprise, but when she told him, he was over the moon. He's started to suspect, having recognized some of his wife's symptoms by now, but they'd been waiting for the right time to tell their families and friends, and tonight was the night.

"What's going on, darling?" Anne asked.

Neither Harry nor Y/n could barely contain their excitement, which probably gave away the news before they actually said anything. However, in their own eagerness to share the news, neither of them saw a few people on the call sporting knowing looks.

"We're having a baby!"

Cheers went all around as everyone congratulated the couple. Questions were asked about due dates and how far along they were and what they were going to do about the lockdown situation. Everything was just as Harry had hoped it would be.

And then things took an interesting turn.

"Who won?" Jeff asked.

"Won? What do you mean—"

"If my math is correct, which I'm pretty sure it is, I believe it goes to Gem," Sarah said, looking down at her phone. "She went with three and a half months. Glenne narrowly missed with three. No one had four so it goes to Gemma."

A collective groan went throughout the Zoom, leaving Harry and Y/n very confused.

"Did you place bets on us?" Y/n asked, sounding more astonished than offended.

"When lockdown became permanent, we knew it was a matter of when not if we would be getting the announcement," Jeff explained. "Someone has a physical copy of the pool somewhere."

"And all of you did this? Mum?" Harry said, brows raised higher than Y/n had ever seen them. When Anne nodded sheepishly, Y/n had to stifle a laugh. "So none of you were surprised?"

"I love you, dear, and I'm so so happy for you, but since you were seventeen, anytime you've come to me with big news, it's been about having a baby. For my own sanity, I've just come to expect it."

Harry looked down at Y/n, who was grinning behind her hand. For her husband's sake, her gaze softened as she reached up to kiss his cheek. "I mean, they have a point. Even you guessed it before I told you."

As the shock finally wore off, Harry smiled. He supposed it wasn't the worst thing in the world. So, he and Y/n were predictable, even though they hadn't really been trying this time around. They were in love and had a lot more time together currently. Things were finally back on track for them and their relationship troubles seemed behind them now. They were happy, and as long as his family was happy, some light teasing and bet placing seemed harmless.

He did pin everyone on the screen with a mock glare before moving on, though. "You guys made a whole pool. Really?"

"Yeah. Can you believe Jeff thought it would take eight months for you to get pregnant?"

"It was for the adjustment to lockdown period!"

"Eight months?"

And on and on it went. Harry just smiled and rested his hand over Y/n's belly, thinking about how much it would grow in just a few short weeks.

Natalia

"I want Mommy!"

Harry sighed and pulled his only son into his lap, pushing the curls away from his face and wiping the tears from his cheeks. "I know you do, JuJu."

Harry and the kids were waiting to hear from Y/n's mother, but he hadn't gotten so much as a text. He was anxious, worried that something was wrong, but Julian's crying served as a good distraction for the time being.

Julian continued to cry, still not understanding why he couldn't see his mother when he'd become so used to seeing her everyday. Harry would've been with Y/n had it not been for the little boy's crying, and he made the split-second decision to stay home while Y/n delivered the baby with her mother as support. He'd never missed any of his children's births, but for this, he could stay behind.

"She'll be back soon, bubba, I promise," Harry said, kissing Julian's cheeks and holding him close. "Should we go play with your Lego set? I know you've been excited to build it. Maybe we can build something to show Mummy when she gets home."

Julian shook his head and continued to cry into Harry's neck. Realizing his son was content to be miserable, Harry didn't ask again. He sat with Jules for a while, holding the boy to his chest and running a hand through his hair until his sobs turned into sniffles, and the sniffles into long, slow breaths. He waited a few extra minutes before taking Julian up to his room and setting him on his bed, making sure to place his favorite stuffed animal in his arms before leaving him to sleep off his troubles. As he walked away, Harry sort of wished he could do the same.

Every birth had been different. When Y/n had Simone, it hadn't been extraordinarily long, but it was extraordinarily stressful due to their young age. Collette was a fairly quick birth, perhaps a little too quick, seeing as Y/n barely made it to a hospital bed before the baby started crowning. The twins came early, which was apparently common for twins, but that didn't make it any less surprising to Harry and Y/n, especially because Harry was at the grocery store and Y/n was at the park with Simone and Collette and a nanny who was also there had to call an ambulance. Even still, Geneva's birth was probably the scariest, only because of all the rules and regulations brought on by Covid. Y/n's mother quarantined for two weeks so she could stay at the house while Harry and Y/n went to the hospital, as Y/n could only have one person in the room with her.

And now a year later, they were doing it all over again. Harry had been confident that this birth would go off without a hitch, that everything would be just fine, but the lack of word from his wife or mother-in-law made him nervous.

Later that day, Harry was still waiting. He'd gotten a text from Y/n's mother, which let him know that Y/n still wasn't ready to push but that they were getting close. That was an hour ago, and Harry had to believe that it was all happening now.

And he was missing it.

He knew being here with the rest of his children was important. That they were worried about their mother and probably found Harry's presence comforting. He just wished they could all be there in the waiting room instead of at home and fifteen minutes from the hospital. The not-knowing was killing him, and he was pretty sure his kids could sense it.

"Daddy?"

Harry's eyes flicked to where Collette was standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She was in her pajamas, a shirt and matching pair of bottoms with her favorite cartoon on them. Harry had been pacing around his room, his phone gripped tightly in his hand as he waited for someone to call him, but seeing his second daughter standing there, squinting at the light from his bedside table lamp told him he was up a little later than normal.

"Hi, peanut. What are you doing out of bed?" he asked.

Collette shrugged, her hair catching the light. She wiped at her nose and stepped further into the room until she stood in front of him. "Mommy always braids my hair before I go to sleep."

"She does, doesn't she?" Harry agreed. "She's kind of the best, huh?"

Nodding, Collette turned toward his bed and climbed up on it, looking at him expectantly. Even after having four daughters, Harry wasn't an expert at braiding hair. The girls always went to Y/n before school, and she did each of their braids or ponytails or pigtails happily. Harry always made sure to watch with a keen eye, and practiced on Y/n when she let him. He supposed now it was time to put all his practice to work.

The braiding didn't take long, and Harry didn't do half bad, in his humble opinion. Collette was just going to sleep in it anyway, so he wasn't too bummed by the few loose strands that he'd somehow missed.

He'd finished rather quickly, though Collette didn't slide off the bed to go back to her room. In fact, she nestled under the covers on Y/n's side of the bed, mumbling, "Night Daddy," before falling asleep. Harry didn't really mind. It wasn't the first time one of the kids stayed in his and Y/n's bed, and tonight, he figured he could use some company.

What he wasn't expecting was all of his children to stumble into his room. First it was Maeve, then Jules, then Simone, and finally Harry went to get Geneva, just so it was a proper sleepover. No one fought for space—which was a first. All the kids just found their spot and went back to sleep as if they were in their own rooms. Harry resisted the urge to take a picture so as not to wake anyone up with the flash of his phone's camera.

He hadn't planned on falling asleep. One moment he'd been watching a football game with the volume off, and the next he was blinking his eyes open as the sun began to stream in through the curtains. All of his little ones were still fast asleep, though Harry knew that would change soon. Maeve and Simone woke up early to watch morning cartoons, and Geneva would want her bottle within the hour.

Harry began to shuffle around and prepare for the usual morning routine—brush teeth, ok prepare the bottle, make breakfast for the early risers—when his phone rang. Startled, Harry rushed over to where his phone was plugged in, a huge grin splitting his face when he realized it was a video call from Y/n.

"Hi," Harry whispered, careful not to wake anyone up. "How are you? How's the baby? Is everything—"

"I'm fine, H. Everything's fine. Everything's perfect," Y/n said, a sleepy smile on her face.

Hearing that helped his heart stop racing, but only a little, as excitement flooded his veins. Y/n called him, which could only mean that—

"Wanna meet your daughter?" Y/n said, and even through the phone, Harry could see tears line her eyes.

Harry nodded, too overwhelmed with love and anticipation to form words. Quickly, he found an unoccupied spot on his bed and carefully sat down.

Y/n passed the phone to her mother who angled the phone so that Harry could see the baby, whose face was just barely visible through a pink blanket. He immediately felt tears well in his eyes, his throat going dry as he looked down at his daughter. Even through the phone, he felt every emotion he'd ever experienced when meeting his children for the first time. It was the most unique experience, Harry always thought. He'd seen and done so much, yet he still thought there was nothing like looking down at his newborn baby for the first time.

"Is that baby sister?"

Harry looked behind him to find Julian peering over his shoulder. Jules looked at the sleeping baby curiously, taking in his sister's little nose and tiny fingers and pouted lips. Then, he said, "Is Mommy there too?"

The camera panned up to Y/n, who was smiling and blowing kisses to Julian. "Hi JuJu, my love. I've missed you!"

"Mommy!"

"Mommy?"

"Mommy's home?"

Now everyone was up and crowding around Harry, taking turns talking to Y/n and baby sister, who had yet to be given a name. No one seemed to mind, though. If anything, they were more concerned about when Y/n and the baby would be coming home so they could have a party.

"Soon, my loves. The doctor wants me and the baby to stay one more night to make sure we're healthy. You think you can be good for Daddy?"

There was a chorus of yeses before everyone said their goodbyes, the novelty of a new baby sister wearing off when there were cartoons to be watched downstairs. Harry kept Y/n on the phone while he got Geneva's bottle ready, wanting to stay on the phone as long as possible.

"I know you must be tired," Harry said an hour later. He was in GiGi's nursery and watching her toddle around and play with her toys while talking to his wife.

"I'll hang up soon. I want you to get as much screen time as possible before I go," she said, turning the camera to where the baby was sleeping in the bassinet beside her hospital bed.

"Have you given her a name yet?" he asked.

Y/n shook her head. "I know we decided on one, but I wanted you to be with me when I said it for the first time."

"I love you," Harry said as his heart melted to mush.

"I love you too," Y/n said. She lifted the baby out of the bassinet, cradling her head with the expertise of someone who'd done it for years. Looking at Harry through the phone she said, "You wanna do the honors?"

Laughing out of pure bliss, he nodded. With all the tenderness and care he would've used if he'd been there in person, he said, "Welcome to this crazy, crazy world, Natalia Styles."

[inchidentally]

Okay so I was thinking about why Oscar didn’t go and congratulate Lando right after his win but I think the answer is quite simple. It’s because he felt a little at odds with himself.

He lost out in that race because of the safety car the same one that secured Lando’s chance. (you can hear him audibly swear over the radio when it came out, which he NEVER does) He was pissed at the timing and then to top it all off gets his race ruined by Carlos of all people (again) and THEN when he’s desperately trying to force his way back thought he field he’s told to stop fighting because Lando is in the lead.

So whilst I’m sure he was happy for Lando, he was, at the same time, mourning his own loss. As he should! He’s a racing driver. he should be pissed at losing especially at no fault of his own.

So he gave Lando the space, let him take in his well deserved victory and once he’d calmed he congratulated Lando earnestly, without his feeling for his own race getting in the way!

And I think it’s says a lot about how understanding and kind Oscar is. He knew if he congratulated Lando as soon as they crossed the line he wouldn’t have meant it enough so he waited until he did mean it.

What do you think?

KES BABE you're gonna make me long post !!!

I've actually got to weigh in (pun intended) with a very real technicality that my cousin pointed out when I was looking for Oscar once we finally got to watch!

all of the drivers who congratulated Lando not only were father figures/big brother figures to him, they also finished in the top 10 and quite literally had finished their weigh in nice and quick - the exception being Daniel who did not have to go and see the stewards. quite literally Oscar had to wait toward the back of the queue to finish his parc ferme shit (did we ever even get eyes on him?) from there he had to go see the stewards. depending on who they spoke to first out of him, Carlos and KMag and how long they kept him in the meeting, from there he'd have had to find out where Lando was (celebrating? interviews? cool down room?) and then run around to wherever he was. and ofc if he was in cool down he wouldn't have been allowed in.

so technically maybe Lando would've still been easy to find in Oscar's gap between finishing in parc ferme and going to the stewards, he might also have been stood waiting for his interview or even doing it or he might have already headed to the cool down room etc etc etc.

but I am NOT going to expect Oscar to try and navigate all of that when he not only had his top 3 position ruined but now he also had to go and find out if he was going to be penalized as well !!

especially when he knows he's got ample time to congratulate Lando anyway and Oscar is not remotely the type to care if cameras are around to broadcast it or not. the other non-podium drivers were going to entirely different garages and who knows when they'd cross paths with Lando again.

so honestly I personally think this all came down to technicalities more than anything else and if Oscar had finished in the top 10 at least then he would've absolutely been right there to congratulate Lando both for the ease of it but also bc it wouldn't have been as awful a result even if did receive a penalty.

and equally if he had the time to think of it, he would've assumed Carlos was already headed up there to congratulate Lando (and possibly could have seen him) and it was not !! the time for Oscar and Carlos to cross paths at that moment !!

BUT AS YOU SAID !! I think if there was time for him to get past the frustration and anger at what had happened to his own race and those mitigating factors weren't as much of an issue as I'm guessing they were, we know damn well that he'd be thinking what you said <3<3 bc even when things are going horrendously for him, Oscar never loses his head. and if he at all thought he'd bring his own negativity to the biggest moment in Lando's career so far then no WAY would he have risked it.

and bottom line is that one hug has ended up paling in comparison with how much Oscar was there for Lando in Oscar accepting 50% of the upgrades, obeying team orders for Lando rather than trying to get back in the points, showing up for Lando's celebrations twice in a major way, then going out to celebrate him all night long and posting about his win on social media for days afterward <3 like sure it would've had wider publicity if there'd been a hug right after - but Lando's beaming smile and thanking Oscar shows that he doesn't rate publicity as being more significant than everything else Oscar did for him that weekend ;__;

and what's actually really killed me is that surely surely there had to be an element of it for Lando where he remembered last year telling the press how it stung and hurt that Oscar had achieved any kind of win before him. that Oscar was never a showboat about it and always specified that it was a sprint win and not a real race win. that Lando was always the one to bring it up and give Oscar his dues but that Oscar never brought it up again afterward himself. and the mounting anxiety for Lando of what if Oscar got that race win before him? and how much that anxiety must have been at it's peak watching Oscar leading in Miami?? literally I think it would've been too much to humanly expect Lando to cope at all well. I think the absolute least amount of grace we would have given him would be to not go and immediately celebrate it with Oscar but honestly? if he'd decided to just do his post race interviews and slip away quietly until the video with Andrea then none of us would have judged him for it AT ALL. it would have been an unavoidably bittersweet day and knowing what the press and haters would have done to him would have paled in comparison to Lando having to live with knowing that Oscar got there first and so much quicker. and genuinely I think it would have taken a certain amount of shine off of it for Oscar as well and he would not have even slightly expected Lando to put himself through any more of it than strictly necessary for appearances.

(seriously I think we all breathed a sigh of relief over this win as much as we were elated about it !! we will never have to exist in a timeline where Oscar got his race win before Lando)

so not only will Lando have not remotely expected Oscar to show up in parc ferme for a hug, he has clearly counted every moment of Oscar celebrating his win as golden and beyond the call of teammate duty. and that not only did he make sure that posterity recorded Oscar's achievements earlier in that race, he made sure that he thanked him by setting the example of what could be done on just half the upgrades.

we all expected each of the hugs Lando got right after that race. each of those men has helped to raise Lando and has watched him since he was small and awkward and painfully shy and suffering heart-wrenching race results. they needed to hold their boy in his moment of purest happiness.

but none of us could have reasonably assumed how Oscar - only just out of his rookie season and Lando's teammate of just one season and a bit - would react to such a devastating race for himself while also on the biggest day of his teammate's career to date.

one hug would honestly have been a perfectly fine bare minimum and plenty of other drivers would have called that good and begged off.

equally tho one measly hug shouldn't make anyone underestimate how extraordinarily above and beyond and then some Oscar has been for Lando for the past week. that not only has he celebrated it and celebrated Lando, he's done so in proportion to people older than him who have known Lando much longer than him and who are not direct rivals to Lando.

like genuinely, the general F1 fans keep saying what a gentlemen and exemplary one-of-a-kind teammate Oscar has been through all of this and they're absolutely right. we not only got to rejoice in Lando's win, we also get to rejoice that he has a teammate who has proven his worth and made the McLaren driver partnership secure for the years they have to come <3<3

[punkshort]

look what we've become - ch.6

Chapter Summary: You arrive at Ellie's family's house, but it's not what you expected.

Chapter Warnings: language, mentions of child abuse (not SA), mentions of slavery, angst

WC: 6.3K

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Ellie was quiet the next morning, picking slowly at her granola bar and bent over, staring at her book. It was the day you expected to arrive at her aunt and uncle's house, and you had a hunch she was feeling bittersweet about it. When you woke up, you had a pit in your stomach that you assumed had something to the conversation you had with Joel the night before, but as the morning wore on, you realized there was a different reason. You weren't ready to let Ellie go.

"Hey," you said, nudging her knee so she would look up. "You excited to see your family?"

"I guess," she said with a shrug. Joel appeared to only be half listening as he nursed his coffee across from you.

"I'm sure they'll be happy to see you," you replied. "They probably don't even know you're alive. You said you were taken from their house, right?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "After my parents died, they took me in. I can't really remember much, but I know it was nighttime and I had a bag over my head, but I don't remember them breaking into the house, I must've been asleep."

"And it was the Fireflies who took you?" you asked.

"I'm not sure. It wasn't Marlene's group, if it was. There was more of us, they kept us all in this gross basement or something. No one could tell where we were, and whenever they moved us, they had the bags over our heads."

"Jesus," Joel muttered to himself with a shake of his head.

"How do you know it wasn't Marlene?" you asked gently, curious to learn more, but worried about upsetting her.

"Because after a few months, they took me and a couple others to Marlene's camp. She never made us wear the bags," Ellie explained.

"They hurt you?" Joel asked. His eyebrows were pinched as if he were bracing himself.

"A little," she admitted quietly. Your gaze dropped down to your hands, trying not to show her the emotion on your face. "They'd hit us if we weren't working fast enough, or trip us just for fun, I guess."

"I'm so sorry, Ellie," you whispered, reaching out a hand to place on her knee.

You exchanged a pained look with Joel before dropping the subject. At least she was going back home. She might not be excited yet, but you were willing to bet she would be once she saw her family again.

"We're doing the right thing," you murmured to him when you were out of earshot as Ellie packed up her belongings. "I know you weren't on board with this at first, but we're giving her a chance at a decent life."

"Second we get back I'm tellin' Tommy we are cuttin' all ties with these people," he said through gritted teeth. "I don't care what they got to offer."

You nodded, feeling the anger rolling off of him as he aggressively folded up his sleeping bag. You grabbed your pack and kicked dirt over what little fire remained, snuffing out the embers before reviewing the map once more.

Thankfully, her family didn't live within the city itself. Cities were heavily populated, which meant more risk of infected, soldiers, or hostile people. You tended to avoid them at all costs. They lived in a small town outside of the city called Morristown, which didn't have much outside of a post office, a school, and a fire department. The residential homes were built far apart from each other, scattered and disorganized. You got the feeling that people who used to live in this town knew everyone's business, it was so tiny. And you also had the feeling these were the types of people that shot first and asked questions later, given the extent it appeared they went for privacy.

"That's my school!" Ellie said excitedly, pointing down the street. Joel was focused on the map, trying to find the way to Spirit Drive, but you twisted your head so you could see the building she pointed out in the distance.

"That's cool, Ellie," you said warmly, happy to see she finally had a small smile on her face. "What was your favorite subject?"

She went on to tell you about her art class and a teacher she adored, and all the while you stared at her, listening to her stories while your heart ached. You imagined her in that school, with her friends, playing sports, eating lunch, and something inside you burned. It almost felt like jealousy, but that didn't make sense. It was a feeling you couldn't put your finger on, but you thought you knew what it was when you turned down her street, swallowing the lump in your throat when the realization set in that you were minutes away from never seeing her again.

"This the place?" Joel asked Ellie, squinting his eyes between her and the map. The house didn't look like much. It was a small, brick ranch with a long, gravel driveway that led up to a dilapidated grey barn. The hinges on the storm door to the front house were originally black, but now orange with rust. White paint chipped from the door in long strips, and the front garden was long abandoned and overgrown.

"Yeah," she said, looking at the barn.

"Do you think they're still here?" you asked, a flicker of hope igniting in you. Maybe if they weren't here, you could convince Joel to take her back to Jackson.

"Oh, yeah. They're here," she said confidently. You both glanced down at her.

"How're you so sure?" Joel asked, and she tilted her chin up towards the corner of the house. You both followed her gaze, noticing the cameras for the first time. They were small, it was no wonder you missed them, but they were there and definitely working. You could see a little red light flashing in the lens when the camera swooped across the lawn and over the driveway, where you all stood.

Joel slowly flicked his eyes around the house, counting at least seven cameras that he could see from his position. Then his gaze traveled to the barn, where he thought he could make out at least five more.

"How in the hell did you get taken from this place with all these cameras?" he asked. She didn't reply, and he wasn't really expecting an answer.

"So, what do we do?" you asked Joel quietly. "Do we just go up and knock?"

Joel twisted around to glance at Ellie, but she wasn't paying attention. She fidgeted her fingers inside her long sleeves as she stared out across the wide open dusty, dirty land the house was built on.

"I'll go up and knock, you two stay back," he decided, wiping the sweat from the back of his neck before venturing further down the driveway. The sun was blazing, even more so in the desert with little to no shade. You couldn't imagine how uncomfortable Ellie must have been in her long sleeves.

"That's far enough!" a man's voice rang out. Joel stopped dead in his tracks, whipping his head around to try to locate the source. Then he saw movement. An older man with a scraggly grey beard and balding head emerged from the barn, aiming a rifle right at Joel. He held his hands up in the air, showing from a distance that he meant no harm.

"Is that your uncle?" you whispered, holding your hands up as well.

"Yeah, that's Uncle Dave," she said, but she seemed unbothered by the threat. In fact, she shoved her hands in her pockets as she waited for him to approach.

"We aren't lookin' for trouble," Joel called out as Dave slowly made his way closer, his eyes transfixed on Joel. "We're here-"

"Toss your weapons on the ground!" Dave ordered, readjusting his grip on his rifle.

"Okay," Joel said, nodding, and slowly reached around to pluck the handgun from the back of his pants with two fingers. He held it up and gently tossed it on the ground in front of him.

"You too, missy," Dave said without even looking at you. You followed suit, slowly removing your gun and tossing it on the ground at your side. When you were no longer armed, Dave relaxed a bit, letting his shoulder drop but still aiming the rifle at Joel's chest. He finally allowed his gaze to drift behind Joel, looking briefly at you before his eyes landed on Ellie. He hesitated and swallowed roughly before forcing out a harsh chuckle.

"Well, I'll be damned," he said, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Junebug! Get out here, you ain't never gonna believe this!"

A rounder woman with glasses and tight curly blonde hair emerged from the barn behind Dave, a scowl painting her features as she walked forward, aiming a revolver at Joel. When she looked over and noticed Ellie, her expression changed. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise and she let her gun fall to her side.

"Ellie!" the woman cried out, trotting clumsily down the driveway towards you. You looked down at Ellie, expecting her to finally show some excitement, but she only offered them a pained smile.

"Hiya, Aunt June," Ellie said before being enveloped in a huge bear hug.

"Oh, my sweet girl! I thought I would never see you again," June said with tears in her eyes. Dave watched the two reunite from his position in front of Joel, the rifle now slung over his shoulder.

Ellie stepped back and introduced you and Joel to her family. She explained you were helping her and keeping her safe, and the two adults began to warm up to you after that.

"Please, why don't you stay the night?" June offered. "We'll make you dinner and give you a warm bed, it's the least we could do." Ellie turned to you and nodded, a genuine smile finally spreading across her face.

You felt Joel hesitate next to you, but you quickly accepted her offer, not ready to leave Ellie just yet. He gave you a sideways glance before giving June and Dave a tight smile and followed them into the house, only after picking up your weapons from the ground.

The inside of the house matched the outside. It was well lived in and dated, but it was clean. You glanced around the living room, noticing there didn't seem to be any family pictures around, just landscape art and a clock on the wall.

June gave you a brief tour of the small house and showed you their spare bedroom, where you and Joel left your backpacks.

"Why don't you help me in the kitchen, dear, and leave the men to their own devices," June said, her pink cheeks pinching into a smile. You looked at Joel, trying to read his expression. He gave you a quick nod, confirming he was comfortable with being separated, and you returned her smile.

"That sounds great," you told her.

Dave led Joel down into the basement, explaining along the way that he would be 'blown away' by his set up down there. Ellie had mentioned they were preppers, and based on the cameras, you had to assume the basement was remodeled to be a safe room or a bunker.

You helped June chop up vegetables while she kneaded dough to make chicken pot pie. Your mouth watered at the prospect of a home cooked meal.

"We've been traveling for over a week, eating mostly trail mix and rabbit. This will be wonderful, thank you so much," you told her.

"Of course, dear. It's no trouble at all. Ellie!" June called out. Ellie came around the corner, her sketch pad hanging limply at her side.

"C'mon, girl, you forget how to help out around here?" June asked, her brows furrowed for a moment before she realized how harsh she sounded. She turned to you and laughed, her features relaxed again. "Kids, you know?"

You smiled and looked back at Ellie to gauge her reaction. She seemed quiet and closed off, but you brushed it off, chalking it up to the long day.

June held out a butcher knife to her, and Ellie hesitated, her eyes flicking from her aunt to the knife.

"Auntie, please don't make me," she said, eyes wide.

"You know the rules, don't tell me you forgot now," she replied lowly. Ellie reached out a shaky hand to pick up the knife.

"What is this?" you asked, putting your hand out to stop her.

"Well, we need chicken for the chicken pot pie, don't we now?" June said sweetly, and you were beginning to feel like that ruddy smile of hers was a little fake.

"I'll do it," you said, stepping in front of Ellie, hand outstretched for the knife.

"Now, I appreciate the offer, dear, but Ellie understands it's part of her chores, right?" she said, narrowing her eyes at Ellie. She nodded slowly, her gaze drifting to the floor.

"She can chop the vegetables and I'll take care of the chicken," you told her, your tone becoming more insistent.

June's watery eyes wavered between you and Ellie as she weighed her options. You glanced down at the butcher knife in her red, flour covered hands, then looked back at her.

"I insist," you said darkly, dropping the fake pleasantries. June's gaze dragged up to remain locked on you.

"Girl's gotta learn to be comfortable with killing," she replied, but you reached out and snatched the knife from her grip before she had a chance to blink.

"That's alright, I could use some practice, myself," you told her, refusing to break eye contact.

The tension in the room was thick, even Ellie was shifting her weight, trying to make herself as small as possible. You waited for June to try to argue with you again or say something to Ellie that didn't sit right, but it never came. As if storm clouds passed, her eyes cleared up and she blinked at you, a smile spreading across her flushed cheeks.

"Well, then," she said, dusting her hands on her apron. "Coop's out back. Suppose we should thank our guest, right Ellie?" June said, raising an eyebrow at the girl. Ellie nodded and looked up at you.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"No problem, kid," you muttered, giving June one last glance before heading out the back door.

"This here's an AK-47, got maybe six of these fuckers," Dave said, his fingertips grazing the weapon on the wall as he passed. "Just about anything you can think of, I probably got two of 'em."

For someone who hoarded weapons in an underground bunker, Joel would have thought the man would be a little more subtle. A little less eager to show a complete stranger his entire stash. But then again, men like Dave loved to show off. If they couldn't boast about it, then what was the point?

"Real nice set up you got here," Joel murmured, knowing the man was waiting for a compliment. Dave's chest puffed with pride before he opened a sliding door in the back of the basement, revealing a small room filled with different sized monitors, cameras all cycling through the different angles he had covering his property. Joel was wrong: he had way more than just the cameras he saw. They rotated to different views all around the outside of the house. He noticed the only cameras that were monitoring indoors were in the barn where he saw an old John Deere tractor and a pickup truck flash on the screen.

"Jesus," Joel whispered, taking a step forward, but still not entering the small room. "How the hell you manage to watch these all the time?"

"Ah," Dave said proudly, tapping his finger against his temple. "I got motion alerts. Sends out an alarm when I'm sleeping or taking a shit or whatever. Gets annoying, though. Mostly just birds or other animals, so I turn it off during the day. But sometimes... sometimes I get something good."

"Like us?" Joel said, and Dave laughed.

"Yeah... yep, exactly like you," he replied, trailing off as he stared at Joel.

"Y'know," Dave said after a moment, stepping back to shut the door. "There's folks around here who pay good money for things, if you're ever in the market to buy or sell."

"We don't got much, but we're doin' just fine," Joel said, beginning to feel uneasy.

"Nah, see, that's where you're wrong, friend," Dave replied, pouring two glasses of whiskey and handing one to Joel. "You do got somethin'."

Joel held the glass tightly, bringing it up to his lips and pretending to take a sip before setting it down. Something told him he should keep his wits about him. He raised his eyebrows at Dave, waiting for him to continue.

"That girl with you up there," he began, and Joel felt his stomach twist at the mention of you. "She would fetch you a fair price with the folks I know."

Joel froze, doing his damndest to not let his emotions show. The pieces were starting to click. He clenched his jaw and swallowed lightly before taking a deep breath.

"That right?" he replied, urging him to continue. He needed to get back upstairs, for the first time realizing you all might be in danger.

"Hell yeah. Medicine, food, weapons. I'm sure of it," he said with a click of his tongue. "I make one radio call and they could be here in two days."

"Hm," Joel replied, clenching his fists behind his back. "Lemme think on it, yeah?"

"Sure, sure," he said with a wave. "Don't think too long, though. One day, someone'll take her. It's just a matter of if you get to benefit from it or not, you get me?"

Jesus fucking Christ.

"Yeah," Joel said. "I get you."

Joel decided you weren't leaving his sight. He was relieved when June called down, letting them know dinner was ready, so he could make sure you were okay without making an excuse to leave and raise suspicion. A man like Dave with a whole arsenal at his disposal wasn't someone he wanted to tangle with. He had to be careful.

A cynical part of him wondered if he should be worried about the food, but he knew you helped prepare it. You were smart, you would have noticed if something was going on.

But when he climbed the stairs and locked eyes with you, he knew something was wrong. You didn't show it, but he could tell by the way your smile didn't reach your eyes.

He settled down at the table as you and June scooped out the meal on everyone's your plates while Ellie silently brought everyone glasses of water. When she set Joel's down, he tried to catch her eye, but she wouldn't look at him.

"Ellie, why don't you get Joel 'n me whiskies. You ladies want anything stronger?" Dave asked, tucking his napkin into his shirt. You shook your head and politely declined as you took your seat next to Joel, your knee purposely knocking against his under the table. He glanced at you, your lips pressed in a thin line as you looked down at your food, not wanting to raise suspicion but desperately wanting to warn him that these people seemed off.

"You know, I've been meaning to try that margarita mix we traded for last week," June said thoughtfully. "Ellie, let me show you how to make it." June waddled out of the kitchen and into the living room, behind Ellie. You heard their voices carrying over faintly as June instructed her how to make her drink.

"This looks great, honey. What's in it?" Joel asked, turning and giving you a pointed look. Honey. He never called you that. It got your attention, and you gave him a quick, curious look before you understood his underlying question. Is this safe to eat? Your gaze drifted back to Dave, who was watching the two of you talk.

"Just normal stuff," you told him. "Nothing special. Veggies, chicken."

His eyes bored into yours, trying to communicate silently with you. You figured it out. Something happened in the basement that worried him, the same way June's behavior worried you.

"Alright, let's dig in!" June said cheerily, entering the kitchen with a yellow drink in her hand. Ellie followed dutifully behind with two glasses of whiskey, placing them in front of the men before sitting across from you.

"This is great, Junebug," Dave told his wife after a few forkfuls. June smiled as she sipped from her glass. You and Joel choked down the meal, offering your compliments and thanks once again, while Ellie silently pushed her food around her plate.

"Not a whiskey man, Joel?" Dave asked, his eyes growing glassy from the drink he had in the basement and now his second one.

"It's just been a long journey," Joel explained, but took a small sip anyway. "Feelin' real tired, is all."

Ellie glanced up and looked at Joel, knowing full well he wasn't tired. In the short time she knew him, it was like pulling teeth to admit he was tired. She looked back and forth between him and you, trying to read your faces without being obvious.

"Quit playing with your food," June told her harshly, finishing up her margarita. "You should be so lucky to have a roof over your head and food in your belly."

Joel stiffened next to you but didn't look up from his plate, his mind racing, trying to formulate a plan.

"You know what? That drink looked good," you said suddenly. "Ellie, why don't you show me if you remember how to make it?" You stood up from the table and Ellie jumped to her feet to follow you.

"Bring me another, too," June barked as Ellie followed you around the corner to the bar cart in the living room.

"What the hell is going on here, Ellie?" you muttered quietly, picking up the margarita mixer and pouring it into a glass.

"It's how they always are," she whispered. "They aren't exactly good with kids, but it's fine."

"No, it's not fine," you whispered back, holding your hand out to keep her from pouring tequila in your glass, choosing to just drink the mixer, not wanting alcohol to dull your senses. You nudged her hand to make her pour a little extra tequila in her aunt's glass. "This isn't how you should be living."

"Well, I don't have much of a choice, do I?" she asked sharply before turning on her heel and heading back into the kitchen. You trailed after her, finding your seat next to Joel and taking a sip of the fake drink and trying to ignore the guilt. You had no idea how you were going to be able to leave her behind with these people.

You helped June clean up the dishes after dinner while the men filed into the living room. Joel had drank his first glass, but held up his hand when Dave offered a second, rubbing his eyes and reminding him how tired he felt. He needed to get you alone and get you the hell out of here, paranoid that Dave would call those people to do a "trade" for you like he was already suspecting happened originally with Ellie. What else would explain kidnappers being able to bypass his security system?

As if reading his mind, Dave asked "Think any more about what I told you downstairs?"

Joel yawned, trying to hide his anger by contorting his face.

"Lemme sleep on it, get back to you in the mornin', I'm beat," he said, hoping he wasn't laying it on too thick. If he was, Dave didn't seem to notice, the whiskey doing its job by keeping him oblivious.

"Alright now, Ellie. Time to get ready for bed," June said, her drink sloshing in her glass. "Say goodbye and thank you to your friends."

You could see the despair in Ellie's face. Trying hard not to cry, you wrapped her in a hug and whispered it will be okay in her ear before pulling back, swallowing hard. She was about to reach for her sketch pad when, much to your surprise, Joel suddenly leaned down and pulled her into a hug. Ellie also looked shocked, not sure what to do at first but eventually brought her arms up around his ribs. You thought you could see him whisper something in her ear, but it happened so fast, you weren't sure.

"Okay, off you go," June told her, and Ellie quickly walked down the hall without another word. You watched her go, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

You sat next to Joel, trying to appear interested in what her aunt and uncle were talking about, but you realized it didn't matter the more they drank. Joel's hand dropped on the couch next to you, grasping your hand and stroking his thumb over your knuckles. You looked up at him sadly as he tried to wordlessly say it's okay, I'll get us out of this.

After another hour, Dave stood to tend to the fire, stumbling in the process. June chuckled, her face redder than usual.

"Time for bed, old man," she teased, and he grunted in response, pushing a log around with the poker before straightening back up.

"Suppose you're right, Junebug," he replied. You could hear the alcohol in his voice, the way he spoke slightly louder and slower than usual.

"You two need anything, you just holler," June said, pushing herself off the couch. "Clean sheets are in the closet."

You and Joel stood, watching as they made their way slowly down the hall to their bedroom, June mumbling to Dave until their door quietly clicked shut.

You immediately swiveled around to Joel but he clamped a hand over your mouth, shaking his head. You nodded and he removed his hand, leading you down the other end of the hall to the guest room, and shut the door.

"Joel-"

He held his finger to his lips before he made his way around the room, checking the furniture and closet for any possible hidden cameras or bugs. When he was satisfied, he finally spoke.

"Don't get comfortable. When they fall asleep, we're leavin'," he whispered.

"We can't leave her here," you said, sweeping your arm towards the door.

"I know," he said, and you breathed a sigh of relief. "They'll sell her off again the first chance they get."

"Wait, what?" you asked, eyes wide. "I thought someone snatched her?"

"I really fuckin' doubt it," Joel said, running his fingers through his hair. "When we were in the basement, that asshole was tryin' to convince me to sell you to slavers. Said if I don't do it, somebody'll take and sell you anyway. Sounded awful lot like a threat, if you ask me."

"Jesus Christ, Joel!" you whispered, wrapping your arms around your ribs and pacing nervously around the room. "So you think they sold Ellie into slavery? Their own niece?"

"Wouldn't put it past 'em. You should see the shit he's got in that basement. Must've cost a fortune. I'm sure Ellie wasn't the only one they sold off."

It started to make sense. The way June spoke to and treated Ellie like she was a servant didn't leave you feeling warm and fuzzy.

"But they seemed so happy to see her," you said, thinking back.

"Yeah, probably saw her as another paycheck. Two for one," Joel said with a scoff.

"So what's the plan?" you asked him, biting on your fingernail anxiously.

"Give it an hour or so," he began, sitting down on the bed. "Make sure they're passed out. Then, you go get the kid, and I'll go to the basement. I gotta figure out how to turn off the motion alerts on those cameras so they don't wake up. Then we get the fuck outta here."

"Okay," you said quietly, sitting down next to him, stunned. Twenty minutes ago, you just thought they were bad guardians. You had no idea it was this bad. You buried your face in your hands, feeling guilty for bringing Ellie back into this house. You should have fought harder to get her to stay in Jackson. Now, you all ended up in danger, anyway.

"We have to try to warn Tommy and Maria," you whispered. "What if something happens? It'll take us a week to get home."

"Maybe not," Joel replied. "I saw on his cameras that they got a truck in that barn."

Joel stuck his head out into the hallway, craning his neck to listen for any movement from the master bedroom. After a few minutes of silence, he looked back at you and nodded. Quietly, you followed him down the hall, pausing outside of Ellie's room. Before you could open the door, Joel put his hand over yours. He cupped your face and quickly pressed a kiss against your lips, then pulled back to look deep into your eyes while his thumb caressed your cheek.

I'll get us out of here, I'll keep us safe.

You nodded, understanding without him having to say a word. He dropped his hand and made his way down the hall to the basement door, clicking on his flashlight before descending the stairs.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly pushed the bedroom door open. You took care to close it gently behind you, then turned around to find Ellie fully dressed and waiting for you at the foot of her bed.

"Hey," you whispered, and she stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

"I'm ready," she whispered back.

"How did you-"

"Joel told me," she said quietly. "He said to keep my bag packed, and not to fall asleep."

So he did whisper something in her ear when he hugged her.

"Okay, good," you breathed, trying to hide your nervousness.

"I packed all new clothes, and a few other things I wanted. Do you think I need anything else?"

"You have your flashlight?" you asked.

"Yep. And I got this," she said, proudly reaching into her pants pocket and pulling out a switchblade.

"Where did you get that?"

"Does it matter?" she replied.

"Just be careful with that thing, put it away," you told her. She folded it back up and shoved it into her jeans.

You poked your head out of her door, making sure the coast was clear before taking a step out. You made it two feet before Ellie's hand shot out and grabbed your arm, pulling you back into her room just in time. The master bedroom door swung open and June hobbled out in her nightgown, making her way groggily to the bathroom. You and Ellie stood with your ears pressed against the bedroom door, listening intently as the toilet flushed and the sink ran.

"Where's Joel?" Ellie mouthed.

You pointed down to the floor and mouthed back basement.

You waited until you heard her door click shut and the squeak of the boxspring before opening Ellie's door again. Silently, you made your way down the hall and to the dark kitchen, where you waited for Joel.

"What's he doing?" she said as softly as possible.

"Motion sensors," was all you said back. She shook her head.

"He won't know - I'll do it," she replied, and before you could stop her, she opened the door and made her way down the steps, turning her flashlight on in the process. You went after her as quickly and quietly as you could, knowing Joel wouldn't expect you to be down there.

You entered the bunker, taking a second to gawk at all the guns adorned on the walls. There was also an elaborate looking radio and a workbench filled with electrical parts. You passed five dressers that looked to be filled with different types of ammunition, and you thought you even saw a couple grenades.

"Joel," you whispered, and you heard him shuffle near the back of the room. You swung your flashlight towards the noise, your heart pounding in your ears. He stepped out from behind a tall shelf of canned goods, shaking his head and holstering his revolver.

"This wasn't the plan," he scolded with a deep frown, but before you could explain, Ellie pushed past you both and made her way to the little room in the back that housed all of the security system equipment.

"Ellie!" Joel whispered, going after her.

"I know what I'm doing," she said over her shoulder. He glanced back at you and you shrugged.

"There, the alarm is turned off and so is the recording," she said, emerging from the room. Joel gave her a confused look.

"Recording?" you repeated.

"Yeah, the cameras record everything. So they won't know what direction we go when they wake up tomorrow and try to review the footage," she explained, looking at you like it was obvious before heading to the stairs.

"Did you know-" you began to ask, but Joel cut you off.

"Hey, wait," he whispered, making Ellie stop on the bottom step. He unscrewed the cap of whiskey Dave had shared with him earlier and poured it all over the radio, watching as it sparked a bit. And for good measure, he cut the wire that powered the device before making his way toward the stairs, pushing past Ellie to lead you both out of the house.

Joel led you to the barn, maneuvering on the soft grass instead of the noisy gravel. There was a standard padlock on the door, which he was able to break relatively easily with his hunting knife. He was beginning to realize Ellie's aunt and uncle had all the appearances of being survivalists, but lacked most of the skills. He had lost count of the things he would have done differently if he was defending his own home.

Still, he didn't want to wake them when he was so close to safety. So, he put the truck in neutral and had Ellie steer from the driver's seat while the two of you pushed the car down the long driveway, waiting until it reached the road before making Ellie move to the back and starting it up.

He drove for a few hours until you were both struggling to keep your eyes open, the adrenaline that was previously fueling you both long since worn off.

"Let's pull off here, maybe we can find some gas before we head out in the mornin'," Joel said softly, trying not to wake Ellie.

"Okay," you said quietly, staring out the window as he got off the interstate. He drove for another half hour until he found a volunteer fire hall.

There were a few abandoned cars in the large lot when you pulled in. Joel parked the truck and turned to you.

"Lemme go in and check it out, you stay with the kid," he said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"I'll come with you," you said, but he held out his hand.

"Stay," he repeated firmly, and you shook your head.

"What if-"

"Just do as your told for once," he snapped. You clamped your mouth shut, too tired to argue. He was clearly annoyed that you improvised back at the house and brought Ellie in the basement.

"Fine," you seethed, and he slid out of the truck. You watched with your arms crossed as he approached the door, shining his flashlight inside the window before working on the lock and pushing his way in. You could see the beam of his flashlight through the windows as he moved from room to room, carefully checking out each one before finally coming back out to let you know it was clear.

"Ellie," you whispered, nudging her shoulder gently. Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up with a yawn, turning around to try to figure out where you were.

"We're gonna stay here for the rest of the night and try to get some sleep before hitting the road tomorrow," you explained as you hopped out of the truck.

She silently followed you into the building, where Joel was waiting, holding the door open. He led you both up the stairs where the firefighters had a small living space with bunk beds. Ellie snagged the first one she saw, curling up with the blanket that was already draped over the bed and falling back asleep.

"You good?" Joel asked, looking over as you flopped down on one of the beds.

"Yeah, are you?" you replied. He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Long fuckin' day," he murmured.

"Why don't I keep watch tonight and you get some rest, I'll sleep in the car tomorrow," you told him. You could tell he wanted to argue with you but his exhaustion won.

"Yeah, alright," he agreed after a moment.

You stood back up, checking your gun before heading back downstairs. After you peeked out the windows to confirm everything was all quiet, you wandered around the first floor a bit. It looked like after the outbreak, the building may have acted as a safe zone. There were abandoned bags, cots, blankets, and trash overflowing in the bins.

You were looking through some duffel bags for anything useful when you heard a noise outside. You froze, quickly pulling your gun from the back of your jeans as you made your way cautiously out into the room. At first glance, your flashlight didn't show anything out of the ordinary. You were about to give up when you heard the same noise again. Whipping to your left, you advanced towards the sound with your gun drawn.

The last thing you remember is a hand gripping your throat from behind and a needle slipping into your neck.

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo @iloveramensm @caitlynsixxx @anoverwhelmingdin @harriedandharassed @jessthebaker @txtattoostark @merz-8 @sarap-77 @sarahhxx03

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Walls Are Crumbling: Part 2

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: You and Benedict announce your engagement to the rest of the Bridgerton family. They're ecstatic for you, as Benedict told you they'd be. But you still can't help but feel guilty for bringing Benedict into your mess.

A/N: oh no. i guess im gonna turn this into a mini series...

Part 1

Everyone in the sitting room cheers after you and Benedict announce your engagement. Anthony and Kate give the pair of you soft smiles and knowing looks. Of course Anthony told his wife. He could never hide anything from her.

"Well, I must say this isn't too much of a surprise," Violet Bridgerton stands from her spot and walks towards you, "We all had a feeling this was going to happen eventually."

You smile at the woman you saw as another mother, "Trust me, Violet, I'm just as surprised as you are."

Benedict gives you a nudge, silently telling you to shush. He then speaks up, "Yes, it seemed that both of us had been harboring feelings for each other for a long time. Didn't see a reason as to why we needed to prolong marriage. Therefore, in month's time, we seek to marry."

Eloise grimaces, "But that's so soon."

Benedict's hand intertwines in yours, "Well, Eloise, I've waited too long to have Y/N as mine, so the sooner we wed, the better."

"But not too soon," you pointedly say, "which is why we decided in month's time," you add, just in case someone else suggests you two marry today, like Anthony did last night.

"Did you tell your mother already, Y/N, dear?" Violet asks curiously.

You nod, "Yes, and it went as you'd expect it to."

The dowager viscountess gives you a tight lip look. She wasn't fond of your mother and how she treats you. She especially doesn't like how she viewed your friendship with Benedict as a waste.

"Second sons have nothing to offer," she's said often.

Kate approaches you, arm looping through yours, "Sorry, brother-in-law, may I steal her for a moment?"

Benedict cocks a brow at you, silently asking if you'll be okay. You nod, "I'll be back," you let go of his hand and follow Kate, whom is guiding you outside of the sitting room and into the hall. There, she asks you to tell her everything, since Anthony only gave her bits and pieces.

While you and the Viscountess talk, Anthony joins his younger brother, "Do you really think you should do this?"

Benedict looks at his brother with annoyance on his face, "If I don't, she'd be left off to her own. I can't let that happen, especially with a child on the way."

"A child that isn't even yours, brother."

He shakes his head and shrugs, "I don't care. I will love them as my own. They are part Y/N, so surely, I'd love them." He then scowls, "Lord Mattias is a coward for this."

"I'd argue that you're just as cowardly," Anthony murmurs, a hint of a smirk on his lips, "Marrying the woman you love and yet not even telling her how you feel."

Benedict scoffs, "As if I should be taking advice from you on how to handle love," he cocks a brow at his older brother, knowing the debacle between him, Kate, and Edwina.

Anthony's jaw clenches and he doesn't say another word, which leaves Benedict to chuckle. He pats his brother on the shoulder, "I'll tell her...eventually. Things are going to be chaotic for her already. I don't want to cause her any more stress. It'll be bad for her and the baby."

Anthony hums and walks away from Benedict, deciding to stand beside Colin, whom is sitting on chaise lounge chair.

__________________________

1 Month Later

You managed to have wedding dress made fairly quickly. Well, Lady Danbury definitely put in a good word for you that helped speed up the process. Your wedding, albeit not ideal, was still perfect. Although your words of love to Benedict during the ceremony were....not completely true, you still found yourself tearing up when Benedict repeated his vows to you. You thought marrying your closest friend would be weird, but throughout the duration of the month leading up to the wedding, it became less of that and more comforting.

Time and time again did Benedict reassure he wasn't going to leave you behind for the wolves, that he'd be there for you and for the baby. That you'd be well taken care of.

Post-wedding, the dinner was a bit overwhelming. So many people were congratulating you, echoing the same words everyone else had "We all knew this would happen eventually". But what exactly did that mean? Sure, a few years ago, you harbored feelings for Benedict, but did everyone see it? Benedict couldn't have seen it too, right?

"Y/N?" he squeezes your hand and you didn't even realize he was holding it.

You look up from your plate, "Hm? Sorry."

"Are you alright?"

"I-I think I'd like some air," you whisper back to him.

"Would you like me to come with you?"

You're hesitant to say yes, but your head moves before your mouth does. You're nodding and Benedict is immediately on his feet and excuses the both of you. Everyone watches the two of you exit the dining room, the chatter continues as you leave.

Benedict silently follows you to the tree that has the swings you two used to play on when you were young. once sat on one of the swings, your hand immediately going to your belly. You've been doing that a lot in these past weeks, just not in front of others beside Anthony and Benedict.

"Is something wrong?" he nods to your hand on your belly.

You shake your head, "Not with the baby, no. But I just-" you let out another deep breath, "This is all so much. I-I-" your eyes are tearing up, "I don't like that I've brought you into my mess."

Benedict kneels before you and grabs your hands into his, "Y/N, listen to me, you did not force me to do this. I offered to marry you because I care about you and I'd hate for anything bad to happen to you. You are my dearest friend. I won't let anything bad happen to you. Ever. Do you understand me?" thumbs away your tears as you nod, "Good." He stands up and kisses your head, "Do you want to go back?"

"Can we stay here for a little longer?"

"Whatever my wife wants."

"I have to get used to hearing that," you mumble as you start to slowly move yourself back and forth on the swing.

Benedict watches you with soft eyes, eventually moving himself on the swing.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Movie Night

kol mikaelson x reader (minor poly!mikaelsons x reader) | requested

summary: kol is unsure about letting his siblings meet you, afraid they'd scare you away and he'd lose his best friend (and the girl he's in love with). but when he finally brings you home one night, his family has a reaction he never would've expected.

tags: mutual crush / pining, flirting, confessions

word count: 2.1k

“They asked to meet you again,” Kol says suddenly, “I keep saying no, but they keep asking.”

You smile a little, curiosity peaked. “What’s the harm?”

“They’re… difficult sometimes. You know how families are.” He bites his tongue, afraid to say too much. You two are best friends; very loving and protective of each other. But there seems to be only two responses that the Mikaelsons ever give: complete obsession or extreme dislike. They could either love you or hate you, and Kol’s not sure which is worse. 

“Yeah, but what family isn’t complicated? I’m sure they’re not so bad.”

“Y/N,” he sighs, tone somber, “are you forgetting my brother is Klaus Mikaelson? The greatly feared hybrid that terrorized Mystic Falls before he even arrived to town? And the rest of them are only a diluted version of his madness.”

“You aren’t.”

“You didn’t see me in the 1600s, darling.”

“Well that was then and this is now. I’m not afraid, Kol. I know you’ll keep me safe if they try anything.”

“You know I will. They wouldn’t dare.”

“Then there’s no reason to worry.” You give him another smile. 

As soon as he meets your eyes, he looks down immediately. Your smile gives him butterflies. Kol would be lying if he said he didn’t harbor a little crush on you. That’s part of the reason he doesn’t want you to meet them - he’s afraid they’ll scare you away and you’ll want nothing to do with him. “I’ll try not to,” he finally replies. 

A few minutes go by before you groan and shuffle in place. “This line isn’t going anywhere.”

The wait time on the screen says fifteen minutes, but it’s been way longer than that. You take a sip of the drink balanced in your arms amongst popcorn and snacks. 

“I guess that’s what we get for trying to see a new movie on opening night.”

“Do you still want to see it?”

Kol’s juggling his own handfuls, or else he would’ve taken yours so you wouldn’t have to carry it. When he realized he couldn’t carry yours on top of his own, he apologized. It’s little things like that that make you want to cross the best friend boundary. He’s just so sweet, funny, and gentlemanly. Though you have yourself convinced that you’re way out of his league. I mean, come on - why would an original vampire date a mere human? You shook your head a little to send the thought away. 

“Eventually, yeah. But I’m not so committed to this line.” 

Lost in your head, you forgot you asked him a question. It takes you a second to ponder a response, but then he continues, 

“Alright, how about this? We’ve already got the drinks and snacks, so why don’t we go to my house and watch something there? It’s plenty dark, usually quiet. It’ll be just like the movies.”

“Wait, did you say at your house?” Usually your own house is the movie destination. Did Kol just propose to go to his instead?

He shrugs, “my family wants to meet you, you aren’t intimidated by them. They might be there and I could introduce you, or we could slip in and watch a movie in peace.” You’re stunned for a minute, and he starts to take it as hesitation. “Unless you don’t want to. I understand completely if you don’t.”

“No, we should! I’d love to meet your family, Kol, no matter how scary.”

“Okay.” He puts a smile over top of his worry while he fishes his keys from his coat pocket. “I’ll drive.”

On the short ride to his house, he gives you a basic rundown of each of his siblings. He knows you already know most of what he’s telling you, but it distracts him from his nerves. And you, recognizing he seems more antsy than usual, listen quietly. 

“So to summarize, they’re all pretty outspoken, very protective, and often threatening, but if you’re someone they care about, you have nothing to fear.”

Kol swallows hard at that. You’ve got it on the nose, but your awareness doesn’t give him much comfort. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay, cool. Let’s go.”

To his horror, all three siblings are in the living room at that moment. As soon as the two of you enter, all eyes snap to you. 

“Well that was a quick movie,” Rebekah had started. Then she sees her brother’s company. “And who might you be?”

“Bex, Nik, ‘Lijah, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is the family.”

“Hi!” You greet them with a smile.

For a second, they only stare. Though Elijah’s first to speak, “Very nice to meet you, Y/N. I suppose you are the friend my brother speaks of so often?” When you nod, he continues. “My, was he right when he said you were beautiful. Those e/c eyes remind me so much of the stained glass windows they used to make in the 1100s. Kol, do you recall it?”

Once he gets over the perplexed feeling running in his head, Kol clears his throat. “I do, brother. And yes, Y/N is quite beautiful, as I told you. She’s a good friend.”

“More than beautiful,” Klaus compliments, “she’s a work of art. Would you like to sit, love?” 

Your face turns red as the men praise your features. Your response comes out in a stutter. “U-um, I’m okay. The movie we tried to see had a really long line, so Kol suggested we just come here to watch one instead.”

“Kol suggested it? I’m surprised he would let us meet you. He’d been denying our curiosities for months.”

“Don’t put her on the spot, Nik, she’s-”

“Oh, she’s fine, brother. She’s doing well for someone in her position. Y’know,” Klaus twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers, “it must be quite intimidating to meet a whole family of original vampires all at once.”

Don’t scare her, Niklaus! Ease up on the poor girl,” Rebekah interrupts, swatting his hand from you. “And don’t touch her without her permission.”

“I’m sorry, love. Your hair just looked too soft.”

“It’s alright. But um, yeah, it’s a bit intimidating, but I’m not easily shaken.” You straighten your back. “I was actually wanting to meet you all, too.”

“See if we live up to the tales?” Rebekah teases. Her eyes stare into yours, and you find it hard to maintain eye contact. 

“Not really,” you admit, “just wanted to meet Kol’s siblings. Out of curiosity.”

“Ah. So are your expectations met?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know what to expect.”

Elijah then steps forward. “Tell us this, Miss Y/N. Do you feel safe in this moment? Or would you like Kol to take you away from here?”

It’s an odd question, even to Kol. The man’s throat dries and he narrows his eyes. Is his brother threatening or welcoming you? 

“I um…”

“Please, be honest.”

“I’m good. I mean, I feel safe.”

Elijah’s straight lips curve into a smile. “Delightful. It was an honor meeting you, Miss Y/N.”

“T-thank you. You too, Elijah. All of you, I’m glad we got to meet.”

“I second that,” Klaus approaches you again, “what a lovely girl my brother’s brought home to meet the family.”

“Friends, Niklaus,” Elijah mutters under his breath. It’s quiet, but you can still hear it. “He’s said they’re just friends.”

Klaus gives the man a look, like he’s doubtful of that, but then turns back to you. “Apologies. What a lovely friend you are to my brother. Perhaps, if you’re available later, we can talk more. I’ll show you one of my favorite paintings. The shade is just like that of your skin.” His eyes travel your body like it’s a piece of art, and you can’t help but blush. 

“Okay. I’ll be sure to stay a while after the movie.”

“Wonderful!”

The eldest two leave you with the youngest two. Kol, teeth clenched in aggravation, turns to direct you to his room. His sister, however, beats him to your attention. 

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N, as my brothers have said. My, my, I sure do see why Kol speaks so highly of you.” She smirks a little. “Enjoy your movie, and if you need anything, I’m just down the hall.” As she walks away, she flashes you a wink, then disappears. 

Kol wastes no time bringing you to the lounge room where he and Bex used to kill time some hundred years ago. He explained in the car that they’d watch old black and white films in there together, while their brothers were off running amuck. Even now, they still retire to the darkened room for the occasional movie. 

“Sorry about that,” he says the minute he shuts the door. 

You cock your head at him. “Sorry about what?”

“Them.”

“What about it? They were nice.”

“Y/N…”

“What? Were they not nice? Is that their ‘not nice’ behavior?”

“No, darling. That was actually the nicest I’ve ever seen them.”

“Then what’s the-”

“They were all flirting with you, darling. Ogling you. Not a care about it.”

“Oh,” you whisper, realizing he might be right. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. We shouldn’t’ve come here.”

“Wait, Kol, it’s alright. I don’t mind.”

“No, it was totally inappropriate. In fact, I should talk to them about not doing it in the future.” He starts to rant. You’ve learned to not interrupt Kol when he’s ranting, because he’ll miss every word you say. “God, I didn’t want them to see you because I thought they’d scare you off, but I didn’t think they’d so openly hit on you! Elijah, too, where did his manners go? And I mean, I know why they were. You’re gorgeous, Y/N, and I’d want you, too, but…” he stops, realizing what he had admitted. 

Your heart leaps out of your chest, but then falls to the hard ground all at once. I’d want you, too, but…

“But what?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Kol.”

“It’s nothing, darling.”

“Kol, tell me. Please!”

He takes a deep breath. “I can’t have you. I can’t put you in that kind of danger. Being your friend puts you at risk enough, but if we were anything more, you’d become a target. I can’t let that happen; I can’t let anything bad happen to you.” One glance, he allows himself to take, before dropping his eyes back to the ground. He sees your frown, but misses the way your eyes search for him. “Besides… you’re better off with a human, not someone with such a violent past like myself.”

“Well I’d like to disagree with that last part,” you snort, “your past doesn’t matter to me. Right now is what matters. Also, being a vampire doesn’t make you violent. Plenty of humans are violent.”

“That’s not the point, Y/N, I’m saying-”

“I know what you’re trying to say. But I’m saying I like you regardless of whatever you’ve done in your past. And - since you already admitted it, what’s the harm in me saying it, too? - I like you. More than a friend. I have for a while.”

Finally, he looks up at you and doesn’t break eye contact. “You do?”

“How could I not?”

“But what if you get hurt? If we were to have something?”

“Well, one, you’d protect me. You already do, so why would it be any different now? Two, I don’t care. If that’s the only thing standing in the way of us trying this out, then we’ll just have to face it head-on. And who knows? Maybe it’ll never happen. But I want to be with you, if you want it too.”

“More than you know, darling.”

“Okay,” you breathe out, giddy with excitement. “So what first, boyfriend?” You test the term out, tasting it on your tongue. You like it. 

Kol’s smile tells you he likes it, too. “Well I have a great idea for our first date. How about a home movie?”

“Perfect idea. What time?”

“Right now.”

The two of you move to the couch and assemble your drinks and snacks. Only this time, when you sit beside one another, he can confidently put an arm around your back to pull you close. 

“A true gentleman waits until at least one date to kiss the girl,” he mutters into your ear, “but that’s not counting these.” Then, you feel a quick kiss to your cheek. 

Your face blushes instantly. “Okay, so how about you press play so we can get to the end of the night?” 

He senses your quickened heart rate at the thought of getting to kiss him for real. It makes his own heart race, too, but he holds himself back. Instead, he gives you another kiss on the cheek in the meantime. “Oh, we’re just getting started, darling.”

[wisteria-blooms]

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (8/??)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST AT THE BOTTOM! (Let me know if you'd like to be added or if I've missed you!) A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out! I've been experimenting using my iPad + keyboard to edit which messed up my coordination on my laptop, if that's any excuse. It's just been hard to edit in this little rut where I can't bear to read what I write, but stick around, things are going to get exciting after this...

(GIF credits to @alicent-targaryen; I have so much trouble properly crediting when the GIF isn't the first in the set, ahh).

CHAPTER 8: Foolishly thinking things would slow down after Charlie moved in with you, you find that you're dead wrong. In fact, he finds a new way to integrate into your life: by attending the highly-anticipated book club meeting your mother had invited you to. But as you watch women flock to him like bees to honey, you find another problem to deal with, one that involves your heart. (6.6k words)

CHAPTER 8: TEA TIME (YOU'RE SO VAIN)

And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner, they'd be your partner...

“(Y/N)! Congratulations on the new place—”

“It’s every bit as beautiful as Bill described to us—”

“Perfect for a new couple, truly—”

Fred and George strode through the ajar door while talking amongst themselves as if they were walking into their own place. They displayed absolutely no respect for your sacred space. However, you felt no need to stop them from where you were in the kitchen—you were expecting them on this lovely Friday afternoon. After all, you’d invited them.

George cradled a large, wrapped box. He was strong but you could tell it was heavy by the slight strain in his arms. Fred, conversely, easily held a bottle of wine adorned with a ribbon on the neck.

“Thought we’d bring some housewarming gifts,” George said, setting his present on the counter.

“Had to guess most of it, as you and Charlie didn’t have a registry of any sorts,” Fred quipped, a smug look on his face, proud of his insinuation of you being married.

“Very funny.” You rolled your eyes. “When are you going to give that up? You seem to be the only ones who know the truth, but refuse to acknowledge it.”

You should’ve expected their answer that was given in unison: “Never.” 

“I do appreciate the gifts,” you said earnestly. Underneath their teasing tones, Fred and George were still your greatest friends, and you were appreciative of their generosity.

You laid two palms on the box George had set on your kitchen island. “What’s this?” 

“Open it up and see,” offered George. 

Delicately, you began to unwrap the gift, plucking the tape off and careful not to rip the paper. 

“Save us the anticipation and just rip it open, will you?” Fred suggested, finishing off his remark with an animalistic shake of his head, like he was a lion tearing his prey’s flesh. The prey being your present.

“I’ve been conditioned not to do that,” you explained with a gentle sigh, recalling all your mother’s scoldings when you used to tear into presents as a child. When you set the edges of the wrapping paper down, you beamed at what was in the box. “An espresso machine! Really, Georgie?”

George nodded proudly. “Figured you’d need your coffee first thing in the morning.”

You enveloped him in a warm hug. “Oh, you know me so well.”

George rolled up his sleeves. “I‘ll get it set up,” he offered.

“And I’ve procured some wine for when you need a sleeping aid,” Fred added.

“Thank you,” you responded. “ Now I’ll have my morning and nights covered.”

Fred placed a hand on your shoulder and gently guided you away. “Let’s see Charlie’s room.”

You stiffened. How many times and to how many people were you going to have to explain this one? “It’s not his room.”

“Then what is it?” Fred queried innocently.

“It’s a guest bedroom.”

“We can debate the semantics of the love lair”—Fred had to suppress a laugh when your face contorted menacingly, and even George tried to stifle his laugh—“ but for now, give me and Georgie a tour of the this lovely place, will you?”

When the two jests had finally left after dinner, you closed the door and leaned against it. Fred and George’s footsteps faded with each passing second. You drew a deep breath. After the initial onslaught of visitors, being alone felt splendid. 

You lit a candle and began drawing a bath when you returned to the bathroom. Stripped away were the comforts of Dobby’s aid and you were left alone to your devices. You were off to a good start and you were going to prove you could manage just fine. You submerged yourself in the hot water to wash the grime and the weight of workweek away. 

When you were clean and dry, you slipped into a silk nightgown, the one with thin straps that hung over your shoulders and whose hem just covered your thighs. It was by far the comfiest because of how little material there was. You walked into the kitchen to fetch yourself a glass of water but not without admiring your space shrouded in moonlight first. The only thing keeping you from touching a blanket of stars were your windows. The flowers you’d received from the move-in were still in full bloom, the steel from George’s espresso machine gleamed, and your couch was plush and cozy. 

It was lovely and inviting. You didn’t regret moving out at all, no matter how difficult the circumstances were initially.

“So this is what freedom feels like,” you hummed. You loved the feeling of wearing and doing anything you wanted—you were the master of the house. 

You then ambled back to your bedroom. You set the glass down and walked over to the window to appreciate another view of the city—something you didn’t get back at home. Your eyes found the dome structure of King’s Cross station immediately. Hues of yellow and magenta surrounded the space to guide passengers and it stuck out like a sore thumb in the silence of the night.

You shut your curtains and crawled into bed.  You wondered how Charlie was doing, if his train was timely and if the ride was comfortable. As you fell asleep, you hoped the answer was ‘yes, it was.’

You didn’t know what time it was when a light roused you. Your mind was still clouded with sleep and you had just the slightest bit of consciousness. A weak beam of light seeped out from below the bathroom door. You heard the running of the tap and the bristling of a toothbrush on teeth. 

When the bathroom light flickered off, a new one flickered on. This one was more faint, further from you. 

“Wow.” 

That was all you heard before the second light shut off. You were far too deep in sleep to inquire about what you were seeing or hearing. Probably ghosts of Charlie floating about, taunting you and luring you into wicked, unthinkable dreams. 

When you fully roused in the morning, you rubbed your eyes. The feeling of complete rest tingled pleasantly in your body. You walked over to the window where blackout curtains shielded you from the sunlight. You swung them open and let the light filter in, illuminating every crevice of your new bedroom. You walked into your washroom to brush your teeth, wash your face, and to tame your hair. 

Remembering that George had generously gifted you an espresso machine, you hurried out of your room to get a sip of that sweet substance. 

The first thing you saw when you exited your bedroom was a black topcoat hanging from the rack. Below it, mounted by the wall, was a pair of slightly scuffed leather boots. Fred and George left with all their belongings, so the coat and shoes couldn’t have been theirs. Your heart skipped a beat and fear consumed your body: there was an intruder in the house. 

The most rational thing to do would be to bolt out the front door and to call security for help and enlist someone more qualified to dispose of the intruder. But pride got the best of you, and you decided you weren’t a damsel in distress who needed saving anymore. It could’ve been Fred or George coming back to play an elaborate prank on you. And when you fell for it, they’d never let you live it down. And the concierge would never let in an unauthorized visitor, so yes, obviously, there was nothing to worry about. 

The only issue was that your wand was in the living room, shredding any chance of self -defence. Instead, you grabbed a metal shoe horn and tiptoed quietly down the hall to the kitchen where you could hear sounds of someone being there: a barstool squeaking, the kettle steaming, and some humming. The bass notes of a man’s voice wasn’t clicking in your memory. Now, you were starting to doubt it was Fred or George.

It was too late to retreat. “Get back!” you yelled with ferocity. You hated to admit, but you’d squeezed your eyes shut so you were waving a shoe horn aimlessly. How you passed Defence Against the Dark Arts was a mystery indeed.

When you heard nothing, and felt no signs of you being murdered, you opened your eyes.

This was no thief or intruder.

It was Charlie.

He playfully threw up both his arms in surrender, teabag in one hand, and pretended to fall backwards, tailbone digging into the kitchen counter. 

You set down your weapon. “What are you doing here?”

He flicked the tag off his tea bag with his thumb, then let out a low whistle. “I think the question you mean to ask is, what are you wearing?”

Charlie’s question echoed in your head as embarrassment stirred up inside you. What were you wearing, exactly?

You looked down for the answer: a thin-strapped silk dress that barely covered your shoulders and thighs. Well, all that while brandishing your favourite accessory: the shoe horn.

“Is that how you win your duels? By distracting your opponent?” he asked. 

You were so infatuated and caught up with the idea of independence that you had forgotten that Charlie had a key and that he was staying over. Combined with the adrenaline of thinking that there was someone in the house, you might as well have had amnesia. His presence did corroborate with the lights and voices you heard last night. Oh shit, come to think of it, he did warn you he was coming over before he departed on Wednesday, but in the mess of things like his and Bill’s untimely appearance and Alicia’s fervent teasing, you’d forgotten.

“This is just what I sleep in!” You were in a right state. Panicked, you tried to make fun of him. Maybe he would lose some of that unbreakable composure. “Don’t you sleep in the same thing? If the rumours are true, that is.”

Charlie chuckled lowly, his laughter rising in volume. “Are you seriously asking me what I sleep in?” he responded. “(Y/N), your mind is a literal cesspool.”

You didn’t want to give off the impression of being embarrassed, so you walked on into the kitchen like nothing happened. “I think I know the answer, based on your deflection,” you mumbled as you settled in the spot beside him. “You can sleep in whatever you like, Charlie, I won’t judge you.”

“I was going to say I often wear much less,” he added in a husky half-whisper by your earlobe.

Oh.

You hand squeezed the metal handle of the espresso portafilter. The coffee wasn’t going to be the only thing steaming in here. You didn’t dare turn your head. You could imagine the handsome smirk at the things he was making you think: Charlie and his naked torso covered in a sheen of sweat, languidly moving under the covers, each hard ridge of muscle skimming the sheets… “Well, that’s just dandy for you, isn’t it?”

“Do I detect a trace of sarcasm?” Charlie pouted, looking down at you. He gave you a nudge. “Need I remind you that you asked me first?”

You kept your mouth shut and fiddled with the top of the espresso grinder instead. It didn’t come off easily, so you tried to pry it off with your nail. When it felt like the grinder was going to take off your nail instead, you gave up.

“Have you made coffee before?” Charlie questioned. His larger hand enveloped the top and twisted it off with ease. 

You seethed silently. 

Charlie continued, unbothered by your lack of response: “I was thinking we could grab breakfast first and discuss how to use the espresso machine after.”

Charlie’s offer was sounding pretty scrumptious. You needed a jolt of caffeine stat if you were going to make it through the rest of the day. 

“Fine,” you conceded quickly, shutting the machine off. “Lead the way.”

“Are you going to get changed first?” Charlie snickered. “It’s a bit nippy for that little number, isn’t it?”

You grabbed the shoehorn from the island. “If you aren’t careful, this shoehorn will meet your head.”

His mouth twisted in a way that made your heart flutter. “Whoa, you’re pretty intimidating for someone so small.”

Beautiful, crooked words.

“I’m really not just saying it for show,” you warned. 

Charlie stepped back, face full of feigned fear. “I’ll believe it.”

You huffed and turned around.

“When I see it,” he added quickly.

You nearly stomped back to your room to change.

“So, if I am staying over Friday night, I’d like to keep some eggs in the fridge and bread in the pantry, at the very least. I get pretty peckish right after I wake up.”

Charlie was explaining his terms and conditions to you on the way back from the cafe where you enjoyed a breakfast sandwich and a coffee. You were grateful you kept your attire simple—a white shirt over some flowy culottes and a trench coat—because you would’ve felt ridiculous setting foot into a homey family establishment dressed otherwise. Charlie even had a long chat with the owners, a married couple in their late sixties who’d insisted on your meal being on the house. 

After breakfast, you’d forgiven him for his teasing and stopped by the grocers to pick up some pantry staples. Charlie cradled a paper bag in one arm and looped a bag of tangerines around the other. Despite all this grocery juggling, he held the door for you as you made your way to the lift and continued to talk about his favourite topic: breakfast.

“Of course you can,” you replied.

“I appreciate you being alright with it. After all, there’s a decent amount of space in your fridge. Do you even cook?”

You reddened. “I only moved in two days ago. I haven’t had the time to—”

“Hm.” He cocked his head as the lift ascended. “Not much of an excuse given the rest of the space looks so furnished.”

“Fred and George came over for dinner last night with takeaway,” you retorted.

Charlie made a strangled noise. “I wasn’t invited?”

“You were at Hogwarts,” you reminded him.

He laughed. “It’s the thought that counts. The notion of me being invited. I thought you Malfoys were all about keeping up appearances.”

“You seem to know very little, Charlie,” you said as you opened the door, “about Malfoys.”

“You’re killing me today, (Y/N),” he said. He set his paper bag down and began organising his purchases on the island. “I didn’t take you to be so mean.”

You froze midway through taking off your trench coat. “I am not mean.”

He placed a carton of eggs in the icebox. “So, so, mean.”

You opened your mouth to say something but your words caught in your throat. You decided not to entangle yourself in the web that was Charlie’s teasing though it felt nice that he was so concentrated on you, and that he kept the conversation going. You sauntered over to the bookshelf instead and plucked out one of Madame Millicent’s books. You turned to the page you’d bookmarked, knee-deep in learning how to knead the most buttery and flaky pie crust. It would’ve been a really mundane topic, but this Millicent woman used such vivid descriptors that you could practically taste the decadence in your mouth. 

“What’s this?” Charlie asked, walking towards the sectional.

“Something I’m reading for a book club.” Oh, shit. You really had to get going on those Madame Millicent books. The date for the afternoon tea was fast approaching and each second brought you closer to a due date of less than a week. 

“Hm.” Charlie plucked a book out from beside the empty space, flipped to a random page, and began reading aloud. “Create a vacuum around his appendage. Use your tongue to stroke the tip of him. This is his most sensitive region. Make sure to gently lap any juices. Remember to engage in eye contact with him. Your eyes will be his undoing.” Charlie looked up. “Did you know that, (Y/N)? You may be on your knees or writhing under him, but you are the temptress with control, he is your subordinate.

You blanked out and blinked at Charlie. “What?”

“Is this what you’re discussing at your book club?” Charlie asked, handing you the book. His fingers touched the header. “Oral sex in flowery prose?”

You frowned. “You made that up.”

“I didn’t, but I’m flattered you think I write so well.”

You grabbed the book from him and looked to where he had been narrating from. To your horror, these were the exact words he’d read, except the addition of your name when he tried to get your attention. “I didn’t know it was about… this. It was supposed to be about female empowerment.” You looked at the book you were initially reading, confusion splayed all over your face. “Or at least her first title was?”

You skimmed your fingers over the textured spine where ‘Madame Millicent: Pleasing the Patriarchy’ was deeply embroidered. Well, this radiated a completely different persona than ‘Madame Millicent: Maître de la Maison.”

“Of course you didn’t, Miss Malfoy,” Charlie said with a snicker. “Wait until your father hears about what you’re reading now that you live all alone.”

You scoffed. “Actually, my mother was the one who recommended it.”

Charlie cleared his throat very audibly. “I’m sorry, what?”

You nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact with him.

Charlie shook his head. “Not the fair maiden, Narcissa Malfoy. She would never muddle her name with such sacrilegious affairs.” He stopped when a new train of thought struck him. “But that’d give our mothers a mutual topic to talk about, if they ever met.”

You eyed him curiously. Was he implying the saintly Molly Weasley indulged in erotica? Feeling awkward, you continued to talk about the book club.

“Well, Charlie,” you started, about to shatter his misconceptions about your mother.  “My mother is part of the book club that Madame Millicent is speaking at next week. She’s invited me as well, hence why I’m reading her titles. And you’ll find that lonely housewives adore books like these.”

“Seriously?” Charlie’s eyes lit up delightfully. “You get to meet the temptress in person?” he asked excitedly. “Can I come, too?”

“Why would you want to do that?” You snapped your book shut. “There won’t be a single man there.”

“Why, (Y/N), because I’m extremely well-read. And I care deeply for female empowerment, especially in the brazen manner Madame Millicent portrays it.”

You cocked your head and narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “Really?” You shook the book he was holding. “Or just this title in particular?”

He eyed you curiously, a smirk spreading across his face. “I’ll have all these titles finished by next week.”

“You shouldn’t overestimate your ability to read through all this, it’s quite a bit.”

“Oh, I know my limits,” Charlie affirmed. “I’ll see you at this afternoon tea.”

“You really read through it all?” you asked Charlie, voice thick with doubt, as you walked on the cobblestone entrance. 

Tea was to be hosted this afternoon at a venue your mother had written to you about. It was such a lovely place, green and whimsical, and its dreamy appearance befit its claim as a popular wedding destination. Evergreen shrubs, touched with the slightest amount of morning dew and rain, lined the path you and Charlie were taking. It had rained earlier this morning when the both of you were getting dressed in your apartment. 

“(Y/N),” Charlie started. “We read all day yesterday. All day. You didn’t even let me take a washroom break.”

That was true. He’d gotten back from Hogwarts late Friday evening, slipped into his room, and woke up before you to work the espresso machine for the two of you. Then, you got right to it. You had both claimed the opposite ends of the sectional and read through the rest of the titles in preparation for today. Charlie seemed content to spend his Saturday with you, and you were elated when he nestled into the couch and made no plans to leave. He did head back late Saturday evening to the Burrow, but came back this morning to dress for the event. 

You had Charlie for a full weekend, and you couldn’t suppress a smile at the thought of it.

“I had to oversee you reading the other two titles,” you teased. “Seeing you were so affixed on Pleasing on Patriarch.”

”It’s what I know best. I’m sure Millicent and I will have colourful discussions on it.”

You were received by a dapper little house elf in a bowtie at the front door who guided you through the hallway inside the mansion, then helped you down the back down some stone steps, before leading you into the gardens. It didn’t seem sensible or at all seasonable for afternoon tea to be hosted outside this time of year, but a warming spell that arced across the pavilion kept the women at the round table warm. The trees were blazing with hues of red and orange, nearly ready to shrivel and die as soon as the temperature dipped any further. At least they provided some colour in contrast to the dull, grey skies. 

“How are you feeling? Cold?” Charlie asked. He fiddled with the collar of your tweed cardigan that you’d layered over a long dress.

You perked quickly at his concern for you and the brush of his finger near your neck. His touch was the only thing that was shiver-inducing. “I feel fine. What about you?”

”I’m at the perfect temperature,” he said as he adjusted his suit. He was wearing an outfit a touch toned down from when you had dinner with your parents. While you liked his bedhead and the mess of curls that he usually sported, you had to admit that he was unusually beautiful when he tamed his hair. It drew attention to the sharp juts of his jaw and cheekbones that were usually hidden.

The two of you continued down the steps and the further you got, the more the stunning set up came into view. A round table was constructed in the centre of the gardens. A tablecloth decorated in rich autumn hues—deep red and gold—draped over it. The centrepiece which consisted of candles, pumpkins, and a leafy wreath snaked around the middle.

“Charlie!”

You both looked up.

This voice did not belong to your mother. It didn’t belong to anyone you were particularly familiar with.

But when a grey-haired woman stood up, you could pinpoint exactly who’d called.

“Mrs. Cromwell!” Charlie responded first.

“Cecile!” she yelled in cheery correction, still a ways away from the base of the steps. She lifted herself from the chair, gloved hands by her side to help with her balance, and ambled as quickly as her old age would take her to where you and Charlie were standing. Charlie, not wanting an elderly lady to walk unsteadily to him, ran over and you followed. Cecile gracefully extended her arm as if pulling him over. Time had softened her bones and compressed some cartilage, and she seemed very, very small next to Charlie. “Remember me?”

“How could I forget?” Charlie chuckled, placing a kiss on the back of her hand. Cecile giggled at his show of chivalry. 

As the twosome continued their conversation, you caught your mother beckoning you over with a glance. You left Charlie and Cecile and shuffled over.

“Why did you bring him?” Narcissa whispered, pulling you in by the arm. “I thought I made the invitation exclusive to you.”

“I informed you in a letter, mother,” you rebutted. 

“And I responded saying there were no extra seats at this function. It is extremely exclusive, (Y/N).” Narcissa’s tone was sharp and stern. “Charlie absolutely cannot be accommodated.”

“Okay,” you said. “Then I’ll leave.”

”You are not leaving,” Narcissa insisted in a harsh whisper. “Madame Millicent is expecting you.”

You looked back up to where Mrs. Cromwell was leading Charlie back to the round table, a funny sight indeed seeing that Charlie had no issues ambulating, but Mrs. Cromwell was roleplaying a nurse supporting an elderly patient at St Mungos.

“Mrs. Cromwell certainly seems to want him here,” you muttered through your teeth. “She’d happily let him take her place.”

Narcissa let out a long, hopeless sigh, and her hands lifted to rub at her temples. “I kindly ask you to ask him to leave.”

”But—”

“Good afternoon, ladies,” a voice called out from the back of the house. Twelve heads spun around to the lady standing at the top of the steps. She was short, slightly stocky in nature, and cloaked in beautiful deep purple robes. Her greying hair was pulled back into a bun on the top of her head. Her features were foxy and homely, and if you didn’t have the context that you did as to who she was, you’d never have guessed she was Madame Millicent. 

Her house elf scrambled in front of her. “Ladies,”—he glanced at Charlie—“and gentleman, may I present to you, Madame Millicent?”

Everyone at the table stood up as Millicent proceeded down the same steps you and Charlie had just taken.  

“Who do we have here?” Millicent called out, fixated on Charlie whose arm now permanently belonged to Mrs. Cromwell.

”Charlie Weasley, madame.”

”Weasley?” she questioned with a quirk of a well-groomed eyebrow. “Now, where have I heard that before?”

Your breath caught.

Narcissa gave you a pointed look and shook her head slowly. If Madame Millicent hated the Weasleys a fraction of the amount your parents did, you’d truly come to regret inviting Charlie.

”Now I know why that sounds so familiar!” Millicent exclaimed suddenly, clapping her hands together with glee. “Molly Weasley. Is that your mother?”

Charlie nodded. “Yes.”

”Such a small world we live in, don’t we?” Millicent continued. “She came to my last book signing and we had a chat about my recipes that lasted over an hour. Such a lovely woman, so lovely. I reckon I’ll be looking to her for advice on homemaking for my next book. A powerful woman, too, raised seven kids, if I remember correctly, and put them all through school.” She looked up Charlie up and down. “She forgot to mention how handsome her son was.” 

“Handsome? Wait until you see my older brother,” Charlie said, brushing off a compliment for the first time you’d witnessed.

Charlie’s comment certainly piqued Mrs. Cromwell’s interest. She looked up at him with an inquisitive look while Millicent did a quick assessment of the available seats and frowned.

“Well, that just won’t do,” Millicent tutted. “Gibbly, fetch me another seat for Mr. Weasley. He can be seated right next by me.”

Gibbly, Millicent’s house elf, dashed back inside the house to retrieve a chair. You and Narcissa just looked on with astounded expressions (like mother, like daughter). Neither of you expected Millicent would be so taken by Charlie. 

“You could’ve given me that honour, Millie,” Mrs. Cromwell huffed with a displeased expression. “I wouldn’t mind sitting next to him.” When Millicent just smiled, you relaxed. It must’ve been an old joke between friends, you reckoned. 

After Charlie was seated, tea had made its rounds. You stirred your earl grey with trepidation, knowing your mother was looking on, ensuring you were following good tea etiquette. You’d stirred for close to two minutes, preoccupied with trying to catch a glimpse of Charlie. You were seated left of Narcissa, so six seats from Charlie which was six seats too far and at a very odd angle. 

“I want to get to know the unfamiliar faces in this room. Would you mind introducing yourself, love?” Millicent was staring at you.

You set your spoon down. “I’m (Y/N) Malfoy,” you said. “I’m Narcissa’s daughter. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

“Of course, I should’ve known,” Millicent said with a smile. “I can see your mother in you, but you take after your father so well.” 

You almost retched. 

Then, she turned to Charlie. “And what brings you here today, Charlie? I don’t recall seeing your name on the guest list.”

“Actually, (Y/N) was the reason I came today.”

Millicent leaned in. “Really?”

“Her interest in your writing rubbed off on me,” Charlie explained. “I was thrilled to have the opportunity to meet you in person. Take it as you will, but I was quite literally on my knees to be here today.”

You squinted. Was that… a patch of red spreading on Millicent’s cheeks?

“Well,” Millicent chirped happily. “Let’s start our discussions then.”

The first part of the discussion focussed on her first two titles, Maître de La Maison and Tips for the Domesticated Witch. Women around the table praised her recipes and how the results were always a hit with all their guests at functions they hosted. You nibbled quietly at a cucumber sandwich as the conversation droned on, having nothing of substance to offer. Charlie, on the other hand, seemed very interested, and even asked questions: “Millicent, precisely, how important is the bain-marie method for a perfect cheesecake?”

“Now,” Millicent said suddenly with a clap. “Let’s move on to what I know you ladies are really here for.”

A wave of giggles chorused through the pavilion. You looked to your mother for solidarity, but she remained tight-lipped and looked displeased. Well, there was only one last book left to discuss…

“I wish I could’ve attended an earlier session, but I was touring Northern Europe for the release of Pleasing the Patriarchy all summer. I’m delighted to be back in England to discuss my latest bestseller with you.”

“And I wish Chuck was still here to witness all my learnings through that book,” Mrs. Cromwell added in a serious tone. “You couldn’t have finished that book any earlier, Millie?” Her quip earned a round of subdued laughs. 

“Well, as I say to every woman, it’s never too late,” Millicent assured. “I reckon a steady dose of intercourse will keep all of us healthy and young on all accounts.”

”Trust me, I know,” Mrs. Cromwell said. “But I find men my age are so selfish and well-worn in their ways. I’m from a cursed generation where a woman’s pleasure was always secondary to her husband’s.”

“And it’s so awful,” Millicent agreed. “But you’re a crafty woman, Cecile. You must know a way around such a dated practice.”

Mrs. Cromwell made a face like the answer was obvious. “Of course, I only entertain the younger men now.”

An unabashed chorus of laughter erupted from the table this time. Mrs. Cromwell sent a wrinkled wink at Charlie, who smiled back. 

“Speaking of younger men,” Madame Millicent changed the topic and looked to Charlie, “It’s fate that we have one of those here today. What do you think of the advice laid out in my latest release?”

“You’re still talking about Pleasing the Patriarchy, correct?” Charlie repeated.

“Yes.” Millicent nodded. “I’ve consulted a fair share of men as preliminary research, but I’m curious as to what you think of it, the feasibility and authenticity of the tips, that is, if you could comment on both.”

“Well,” Charlie started, leaning back in his seat, “I reckon your advice is fabulous, very feasible. You’ve really captured the steps precisely. Put it in better words than I ever could.”

“Hm.” Millicent seemed mighty proud of herself. “And have you been able to integrate these tips in the bedroom?”

“Ah,” Charlie stalled, his breath catching in his throat in another historical first. What happened to the ever-so-confident Charlie Weasley you’ve come to know? He cast you a quick glance. You imagined his hesitation was due to the fact that your mother was right beside you, and he was being lightly coerced to talk about his sex life despite keeping things as vague as possible until this point. The only people in the room who knew about you and Charlie were your mother and Mrs. Cromwell; you weren’t certain Millicent or the twelve others had connected the dots.  

If Narcissa weren’t here, he might’ve been more adventurous in his answer. He shifted his attention back to Millicent in a flash; the untrained eye wouldn’t have sensed any hesitation. “Of course. I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity for self-improvement.”

“How considerate of you,” Mrs. Cromwell added with a dreamy, longing sigh. 

“Very much so,” solidified Millicent.

“Millicent, what do we do if our husbands are so consumed in their work at the Ministry that they won’t even pay us the time of day when they get home?” a younger woman in her thirties, draped in a dark teal shawl, piped up. Her seat-mate nodded in agreement. “I don’t even have the opportunity to practise anything I read. I’m so terribly frustrated, Millicent.”

“Sadly, that’s not out of the ordinary,” Millicent consoled, sympathy written on her face. “Has he always been so detached, Anna?”

“Ever since we’ve started living together, it’s as if the passion has faded.”

Millicent nodded. “Through my research, there are a number of things that decimate passion in the bedroom: children, work, and moving in together. When you move in together, you sacrifice the feelings of excitement and mystery that fuelled the passion and intimacy at the beginning of your relationship. We tend to absorb our roles as homemaker or a mother and less of a sexual partner.”

Anna sighed.

“Charlie, do you live alone?” Millicent queried. 

“I live with (Y/N),” Charlie answered without missing a beat. “Most days, anyways.”

Millicent’s mouth rounded. Mrs. Cromwell leaned in suspiciously at this revelation. Likely, her head was whirring around the fact that you spent time with Charlie in the bedroom. 

“And if you’re comfortable sharing,” Millicent asked in such a delicate but firm manner that you know she’d definitely prodded like this before, “what fluctuations in your physical relationship have you experienced since moving in?”

“I reckon everything’s stayed the same,” Charlie mused, his eyes brooding in deep thought, “or honestly, at an increased frequency.”

Both you and your mother immediately turned as red as the sugar-glazed strawberries on the tart on the serving tray. Your mother coughed, the insinuation that Charlie had punched into the conversation—that you and him had sex—interfering with her ability to masticate. You buried your head down to evade curious glances and looked down at the table cloth. Wow, has crocheting always yielded such beautiful results?

Millicent leaned her face into the palms of her hand. “Why do you think that is?”

“Well, as you said, we shouldn’t forget our roles as partners. And with a partner so beautiful, it’s not hard.”

You were mortified. You thought about asking Gibbly to help you dig a hole into the ground so you could block out all the chatter about your fictitious sex life.

“Well, my love,” Millicent redirected her attention to Anna, “here’s what I think you can do to bring back the spark in the bedroom….”

An hour later, afternoon tea was nearing an end. Gibbly cleared out the trays and teacups as you followed the other woman on the trail back into the manor. Charlie stood back with Mrs. Cromwell by a gate. This old woman and her spindly claws just weren’t going to let go of him! Your eyes followed his body as he leaned down, almost on his knees to listen to what she was whispering to his ear, a corner of his mouth pulled up in handsome amusement. 

‘She’s probably inviting him to her bed!’ you thought. 

“(Y/N),” Narcissa called, gently pulling at your arm. “Let’s go somewhere private to have a chat.”

“Sure,” you responded, walking with your mother northward but eyes still on Charlie southward. 

As you walked, you felt a sharp tug on your heart when Anna skipped over, teal dress grazing the grass, to join in on Charlie and Mrs. Cromwell’s conversation. Charlie’s smile was as friendly as ever as he chatted with a married woman who’d loudly and publicly announced she was lonely—practically a mating call if you’d ever heard one. He couldn’t be so deaf or stupid to ignore that, could he? 

You felt forgotten even though Charlie made such a grand display of you being his partner.

You almost tripped over a divot in the ground, but you couldn’t stop staring at what was unfolding behind you. It reminded you of his chummy conversation with Mallory at the bar, him never brushing off Mrs. Cromwell’s forward advances, Millicent praising his looks and asking him invasive questions, and now Anna giggling at him. If he could be so forthcoming with all these random women in front of you, how many of them was he charming behind your back? All while crawling his way to sharing the same apartment as you?

But it didn’t matter, did it? Your chest felt heavy at the realization that he wasn’t doing anything immoral or wrong. If you were together, you’d be well within your rights to be suspicious. Factually, you were the one who tangled him in this ruse, and the only credit you could give yourself was that it got a little more complicated and spindly than you could handle. So, you forced yourself to swallow the apprehension about the women in Charlie’s life the best you could. 

Narcissa led you over to a more secluded part of the garden where only the trees could hear your conversation. And you were going to be glad for it. 

“Is it true?” Narcissa prodded.

“What’s true?”

“What Charlie said?”

“He said a lot of things,” you reminded her. “But yes, mother, the bain-marie method will yield a better-tasting cheesecake.” 

“No,”—Narcissa shook her head—“about your sexual activity.”

“Mother!” you exclaimed in a whisper. You leaned out to make sure Charlie hadn’t come any closer. “I’d prefer if we discussed it later, or never at all, especially as it was already dissected in front of everyone.”

“I understand,” she said. “It’s a difficult topic, but I regret not sitting you down when you were younger, I truly do, (Y/N). It was a failure on my part. I had your father talk to Draco about these matters, but I need to make sure you’re taking care of your reproductive health before something unwanted happens.

“Of course I am!” you promised. “You needn’t worry about it.” Because we aren’t in a relationship. We aren’t having sex.

You wanted out of here. This conversation and the charades that followed didn’t feel exciting anymore. It now felt empty and wrong. It was a chore, trying to keep in line with what Charlie had announced, and you were certain he didn’t put a single care behind his words to you. 

“Well, it would give me peace of mind if you made an appointment with our Healer. There are many options for contraception nowadays, much more than when I was a young witch.”

“Contra—”

“It doesn’t have to be at the first appointment, but Healer Tousignant will go over your options and you should take some time to decide what works best for you. I promise, she is excellent at what she does. And I won’t ask anything of it afterwards.”

You skimmed through all the options in your head. If you refused Narcissa’s offer, you’d be subject to more questions about your sexual health, and who knows what inopportune place she’d choose to talk about it next? In front of your cousins during Christmas in Switzerland? In the middle of Diagon Alley? At dinner where Draco and your father would be present?

If you just accepted the appointment, you could conceal the fact you weren’t in Charlie’s bed (despite a naughty crevice of your brain that controlled your dreams hoping you were). 

A dull pain interlaced with the beat of your heart at the possibility of that person not being you. Reality told you it wasn’t going to be. It could be Mallory, Mrs. Cromwell, Millicent, Anna— 

“Fine,” you agreed with a forced smile. “Tell me when, and I’ll be there.”

>> NEXT CHAPTER

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what @earth-to-lottie @kissingyourgrl @sihtricswife @adalia-jaycee @anuttellaa @weasley-clan (Let me know if I missed you, or if you want to be added!)

[littleskeletonprincessss]

Here, have this

------------------------------------------------------

"God, you're so annoying, y/n! You don't have any idea what you're fucking talking about!" Schlatt yelled, walking away from you and into the kitchen.

"Excuse me, Mr. I'm-too-busy-to-spend-even-a-second-with-my-girlfriend! It's not my fault you've taken on so much and stretched yourself so thin! You did this to yourself!"

It was the 5th night in a row where Schlatt had to call and tell you he 'had to work late' and 'sorry hon, rain check for dinner tonight'.

"Jesus Christ I am so tired of you nagging me all the time! You're always around, just leave me the fuck alone for once!"

"If that's how you feel then maybe we shouldn't even be together!"

"There's a bright idea. Nice to know you can have those every once in a while."

"Fuck you, Schlatt! We're done." You yelled, before grabbing your purse and walking out of his house.

Walking into your apartment, you let your purse drop to the floor and flopped onto your couch, leaning your head back, and letting out a loud sigh, releasing all the pent up anger you'd harbored on your angry drive home.

It unfortunately wasn't uncommon for you and Schlatt to get into arguments. They'd usually result in one of you storming out of the house, and either returning later that night to exchange apologies and end with rough, angy make up sex or returning the next day and deciding it'd be best for both of you if you took a break for a while.

This was the fourth time it'd happened, and you were tired of it. You loved Schlatt, you really did. But God was it exhausting to break up and get back together all the time. You knew that this wasn't what it was supposed to be like.

Deciding to call Schlatt in the morning you turned on your TV for the sole purpose of serving as background noise for you to numbly fall asleep to, preparing yourself for what would come in the morning.

-------

When you woke up, you briefly looked around your apartment before remembering the previous night's fight. You'd grown used to waking up in Schlatt's warm arms, his face buried in your neck from behind, so it was almost a strange feeling to be cold and alone.

Looking at the clock it read 10:30. Schlatt would probably be awake, most likely editing again. You pressed the call button on his contact half expecting him not to answer.

"Hey."

"I think we need to talk."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Coffee?"

"Yeah. I can be there in 20."

"See you then."

You left only a few minutes later after running your fingers through your hair and brushing your teeth, making yourself look somewhat presentable, and almost subconsciously walked to the coffee shop down the street, a place that had quickly become of favorite of yours and Schlatt's.

Looking around and not seeing him yet you at a table by the door, watching it and gently scratching your arms as a distraction from the way you were feeling.

Schlatt walked in and after briefly meeting your eyes sat silently across from you. It was obvious how little either of you wanted to be there right now, and it looked like neither of you wanted to speak first.

"Schlatt, we can't keep doing this."

Taking a deep breath, Schlatt muttered a defeated "I know."

"I think we need to break up. For good this time."

He sat silent for a long pause, staring at the fingers he was tapping on table.

"Whatever." he finally said, quickly standing up and leaving the coffee shop without another word or glance your way.

You sat for a bit, letting what had happened sink in. That was it. Wiping away the trapped tears that were making your eyes burn and throat hurt you left as well, walking the opposite way that Schlatt had, to your apartment, heartbroken and alone.

----------

It'd been a week. There were no texts, no calls, nothing exchanged between either of you. Schlatt hadn't posted anything, which surprised you. He had been trying to be more consistent with it. You posted a memory on Instagram and he wasn't among the notifications of likes like he normally would be.

This was foreign. You and Schlatt had started as friends before you'd gotten together the first time. You'd never gone longer than a couple days without any sort of contact, and that was only because he'd had to go back home and had forgotten his phone charger.

Your kitchen counters were littered with pizza boxes, food wrappers, bottles, you hadn't been bothered to cook anything or clean anything up. You could stand for a shower, shown evident by the greasy knot on top of your head and the thin layer of grime that had settled on your skin. Snotty and tear soaked tissues blanketed your living room floor. You were sinking and there was no one that could pull you up.

"I'm so pathetic" you whispered to yourself, looking at your smelly clothes and dirty surroundings. "I can't just sit here anymore." you resolved, standing up before moving to the bathroom to shower and start putting your life back in order.

------------

A few hours later you were tying the last garbage bag, your apartment, and you, looking leagues better than they had earlier..

A knock on your door pulled your attention away from cleaning. You hadn't ordered anything and your neighbors weren't usually the kind to stop by for anything.

Opening the door you were surprised by what you saw.

"Schlatt?"

There he stood, nearly filling your door frame with his large frame. He was unshaven, and his outfit looked about how yours had this morning, wrinkly and disheveled. But what surprised you was that he was crying. In all the time you'd known him, as a friend or a boyfriend, you'd never seen Schlatt cry.

But here he was, on your door step, big brown eyes watery with unshed tears, his nose running and red.

"Y/n" he choked out, voice rough from a combination of unuse and sobs.

Before you could say or do anything, Schlatt reached out and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug and hiding his face in your neck.

"I'm so so sorry for how I was treating you recently. You were right, I'd been spending too much time away from you. But I'm gonna get better." He blubbered.

"Schlatt--" you started, before he cut you off.

"I am. I'm going to be so much better for you. I know I don't deserve you, Y/n, I know you deserve someone who's so much better than me, but I'm gonna be better for you. I love you so much, angel. I know, we've had our issues, and i've said things in the past, but none of it is true. You're it. You're it for me. I need you in my life, Y/n. This last week has been hell without you. God I can't even begin to explain how I felt in the coffee shop when you said we were done for good. My whole world came tumbling down. It hurt so, so much. And I know it hurt you too and i'm sorry that I pushed you to do that. Please, give me one more chance. Please."

He looked into your eyes after that speech, trying to find your response before you said it.

Letting out a small sigh you pulled him down into another hug, clearing your throat from the new wash of tears that came over you.

"I love you, Schlatt."

You could feel Schlatt let out a breath you knew he'd been holding before he held you even tighter than before, if it was possible.

"I love you. So much."

[oh-no-its-dragons]

Baby Names

And then @suebswrites also prompted me for "naming children after the war" which actually dovetailed nicely with a conversation @sarcasticmothwrites and I had the other day. 600 words of Riorgail fluff.

"Twins, Violence? You never cease to amaze me."

"You say that like I did it all by myself," she laughed. "Okay so... names."

"Do we need to have this conversation now? I expect we have some time."

"And I expect *everyone* will have their own opinions so we might want to get ahead of them."

Xaden laughed. "And brilliant too, of course. Very well. I have one name in mind immediately. Did Andarna tell you which sorts of names we should be picking?"

"She's pretty sure they're a boy and a girl. And I have one name in mind too, but... well."

"It's probably the same one, is that what you're thinking? I don't have to read your mind to guess that one. Liam."

"Yes, that's the easy one. I've got no idea what to name a girl, though."

"What would sound good with Liam?"

"Not Lilith," Violet shuddered. "That'd be too complicated even if she'd just been my mother."

"I appreciate you taking that out of my hands," Xaden nodded. "Was that the one you're worried about other people having opinions about?"

"One of them. But if Mira thinks a child should be named after Mom, she can have one of her own. Besides, if I was naming someone in honor of a parent, it'd be my father."

"Maybe the next one," Xaden kissed the top of her head.

She laughed. "Don't get ahead of yourself, I'm not sure how well my body's going to handle *one* pregnancy, let alone more than that."

Xaden stilled. "Are you..."

"Oh, I want this. It'll hurt, but I did the math and I think the calculus works out that it'll be worth it in the end."

"So we're back to names," he changed the subject. He'd gotten used to the way Violet talked about her pain, but still struggled with accepting that it was a problem he couldn't solve for her. "Is there anyone else...?"

They both paused, thinking about those they'd lost in the war. A few suggestions tossed back and forth, but there weren't any clear answers like Liam had been, and Violet felt oddly superstitious about naming one after someone living when the other was named in honor of someone dead.

"Maybe we need to think about an entirely different angle. You're named for a flower, what about something like Lily? That would sound good with Liam," Xaden suggested.

"No flowers," Violet grumbled. "I got enough of that before I entered the Quadrant, people assuming I liked the flower as if I'd names myself after it. It's one thing when it comes from someone who means it, but too many people don't."

"No flowers," Xaden liked the flustered anger in her eyes about it, though, and he kissed her again. "Maybe this can wait a few days, at least. We don't have to tell anyone until your ready. The right name will come to us."

Violet leaned into him as his hands reached down to cup her ass, then shook her head. "No good. I'm still thinking about it."

Xaden managed to make a sound half way between a groan and a laugh.

"Does your family have any naming traditions," she prompted. "I know your mom is... Did you have a grandmother you were close to or anything?"

"Bodhi's mother was the only figure I really had and considering he's talking about starting his own family I wouldn't want to without asking him."

"Oh absolutely." Violet sighed. "If only there was someone who was as obvious a choice as Liam."

"I'm fairly certain the only person you spent as much time thinking about was Lyra of Morraine, and that was because you spent so long in her journal," Xaden said, and then Violet looked at him.

"Lyra and Liam?"

"You don't think it's too much, do you?"

"No, I think it's perfect."

"Excellent," Xaden agreed, picking her up to kiss her again. "Now then, is your mind clear enough to celebrate...?"

[blood-grove]

His Kid (Pup?)

dog!price + human! child reader (gender neutral pronouns)

tws; fluff , fluffy , fluff , minor injury :( , i would say language barriers but lets just say you both can understand each other. no use of y/n sumamry; prices rambles about you! eventually realizing that hes a sucker for you and your his kid now.

Gods if you didn't stop fucking running off when they took this..what'd they'd call themselves? Human a couple of weeks ago he didn't expect to have a basically oversized puppy keeping all of the unit on there toes.

We couldnt really tell if there were old for there species we guess not it took a look for them to learn boundaries especially when we first encountered them they said they were 12 years old it was clear then that 'human' years were different from ours they clearly weren't some old greying dog.

There so damn touchy, Honestly weren't they raised with any manners? Putting there hands in our faces , tugging tails , pulling off my damn hat. They learned there lesson with the random touching when they tried to..'pet' Simon, I know he didn't mean to bite them I could instantly see the flash of guilt in his eyes when he nipped them purely out of how much they had gotten him riled up they've been avoiding him now as of recent but I'm sure the human just needs time the humans skin was fragile the nip was enough to cause it to bleed a candy and bandage later they were fine. I've recently spotted them and Ghost together the human drawing mumbling and rambling on about something as Simon just watched I couldn't help but grin slightly at the sight, They had there calm moments the slow days around the base I could hear them making those weird noises that they do..'giggling?' it sounded more like a little piglet squealing when them and Soap would be running around base. Oh right them and Soap truly a pair together whether that's a good thing or not its still to be decided thought it was sure Soap was the perfect dog to help them tucker out enough for a nap, Honestly out of all of us I'm pretty sure Soap is reason for most of there scratches and bruises somethings in the earlier weeks forgetting that there not a adult dog despite being around the size of one they were easily knocked over plus easily scratched with Soaps claws accidentally grated against them.

Pretty sure I've been recently been hearing Soap filing down his nails(finally bloody fuckin' hell I was half convinced I'd have to force him to the groomers) to a manageable level which is a wine in my book no more hearing the damn bastard slip and slid on the smooth floor. The pup is great around Gaz a healthy medium between Soap and Ghost you could easily find them both laying around even with Pup laying on Gaz's stomach as he rambled on about something Gaz seemed to be alright with the petting we all eventually assumed that was how the human showed affection but of course there's still boundaries between us so they human learned to ask before petting us. I'm not to fond of petting but sometimes the human will come in my office and just sit there either watching him work or looking around the office just something about them is so..I don't even know the word they eventually one day laid against me I didn't know really what to do so I just stayed still eventually laying down letting them cuddle closer. There're pretty damn cute. Shit. I just sighed as I gently pulled them closer as I went back to finishing up the report..I hoped we'd keep em' for bit longer.

[notscarsafe]

Okay, so in honor of all the Hermits stirring things up on Twitter today, let's REALISTICALLY consider Season Ten. What do we know, what are our clues, actually???

(Speculating and overanalyzing are really fun so I'm just going to embrace my tendency to Listify Everything and spill my thoughts on Season Ten under the cut!)

First Evidence: The Words of the Hermits.

Nine Days ago Scar said in his Jellie tribute video that Season Ten was “Just around the corner”. Five days ago on the 18th, right after the Hermit meeting that probably finalized their start of the season plans, Cub posted his cryptic tweet whose incorrect capitalizations spelled out “SEASON TEN SOON”. I can't imagine either of those hermits using that phrasing if the season start was more than a month away.

What's more, Gem posted yesterday the 23 that “If hermitcraft s10 doesn’t start soon I’m gonna explode!!!” I can't imagine Gem being that impatient unless there was only a couple of weeks or maybe just one week left before filming.

Second Point to Consider: Hermit Conscientiousness.

The Hermits sre generally really kind to each other and have known when the Hermitcraft Vault Hunters challenge was going to end (Jan 31st, midnight) for months. Per Iskall, the videos of the Herald Vault will drop February 1rst and I can't imagine they'd want video competition between that content and the new season.

Clue Three: The Streaming Activities of the Hermits.

The sheer amount of time Joe has spent playing Vault Hunters lead me to believe they can't have started filming for Season 10 yet. Seriously, when Joe finally has a day without a bonus Vault Hunters stream I'm gonna get mighty suspicious. Joe has streamed more than three hours of Vault Hunters every single day for a week. There was Wednesday when he did his art stream, but I wouldn't expect that to have been a launch day because:

Fact Four: Editing turn around times are so grindy.

The traffic series always has a several day turn around for editing time (IE film Monday post Friday) and several Hermits still struggle to get them out on those days. Even if the hermits were going to ignore the Vault Hunters conflict and start filming season ten this week, tomorrow even, they'd just barely have enough time to squeeze those videos out before the Herald Vault videos. As I'm editing this post Impulse just said he's trying to finish his office reorg this week and have a tour out next week. That does not sound like 'filming this week and editing the new season opener' behavior.

If it goes as Iskall indicated on stream, the Vault Hunter hermits will film the Herald Vault and post as soon as possible on February 1st, meaning the earliest they could kick off season ten would be Friday the 2nd. Even if they film on then I can't imagine them dropping new season videos/having them edited any earlier than Monday the 5th. Furthermore:

Clue Five: A lot of Hermits are very protective of their weekends.

Pearl for example almost didn't join the Decked Out visitor day because it was a weekend. It may be that Monday the 5th would be the more likely earliest useable day for filming after Vault Hunters ended. With editing turn around, we'd guess the start date to be Friday at least.

In Conclusion:

My totally bullshit overanalyzed but still blind guess is that the Hermits will film season ten starting February 5th and will drop videos sometime between February 7th and 9th.

That being said, Cub's cypher today that may have just been trolling said season ten would be “sooner than we'd think” so they may surprise me yet.

Keep an eye out for days where no hermits stream or days where Joe does a brief “1 hour chill stream” to see when the Hermits might be suspiciously behind the scenes. I won't be mad if I'm wrong, overthinking is fun. Either way I hope you join me in hypong up the new season and the new Hermits joining the Hermit Fam. I can't wait!

(Note: this post originally reported the herald vault videos as dropping the 2nd which was an estimate from a stream, but Iskalls video today reported they'd drop the first and this post has been edited to reflect that ❤️)

[starssaroundmyscarssblog]

𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

pairing: teen!noel gallagher x fem!oc (fern gibson <3)

summary: in which noel tries not to get jealous over someone who he knows he shouldn't be worried about, and fern gets high for the first time to soothe the blow

word count: 2.92k

warnings: smoking, swearing, sexual references, mentions of past relationships with people who are now in a position of authority,

PART TWO IS HERE

noel was fucking fuming.

he tapped out the butt of his cigarette against the low pillars of the gates, grumbling and crushing it under his shoe. the bell had gone ten minutes ago, and there was still no sign of fern emerging from the brick building. noel was about to light up another and he drew a cigarette out of the packet with his teeth as his other hand reached into his jacket pocket for a lighter.

chesc and eloise emerged from around the corner, giggling behind their hands as they walked down the road to the bus stop. before they managed to cross, noel whistled out of the corner of his mouth and he beckoned the girls over when they looked up at the noise.

"have yous seen fern anywhere?"

chesc shook her head, "sorry, no. i can't remember what she had last."

he muttered again and was about to spin around on his heel to leave, thinking that waiting by her car would be a better idea. eloise pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket before he could leave, though. she adjusted her glasses onto her nose. "yeah, that's it. she's had philosophy."

"oh." noel nodded. then upon his second drag after offering it over to eloise, "ah. that does sound familiar now you say. how long d'you think she'll be?"

"anyone's guess. i'm sure they'd let you wait inside for her if you want."

he could have laughed at the notion. "nah, you're all righ'. your, er," he gestured down the road, "the bus is here if that's useful for ya."

eloise made an angry grab at his hand and pulled it closer to her mouth for one last, final drag and she exhaled slowly. "c'mon you," chesc pulled at the sleeve of her blazer, "if we don't hurry up all of the good seats'll be gone."

both girls crossed the road and chorused out "bye, noel" over their shoulders. then, just his luck as the last embers of his cigarette died out on his finger tips, fat drops of rain fell one by one from the rolling grey clouds. he dropped the butt out of mild shock and out of irritancy he hiked his shoulders up to his ears and walked through the gates.

he hadn't ever been too far into fern's school, only really up to the top of the stairs where they sometimes sat together during her lunch break in the summer term. noel pushed forwards through the open doors, sidling up to the reception desk where the receptionist was staring down rather intently at a form requesting absence during term time.

noel cleared his throat. "'ello." he said, tapping his knuckles awkwardly on the desk, "i'm looking for fern gibson. she's, er, late for her driving lesson." he hoped his lie would work.

the receptionist clicked her pen and held it from one end in her claw-like fingers, using it to push his hands away. "her last class of the day was philosophy with mr watson. however if she's not there i'm afraid i can't help you as it is technically after school hours."

"right . . . thanks?" noel remained rooted to the spot.

"will that be everything?" she asked, sighing heavily as she looked up once again from the document, expecting his to have gone.

"no, could you tell me which classroom it was? just in case she's there."

"h7, up the stairs and all the way down the corridor, take a left and then three rights. you'll see it, can't be missed."

noel's feet propelled him down the languages corridor off the main hall and away from the receptionist. he traipsed up the stairs and was beginning to feel increasingly uncomfortable in the environment. it was all polished wooden floors and high ceilings, long windows with even longer curtains and framed pictures as far as the eye could see.

he tried to imagine fern walking around between classes, sitting at desks and listening intently; it wasn't a hard task. what was tricky, though, was trying to see her walking around his catholic secondary school, sans blazer and clearly out of her depth amongst the sort of people who flocked through the blue gates every morning.

instead he could see fern perched in window sills along corridors with eloise and chesc, whispering to each other and talking about their weekend plans. at some point he hoped fern would talk about him, perhaps what film she'd forced him to watch or how nice he could actually be when he felt like the world and its mother wasn't watching him.

right at the end of the second right turn was the sports corridor, and noel's attention was dragged away from daydreaming about fern to looking at the glossy pictures secured behind hand-crafted frames. football teams were lined up next to newspaper clippings and cut outs from scoresheets at inter-school competitions.

in one about tennis, where a year eleven had won out in a city-based championship, there was a picture of a twelve year old girl running frantically across the court. noel recognised the name, lottie reid, because liam had come home one day swearing blind she was the squarest girl he'd ever met.

he complained as he kicked the football at the wall, complained as he was forced to sit at the dinner table and complete his spelling homework, and complained as he and noel were brushing their teeth much later that evening.

further along and finally in the corridor after the third right turning, were copied and framed prize-winning essays written by students. he saw something fern had written about the reformation, an essay by the girl she hated, jessica, about the harrying of the north, and something eloise had written about pride within 'othello'.

the door of h7 appeared halfway along, and noel breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw the back of fern's head through the sliver of glass. his relief was short lived however, when he noticed fern was leaning closer to talk over the desk towards a student teacher.

something in him clicked then, his beaten up leather jacket and scuffed trainers weighing heavily on his shoulders and feet in a school he shouldn't ever have been anywhere near. noel knocked on the door and regretted it as soon as he did, though fern's face breaking out into a wide smile when she turned and saw him settled an unease lurking at the back of his mind.

she walked steadily over to the door and opened it, pulling him in with a hand around his arm. "noel!" if his reluctancy wasn't obvious by his slow steps then he didn't know how he was going to tell fern, without grabbing her by the shoulders and telling it to her face, how he was increasingly uncomfortable and wanted to leave as soon as possible.

he stood near the door and cast his eyes around the room, much bigger than any class than he could remember at barlow r.c. there were desks placed two by two, covered in ink stains and spills running through the knots of wood on the surface. fern's place, in the middle of the room, was obvious. her blazer was draped over the back and she'd hooked her bag over her chair delicately.

noel looked at her looking intently at her teacher who looked vaguely familiar. fern was nodding and humming, occasionally pointing her pen at something she agreed with before writing it down at the end of her essay. he tapped his fingers against his thigh in impatience, looking at the hands of the clock inch further round the numbers, and noel wished he wouldn't ever start thinking that looking at fern was boring.

there was a slight smudge of eyeliner out of place from where she'd rubbed at it. behind her ear was a pink bruise blossoming into a deeper shade of mauve, and noel knew there was a matching one on the back of her calf. right on the tip of her chin was a dash of pen in the colour he knew eloise used. her nails drummed rhythmically on the back of her refill pad in a constant meter. fern's leg was bouncing up and down in a tell that noel knew meant she was impatient to leave.

"but i think that's everything for you there, fern, so if you get the chance to add some improvements leave it on my desk monday morning and i'll get it back to you as soon as i can."

noel nearly let out an audible sigh of relief as fern started to pack her things away into her bag. she winked at him as she pulled her blazer on and hiked the straps of her bag higher up her shoulder. "thanks, sir. sorry to keep you."

he followed fern as she walked closer to noel, wrapping her hand over his wrist in preparation to drag him out of the classroom. "no no, it's no trouble at all miss gibson. i'm here whenever you need me."

it was noel who was ready to grab fern and run then, when her teacher, who's face had just been connected to a name in his mind, left his hand on her shoulder. he hoped she wouldn't blush. a light tinge flooded from fern's nose and she cleared her throat to rush out a thank you before wrenching the door open and shutting it firmly behind her.

she looked at noel guiltily, and avoided his stern gaze by pretending to pat her pockets down for something. "don't even start i'm not in the mood for it," she said and shot off down the corridor without another look behind her.

fern marched around corners and down the large stair case. she shoved open the doors to the school with her shoulder, leaving just enough time for noel to grab them and slip out behind her. the receptionist had gone home, leaving half-completed paperwork abandoned on the desk.

it was still raining when fern reached her car, and her hand slipped from the handle when she tried too hard too quickly to open it. when noel eventually caught up with her, fern was leaning diagonally with her forehead planted against the roof of her car, bag hanging open on her shoulder.

noel gently took her car keys from her hand and opened the car for her, feeling like he was folding her up and unravelling her in the drivers seat. fern slumped forwards and lay, rather dramatically, over the steering wheel as noel sat in awkward silence. he began to shuffle through the cassette tapes he'd filled the glovebox with in an effort to distract himself from fern's theatrical display of emotion.

eventually, fern slowly fixed herself upright. "sorry," she sighed, "i didn't know he was coming back. really."

when fern pulled onto her driveway, rather quickly sending her and noel jolting sideways, she was still arguing with him. "i'm telling you, i didn't know he'd come back." she unlocked the front door and stormed up the stairs, and noel heard a crash he assumed was her school bag being thrown into a corner of her room.

"that's not what i care about, fern, and ye fucking know it." noel yelled back, hanging his jacket over the banister at the foot of the stairs. she blazed past him still in her uniform and beelined for the kitchen. noel followed her, ignoring her setting up her notebook on the breakfast bar. he stood on the other side of the counter, arms folded over his chest.

fern glared up at him, pen held so tightly her knuckles were turning white. "well then what is it you do care about, noel?"

"that you didn't tell me when he did come back. you know i can't fuckin stand him and you never even thought to pissin' tell me!" he argued back, fighting the urge to grab the essay fern had written, that was covered in his handwriting, in both hands and tear it apart.

she scoffed behind her hand. "like that would have gone well."

noel pulled his head up to look right at her. fern had her eyes cast down to where she was re-writing parts of her homework onto a blank piece of paper, chin balanced on her hand as her eyebrows raised in anticipation for his response. he could hear her smirk and when she let out a little scoff and mumbled "thought so" noel opened the french doors and stepped out onto the patio.

fern watched out of the corner of her eye as he brushed down one of the chairs from the set of patio furniture and lit up a cigarette. against her better judgement, fern stared at the flex of his vein as noel clicked his lighter a few times, tucking it into his pocket once the cigarette he held in his lips caught the flame.

she tried to look at her essay and really take in the feedback she'd gotten from mr watson, but the glint in his eye when he told fern that noel was shuffling about outside the classroom kept her mind away from school work. outside, noel reached out to tap the end of his cigarette out in the ash tray abandoned in the middle of the table, but when he noticed fern shuffle her chair slightly closer to the doors noel moved his hand to the side.

fern was out of her chair and right infront of him faster than he could blink. "do you mind not tapping it out on the actual table? there's an ash tray for a reason."

"thought you were too busy reading what hugo's written specially."

if anyone else had spoken to her like that, noel would have expected fern to flounce away with a sharp turn of her heel. instead all he did was simply hold out the cigarette to her. she put her hand out to take it from him but noel only gestured with his head for her to sit down next to him. eyeing him cautiously, fern sank into the chair and leaned closer.

noel lifted up the cigarette to her lips and fern took a long drag, exhaling heavily. "come on. i'm really sorry."

"yeah, i know."

it wasn't that noel didn't like hugo (it really was, he fucking hated the cunt), it was more the fact that fern had a thing with him before he left to become a teacher. hugo was a year older than fern and noel, and while noel didn't associate with anyone or anywhere related to st augistine's day and boarding school, it left him with an uneasy feeling of dread whenever fern or her friends would mention her old boyfriend around him.

he had trouble with saying the words 'i'm sorry' even to fern, so offering her the rest of his cigarette was the next best thing. noel watched her cheeks hollow as she took the last three drags, and patted his knee when felix came streaking around from the side of the garden shed to preen around his legs. the small cat hopped up onto noel's lap and settled there, contently purring away, until a bird landed in the middle of the garden.

felix dug his claws in and pounced, using noel as a spring board and, not looking back at the small "fuck" that sent fern's eyebrows raising into her fringe, stretched his small body out for the bird that fluttered away as quickly as it had landed.

as felix settled into the middle of the garden, stalking away into the bushes to claw his way up the trees where the birds were chirping eagerly, noel thought enough time had passed to allow him to broach the question to fern. "are you still okay to drop me off at mike's tonight?"

she hummed. "i was thinking of coming with you, actually."

"that'll be-" noel had half-risen from his chair and remained so still it was like he'd been paused. "what?"

fern looked at him, feigning confusion. "last night, you said i could come with you if i wanted to."

"ha, um, look fern i wasn't really thinking perfectly straight when i said that." she pulled the same face at him that she'd done the night before. the one she made right before she pulled him into her room after mrs gibson had let him in through the front door, and pushed him down onto the middle of her bed only for fern to get halfway through palming him through his trousers when she declared she had homework to do.

upon recollection, in his haze of fleeting pleasure, there was a slight chance that noel had let the question slip. the look in fern's eye was far too much to take even for him, and he would have given in there and then if it wasn't for the chance that one of her neighbours could look out of their window to see a pair of teenagers getting it on in her parent's garden.

if anything, noel knew he had to make up for his overreaction to fern choosing, probably for the better because he knew he could be a miserable cunt at the best of times, not to tell him about hugo watson. he sighed and led her back inside, only to ask if he could use the phone.

"fine, you can come. but none of this prissy princess bullshit, and don't smoke, eat or drink anything that i don't give directly to you."

🪩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🎸

[captainsophiestark]

Werewolf

Remus Lupin x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023​! It features a ton of other awesome creators and runs all year, so go check it out!

Fandom: Harry Potter

Prompt: Artemis; wilderness, the moon, protection, hounds

Summary: Remus' SO decides to finally figure out why he's been looking so rough every month and gets more answers than they bargained for.

Word Count: 1,890

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Mysteries were overrated.

Every so often, when I dove headfirst into learning something new and spent hours doing that for fun, I wondered whether I should've been sorted into Ravenclaw instead of Gryffindor. But now, after spending far too long trying to reason my way to understanding, I'd decided to throw logic out the window and do some good old fashioned following people around instead. My Ravenclaw friends would never let me hear the end of it when I told them, but right now, I didn't care.

My boyfriend, Remus Lupin, had been ill on and off for months. He leaned on his friends, relied on them for support, but never turned to me. I'd talked to him once or twice, but he'd never given me a straight answer, and when the third month in a row came around that he looked on the verge of death's doorstep, I decided to get to the bottom of things one way or another.

Which was why I was out in the middle of the night on the Hogwarts grounds, trailing a far distance back from the Marauders as they moved in a pack. All of them except my boyfriend seemed in good spirits, and whatever was going on, I felt for Remus. I hadn't expected the adventure to take us out of the castle, so I still wore pajamas, and only love for my boyfriend kept me from turning right around to seek shelter from the cold night air.

To my surprise, the four boys ahead of me made straight for the Whomping Willow. I knew they were idiots, but I had no idea what possible draw the murder tree could have for them right now, especially with Remus so clearly feeling terrible. Then, in a flash, Peter disappeared.

I blinked and rubbed at my eyes, trying to figure out what I'd seen. Then, in the dull moonlight just barely filtering through the clouds, I saw a rat scurry across the roots of the tree. A moment later, the branches froze in place, and the remaining three boys ducked into a passage normally hidden among the roots, the rat following right after them.

Of course they were unregistered Animagi. I knew that month they'd spent barely talking hadn't been a ploy to mess with the Slytherin Quidditch team, or James trying to impress Lily with his friends' support, or anything else they'd claimed. But Remus hadn't been part of that.

Before I could second guess myself, I let every last ridiculous Gryffindor instinct take over and rushed to the tree, sliding into the hole at its base a split second before the branches began whipping around again furiously. I muttered a quick lumos to light the way ahead of me, then hurried after the boys.

Before I got very far into the tunnel, I heard horrifying screams coming from ahead, the same kinds people said came from the Shrieking Shack. I hesitated for half a second before racing off down the tunnel in the direction the boys had gone. Whatever that noise was, it wasn't good, and I needed to make sure Remus and our friends were alright.

I made it about ten steps forward before I collided with someone. They wrapped their arms around me and held me in place to keep me from moving forward, and after a moment's shouting and confusion, I recognized the person holding me.

"Y/N, you have to get out of here!" shouted James, his tone urgent. I'd never heard him yell like this before, never saw his cool composure drop to the level of the panic currently in his eyes.

"James, what's going on?" I cried. I heard that horrible screeching again, and I tried to move past him. "Where's Remus?"

"You have to leave, now! It's not safe-!"

A moment later, an earsplitting howl replaced the screaming. I froze and so did James, and our wide eyes slowly found each other. I knew that howl from Defense Against the Dark Arts. That was a werewolf.

"You have to run, now," James finally said, his voice low but firm. "If you don't, he'll kill you. It doesn't matter that he loves you, when he's transformed... he has no control."

"Is he... is he going to be okay?"

"Not if he comes back to himself to find out he killed you. Now get out!"

With that, James turned on his heel and transformed before my eyes into a gigantic, gorgeous stag. I could hear barking and snarling further down the corridor, still not close but definitely getting closer. I hesitated, hating to leave without doing anything, but James was right. I didn't have a choice.

I took off running back the way I'd come, trusting the Marauders to take care of Remus tonight. For now, that was the best I could do.

Commotion followed me the whole way out of the tunnel, getting just so slightly closer as to make me nervous. When I finally raced out of the tunnel, I just remembered to slam the root on the tree to stop the branches. I didn't look back as I raced up the grounds to the doors of the castle, finally breathing a sigh of relief from the safety of the entry hall.

I quickly ducked into the nearest secret passage lest Filch catch me out of bed, then slumped back against the wall and slowly sank to the ground. The adrenaline of the past few minutes crashed over me in waves, and I focused on taking long, deep breaths. Slowly, as I calmed down, the actual information that came with my investigation tonight sank in.

My boyfriend was a werewolf. His three best friend were unregistered Animagi, and they apparently spent every full moon with him in their animal forms.

Every DADA class we'd spent discussing werewolves (which, thankfully, hadn't been that many) suddenly came rushing back to me. All the time our teacher had spent talking about them as if they were monsters, while Remus just had to sit there and listen. I clenched and unclenched my fists, taking a second to run the odds on expulsion if I punched a teacher.

Remus was nothing but the sweetest, most wonderful person I'd ever met, and I was so lucky to have him in my life. The thought of people ignoring that, of Remus' face if someone called him a monster... all I wanted to do was wrap him up tight in my arms and never let him go.

I decided to focus on that last feeling instead of the 'punch a teacher' feeling. I had no idea how long these transformations lasted, but I had a feeling Remus would be awfully beat up when he finally did make it back here. With a quick pitstop in the kitchens to grab a few of his favorite snacks, I headed back up to the Gryffindor common room to wait.

Only sheer force of will and a deep love for Remus kept me from passing out after the first hour. The fire was warm, the blanket nest I'd made on my favorite common room couch was comfortable, and the adrenaline dump just made me want to pass out. But I kept my eyes open, waiting for him to come back. Finally, a little after three in the morning, the portrait door swung open.

"Come on, Moony, let's get you upstairs."

"It's okay, nobody got hurt-"

The Marauders staggered into the common room, James and Sirius holding Remus between them as Peter held the door. They all froze on the spot, however, when they saw me waiting on the couch.

"Hey," I said, finally moving from the spot I'd spent the past few hours holding down. I blinked sleepy eyes and managed a smile as I approached Remus and the others. "Uh... do you guys mind if I get a minute with my boyfriend?"

James and Sirius shared significant looks, then both turned to Peter. After a moment's hesitation, they looked back at me and nodded.

"Moony we'll, uh... we'll see you upstairs," said James. He nodded to me as he eased away from Moony and headed for the stairs, Sirius following behind him with a narrow-eyed warning look in my direction. Peter followed, giving me a mix of a look between James and Sirius'. Then, finally, I was alone with my boyfriend.

"So... I'm still your boyfriend?" he asked. He leaned heavily to one side, away from me, as I approached him. The hurt and defeat in his voice ripped my heart open all over again.

"Rem... of course. I love you. Nothing could ever change that."

Remus didn't look like he quite believed me, but he drifted in my direction anyway. I smiled and closed the rest of the distance, taking up the position his friends had filled before. I wrapped an arm around his waist and started leading him towards the couch.

"You're not... afraid of me?"

I scoffed and helped Remus ease down into the blankets, then settled in next to him. I'd spent hours preparing this fort, and when I saw a little weight ease off of Remus' shoulders as he settled in, it was worth it.

"Of course I'm not afraid of you. I love you."

"But James said..."

"Never mind what James said. I love you, Rem, and nothing in the world could ever change that. I'm just sorry I couldn't do more to help you."

Remus huffed a laugh as I leaned against his side, then finally put his arm around me. I laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he spoke and wrapping my arms around him in the most comforting hug I could.

"You find out I'm a werewolf and almost get killed in the process... and you're wishing you could've done more to help me?"

"I'm a Gryffindor, babe, I don't scare easy."

He laughed fully now, loud and joyous. It didn't last long, since he was clearly exhausted, but the sound made my heart sing.

"What on earth did I do to deserve someone as wonderful as you?"

"You were a wonderful person every single day of your life, clearly. Now here, look what I got." Without further ado, I pulled out the snacks I'd stolen from the kitchen. Remus literally gasped.

"Did you get these for me?"

"Yup. If I'd gotten them for me, they'd've been gone already."

"You're wonderful. Have I mentioned that lately?"

"Yes, but I can always stand to hear it again." We shared a smile as Remus dug into the snacks, his head resting against mine, and then I sighed. "So... what do you think the odds are of the rest of the Marauders helping me through the steps to become an Animagus?"

Remus choked on what he was eating, then looked at me with wide eyes.

"You're kidding."

"I'm not! I want to be there to support you, Rem, through everything. I guess... as long as that's okay with you?"

He smiled, then gave a little disbelieving laugh. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my forehead before snuggling up with me again.

"I can't think of anything that would be more okay with me."

"Okay, good. But I'm going to put myself in charge of coming up with a lie to cover the mandrake leaf in my mouth. I'm pre-vetoing anything the rest of you come up with."

"Probably a good decision."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

Harry Potter Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[linkedsoul]

HI MY FRENCHIES FROM THE 3RD CIRCUMSCRIPTION OF FRENCH PEOPLE ABROAD aka my French residents of Northern Europe and especially London: (and my English speaking followers who'd like to French elections drama)

Macron's candidate, Vincent Caure, is blatantly lying on his program about his opponent's party, the NFP, which feels very dishonest and, frankly, kind of pathetic? I know Frenchies in London voted a lot for him but PLEASE let's not let a liar get ahead of the race.

He claims the NFP - a coalition of green and leftist parties - will have Mélenchon as Prime Minister. For some reason, the French media is OBSESSED with making Mélanchon (the leader of a prominent leftist party) THE DEVIL. Look. I know some people don't like Mélenchon even on the left. But he's NOT EVEN PART OF THIS ELECTION. Besties: he's not a candidate anywhere. And even less for French people abroad. And even worse: the NFP has NEVER said who they'd send as Prime Minister if they get the majority in the assembly. This is FAKE.

He pretends French people abroad will be doubly taxed because of the NFP wants to put back the "exit tax", and that the NFP is obsessed with the universal tax (aka paying taxes for your country even when you work abroad). The exit tax is a specific tax that affects only people who own A LOT in assets. I have no idea how to even reach to that kind of criteria. I don't think neither me nor any of the French people I know in Dublin have the assets required to have to pay the exit tax. I wish I had that amount of money so I could get taxed on it! Alas, Vincent Caure and I don't live in the same world because it's not even remotely a worry for me. As for the universal tax, it's nowhere in the NFP's program so I guess they're not as obsessed with it as Vincent claim they are.

He offers to put more procedures online such as passpot renewal online whereas the NFP offers nothing. Ok slay king, then run your campaign on that instead of telling lies. Unless this is your only good point?

He claims that the NFP wants to end nuclear energy, which would make us depend on Russian gas. Nowhere is this written on the NFP program. There are only 4 mentions of the word "nuclear" in the NFP program and none of it is associated to the word "stop" or "end", half of them are not even about nuclear energy itself... I don't see where he got that from.

He does agree that the NFP wants to make railways more accessible but argue that they didn't vote for a law making mobility within France easier. Fair! He forgets to mention most of the supporters of this law were his party only and BOTH LEFT AND RIGHT voted against, citing lack of funding for this law as an issue, that the Prime Minister back then brushed away, so take that what you will. Also want to note his only point for this program is that they're going to use the funding for transport that they already have so... ok good? that's not revolutionary. That's just expected.

He also claims that:

the left is the one who led to the far right taking the lead when it's his own party who called for an election. Like. The move no one expected nor wanted except the far right. That was all Macron. That was all your party. You guys flirted so much with the far right that you led them right in, that is NOT the left's fault and even less your favorite scapegoat, Jean-Luc Mélenchon - who, I'd like to remind everyone, is not a candidate for this election oh my god shut up about Mélenchon already I don't care about Mélenchon why are you obsessed with Mélenchon

The left wants a Frexit because of their tax policies (debunked above) and nuclear energy policies (also debunked above). The left is notoriously pro-EU, his opponent is a British-French citizen who probably saw the shitshow of Brexit from the front rows. And even if the left wants to tax VERY rich people trying to avoid being taxed on their huge assets out of France (fun fact: it's for the people who try and get their assets moved to Dubai not to pay taxes on them lmao) and wanted to reduce the use of nuclear energy, that does not equate Frexit, like, I... I don't see the correlation.

The left is planning for 300 billion more expenses and intends to cover for those expenses by taxing people the most. The thing he's not saying is that they intend to tax the richest. It's the rich the target. The very VERY rich. Not you, regular French immigrant to Ireland who struggles with the cost of life in Dublin and cry for a better flat.

ALL IN ALL: Vincent Caure is a liar who ment comme un arracheur de dent et fait sa campagne dessus, ce qui est un peu dégueu.

He cries about potential taxes that would only affect a very, very tiny minority of French people who were probably trying to evade said taxes anyway and tries to frame it as "double taxing French people abroad"

The left wants to tax the rich and good for them and good for us who are not playing in the targeted tax bracket AT ALL.

Macron's party is the one who's fucked us all over; Attal is a notoriously impopular Prime Minister; they're a party for the rich (as proven above by trying to act as if a tax on the rich was gonna be a double tax for everyone like... lmao how out of touch are you) and love to frame themselves as the only right solution QUAND C'EST EUX QUI NOUS ONT MIS DANS LA MERDE

As with the rest of his party, he's obsessed with Mélenchon, who has nothing to do with this specific election since the opposition is initially from the Green Party.

SVP SI VOUS ÊTES DANS LA 3E CIRCONSCRIPTION DES FRANÇAIS À L'ÉTRANGER, VOTEZ CHARLOTTE MINVIELLE AU MOINS POUR NE PAS ÊTRE REPRÉSENTÉ PAR UN CANDIDAT QUI VOUS MENT SANS HONTE POUR AVOIR DES VOTES

and for my English speaking friends: please pray for us all (at least here the far right is not gonna pass but I'd rather not have such a liar for deputee please and thank you)

ET COMME TOUJOURS, ON EMMERDE LE FRONT NATIONAL!

[hils79]

Hils Watches Lovely Runner - Ep 1

Time to start a new drama and this is another one I found via gifs on @sarah-yyy's blog, which is usually a good sign of quality :D

I love starting a new drama. Is this going to ruin my life (positive) or ruin my life (negative). Only time will tell.

Wow this is the most awkward radio call ever. I have no idea how radio shows in Korea work but surely they'd do some sort of screening before having an idol call a random woman who can't walk and offering her running shoes as a prize. I don't blame her at all for being pissed off.

Also, this wasn't what I was expecting from the synopsis. I thought she was the sunshine one and he was the angsty one. Well, we'll see what happens I guess.

Oh no he's a sweetheart and I'm crying already. This does not bode well for the rest of the drama

Looks like my bedroom 😅

I realise that as someone who is also fannish I probably have a skewed view of things but I was freaking out on her behalf when I found it this belonged to her idol and people kept playing with it.

Holy shit that's nearly £2k no wonder she was freaking out

Oh, now he's the tired and angsty one. So I'm guessing since he saved her when she was ready to end it all now she's going to save him. I really feel like I've seen him in something before but there's nothing I've seen on his MDL page. Maybe it's just because he actually looks like an idol.

Oh no she's me

I love her

So the boy she had a crush on when she was in school got kicked out for fighting after her accident. I smell a love triangle...

Unrealistic because she was running late and the merch hasn't already sold out

Um...no?

Ah, so when she said she was late she meant fannish late not actual late. But come on, if that company doesn't respect your free time before you've even started working for them they def won't if you get an internship with them

So they don't value her time and they don't work in an accessible building. Fuck them, honestly.

Admittedly I've never been to a kpop concert but that can't be a thing, surely. We got stuck in the snow on the way to a hockey game once and no one cared that we showed up halfway through the game

Oh no and she lost her ticket. I mean that's on her I would be checking for it every 30 seconds, but then I have anxiety 😅 I really need to stop expecting realisim from a time travel romance drama.

Aww look she's having a good time even though she couldn't get in to see him. He made her into the sunshine one and now she's doing to do the same for him.

I wasn't expecting them to meet until after the time travel thing. But here he is to save her again. He's a good boy.

Is it going to turn out he saved her back then too. Ooh, or was it the other guy that she had a crush on. I'm sure this will turn out to be significant

Me when Seonghwa wears literally anything

I have definitely never done this *cough*

Do people just not help each other in this drama? The person who knocked her phone out of her hand and smashed it didn't even stop, and the person who crashed into her and made her lose her watch apparently is cool with letting a paralysed woman crawl around on the ground trying to get it back.

Well, shit. A significant time of death though. Right at the start of a new year. I'm sure this is magical somehow.

Wibbly wobbly timey wimey

Wait, why has she suddenly got joggers on under her skirt? Those weren't there when she ran out of the classroom to find him

Okay, the irony is not lost on me that in 2008 he was training to be on the olympic swim team and in 2022 he drowned in a pool. But also this poor kid getting glomped by a random girl he doesn't know in front of everyone

Gotta love a romance that starts with a confession the first time they meet. I mean I know it's not their first meeting for her but it is for him

Haha! She mean let's both not cross the bridge into the underworld and stay alive. He thinks this random girl wants to move in with him.

Ooh so she was talking about his depression in the future and he thought she was talking about his shoulder injury that he's hiding from everyone. This has layers! I like it!

You can tell it's the past because there's a DVD rental store

I love dramas with emotionally significant umbrellas (see also Tale of the Nine-Tailed