I'm Adding X Reader Tags For The Purpose Of Knowing That They Will Probably Come Up With The Funniest

I'm adding x reader tags for the purpose of knowing that they will probably come up with the funniest shit ever

Hey yall, I need some help. So hopefully in about 2 years I'll be able to get a puppy. My dad (who I still live with, sad I know) wants to wait because right now we're not ready for another dog. (We currently have a dog, the cat further down in my blog is my mom's cat, if it's still there) he also won't let me if our current dog isn't doing good at that time. But anyways I'm thinking about getting a chocolate lab puppy. I know for sure I'm getting a lab but I want to get a chocolate one. I've picked out some names already because I like doing that. I want some help thinking of more names. I tagged a bunch of Fandoms so hopefully I can get some nerdy names but I also want hilarious names!

Our current list:

The "love" ones: Bucky (marvel), Boone (twisters), Coffee Beans or Beans (nickname(nn)), Butter, Captain Wigglebutt or Wiggles (nn), Meatball, Moose, Godzilla

The "really liked" ones: Rocket (marvel), Rooster (topgun), Jensen (the actor), Potato, Brownie, Caesar

The "liked" ones: Bruce (harley quinn), Tyler (twisters), Raleigh (Pacific rim), Wally, Mudflap

The "not my favorite but they're good names" ones: Maverick (topgun), Logan (Xmen)

So please, message me, reblog this, comment what ever, tell me some good names whether they be Fandom related, just down right funny, or both. One thing, try to keep a little bit to the theme of him being a chocolate lab and a male. Like coffee beans because they're brown and I think Beans would be a hilarious names. If the name has a nickname please tell me that too. Thank you everyone!!!

Getting into monster fucking fics because of Halloween time > celebrating Halloween like a normal person

Oh how I've missed these two!! I didn't even realize this was out until like 15 minutes ago. So happy I decided to check tumblr!

Before I Knew You - Part Twelve

Bill Weasley x Reader

Masterlist, Part One

Summary: You’ve spent years training under Madam Pomfrey in the hopes that you would join the Healers at St. Mungo’s at graduation. But in the aftermath of the death of Albus Dumbledore, you chose to join the Order instead. When you’re forced into hiding, you find yourself alone with Bill Weasley and his new wolfish tendencies.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: 18+, typical canon warnings, age gap, oral sex (male recieving), angst, allusions to knotting, secrets. Minors DNI.

A/N: Thank you Anon for the inspiration 💕

It was warm, sweat dampening your skin. Something heavy on your chest. Wind on your ear. Your eyes opened with effort. 

Bill remained sleeping peacefully. An ache in your pelvis bloomed as you squirmed out from under him. With effort you stood. The amount of spend that rushed down your thighs was staggering. Despite the soreness there didn’t seem to be anything physically wrong. You ran a diagnostic to be sure. Everything was as it should be. Better for Bill.

Still, your trip to the bathroom was an extended one. You had to sit under the stream of water instead of standing in the shower. When you wobbled back to the room, you were careful to avoid the puddle you’d left on the floor. It was still early. Or late? The sun wasn’t up.

“Bill?”

He groaned as you shook his shoulder. Mumbled something you didn’t understand. It took several more shakes for him to open his eyes. More words you didn’t understand. They didn’t even sound like English. You gave up, laid a kiss on his forehead, and covered him in a new blanket. As you dressed, you saw the evidence of his affections. Bruises on your hips. Hickies and bite marks along your neck and chest. You’d have to sacrifice a bit of Dittany to heal them. 

With Bill deep in sleep, you didn’t feel the need to be quiet. You set the kettle on the stove and opened your notebook to a fresh page.

—

Your third cup had grown cold as you went over the notes again and again. There was too much missing. Too little information about werewolves and nothing about whatever in between Bill was. The little you’d documented was nowhere near enough to understand what had happened. You needed more. 

—

The sun rose higher over the hill, lighting the homes dotting the countryside. Dew wet the hem of your pants as you strided across the lawn. It was early, only a few minutes after sunrise, but you knew they’d be awake. Your knock was too loud for the quiet morning.

Tonks opened the door confused. “Is Bill okay?”

“As fine as he can be with everyone keeping secrets.”

Her face pinched. She checked over your shoulder before moving aside and ushering you in. “Tea or firewhiskey?”

With a grimace as you sat at her small, round table, you answered, “Firewhiskey.” It’s like deja vu as she filled a glass with too much alcohol and set it in front of you. The burn it left was equally as familiar.

She sat across from you, nails clanking against her own glass. “I told Remus it was a bad idea to not tell you everything.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t understand what it’s like to be on this side of things, seeing someone you love go through that sort of thing it’s damn near debilitating, ain’t it?” She downed the glass. “He forgets the bond works both ways.”

“Bond?”

She poured more Firewhiskey into both glasses. “The mating bond.”

—

Bill was still asleep when you returned. You cleaned the remnants of the night before, put a pot of stew to simmer on the stove, returned to the bed, and stared at him. Sweat drenched hair clung to his forehead. Mouth parted with the tiniest trail of drool. An occasional snore that blew across your face. The raised edges of scarred skin contrasted by the smooth expanse between them. He was ethereal. Branded by some demonic force, but still divine. 

And yours. And you his. 

Mated. Bonded. Irrevocably intertwined. Tonks’ revelation left you somewhere between relief and despair. There was no choice in this, not for either of you. Magic had decided and weaved a connection so thoroughly through your beings that there was no hope of any sense of peace or happiness without the other. 

“It doesn’t make it any less real,” Tonks had said quietly in the doorway before you left. Remus had gotten in a few minutes before, somehow convinced you’d only come by to give him a bottle of Murtlap Essence. As angry as you were with him, you couldn’t add that burden when he could barely stand. “What we feel for them, it’s not any less real.”

Your fingers brushed across his forehead, pushing back the hair. All the feelings and desires you had for him, the ones you’d felt so much guilt for, he had them too. You’d known that before. Even if you’d tried to explain it away, deep down you’d known. Maybe you’d been trying to protect yourself. Maybe you’d been trying to protect him. It didn’t matter. All that repression and denial had been pointless. Had hurt more than helped him. 

That’s why last night happened. She’d called it a knot. Her information was limited, only her own experience and what little Remus had been able to learn from his time amongst different communities. And even that was dubious as the reasoning varied amongst groups. Some thought it was for mating, to try to increase the extremely low birth rate, while others thought it was meant to strengthen the bond between mates, and still others thought it was meant to be some form of rejeunitve ritual to contrast the extreme tolls of the transformation. Tonks' best guess was that it was somewhere in between all three. 

They tended to deal with it in the days before and after the full moon. “It’s usually quite pleasant,” she’d said. “We just lay together for a few minutes until the swelling goes down. That first full moon though,” her whole body shivered, “it was like it’d built up when we were dancing around the bush. I was sore for a good two weeks. But Remus looked better than he had in months.”

You could have helped him sooner. Forgone all the angst and pain. If only you’d known before it had gotten complicated. 

“Does anyone else know about the mate stuff?”

Sadness had etched into her brow. “Not anyone still alive.”

It’s when the sun is at its highest in the sky that he finally wakes. You were in the garden when he joined you, fresh from the shower, clad on in boxers, and holding a bowl of stew. “I’d say morning,” you teased, “but that was a couple hours ago.”

He gave a dopey, lopsided grin. Beautiful. He was so beautiful.

You stood, dusting off the dirt, and went to his side. The heat from his body seeped through the fabric of your shirt. With a tilt of your head, you pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips.

He sniffed. "Tonks came by?"

"No, I, uh, went to see her," you said, heading inside.

"Alone?" His hand grabbed yours, and he spun you toward him.

"In hindsight, stupid, I know, but," you shrugged, "I was worried about you. About what had happened last night."

"You should've woken me."

"I tried." You laid your free hand on his chest. "I won't do it again."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, love." He pulled you against him, his arms tight around you. His cheek rested against the top of your head. His breath blew over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “What’d she say?”

You shrugged again. “It was just some leftover physiological stuff from wolves. Might happen again tonight and will every full moon, but it’ll be less intense. Nothing to worry about.”

—

Two full moons passed. The cottage had become more active. Order members were frequent visitors now. Between physicals, injuries, and the brief run of a rather vicious flu, you were kept fairly busy as a Healer. And when you weren’t, the various members had worked with you on improving your defensive spells. You weren’t great, but you had gotten better. To the point you no longer stayed at the cottage at all times. You were at Order meetings now and had been waiting at their rendezvous point during their important missions. 

One of those missions had been raiding an apothecary hidden amongst the hills beyond a muggle village. Stealing wasn’t something the Order typically approved of, but as the owner had taken out several ads in the Daily Prophet boasting they were working on a potion that would detect Muggleborns, an exception had been made. Its success left you with a diverse collection of ingredients and mediocrely brewed potions. Including an extensive stash of Occamy eggs.

Your first attempt at the Wolfsbane Potion hadn’t been successful, but you had high hopes for the second.

“…four, five, six,” George counted his stirs and stepped aside for you to wave your wand over the cauldron again. You waited. His nails tapped against the counter. Nothing. You covered his hand to stop them. Your shoulders slumped. Another failure. You turned away from the offending cauldron and began to clean up the prep. “It’s a difficult potion,” George said, grabbing the chopping boards and utensils to walk over to the sink. “We’ll get it next time.”

“Yeah,” you agreed halfheartedly over the sound of the running water, “next time.”

George was one of your more constant companions. Fred had been too, early on. He hadn’t been by in over a month. “Tomorrow?”

The cabinet shut with a loud slam that made you cringe. “Can’t.” Without a word, he handed you a clean, damp rag before returning to scrubbing a knife. “Remus wants everyone to start carrying some chocolate at all times, but we don’t really trust the wizard stuff anymore. He dropped off a satchel of some muggle ones I’ve got to melt down and add some Anti-Melting Potion to. Think I might try infusing some with dittany, see how it works out.”

“Think we could try some with Wit-Sharpening Potion? Those things always made me feel foggy.”

Your hand stopped mid swipe. “That’s bloody brilliant, George.”

He laughed. “No need to sound so surprised. Got a whole line of potion infused sweets, you know?”

“Oh I remember,” you said, a smile crawling up your cheeks. “Bane of my existence during exam week.”

George was great at distractions. He kept the conversation going, talking about the different techniques they had started making their own. He talked and talked without mentioning the still full cauldron as he helped prepare dinner. He had you laughing at some story of the time they’d slipped a Fire-Breath Butterscotch into their mum’s candy bowl and Arthur nearly burnt down the Burrow. “Hell of a Howler Mum sent. Would’ve made a great ad if we could’ve saved it.” We. Always we. Never him and—

“How is Fred?” you asked, pushing onion around the pan.

“Better. Not coming around to it yet, but,” he shrugged, “not as angry.”

The oil sizzles and bubbles as the chicken hits it, bouncing up to try to burn you for the disruption. “He doesn’t have any right to be angry. It's not like we knew.”

“Maybe not, but he still is. Keeps saying Bill planned this all out to get you to himself. And yes it’s ridiculous,” he said before you could, “and I’m sure he knows it’s ridiculous, but he’s hurt. Wants to believe if things had worked out differently, if he’d been here more or if you’d been with us instead, it’d be him.”

“It doesn’t matter how differently things could have gone, it’d still be Bill.”

“Maybe. It’s the what ifs that make it hard for him.”

There were no what ifs. It was always, would always, be Bill. But you couldn’t tell him that. “I just wish he’d be happy for his brother. After he’s gone through, he deserves some happiness.”

George’s hand rested on your shoulder and pressed an affectionate kiss to your hair. “And so do you. Don’t let Fred’s jealousy ruin it. He’ll come around eventually. Might take a close call or two, but eventually.”

—

Bill sniffed your hair and made a face. “George is lucky he’s my second favorite brother.”

“Mine too.”

“As long as I’m first.”

“First? Why on earth would you be first? No, no, it’s Charlie, obviously, then George, then Percy when he gets his head out of his ass, then Ron, that ghoul pretending to be Ron right now, and lastly Fred if he ever gets his head out of his ass.”

“I don’t even make the list?”

You grinned up at him. “Of my favorite brother-in-laws? What, you think me and Ginny are a better fit?”

He growled, though it was more a laugh. “You love riling me up, don’t you?”

“I would never do such a thing.” 

—

“Higher,” Remus said, nudging your arm. “Keep your feet firm. It’s got a kick.” That you didn’t need to be told. You’d already been knocked on your ass twice. “When you’re ready.” One breath. Two. The spell shot out, turquoise light hitting the dummy square in the chest. It flew back, arms flailing, and crashed against the cliff face a hundred yards away. The impact made it shatter. “That was fantastic!” 

You didn’t share his smile. It was only meant to knock them back and incapacitate a target. Not decimate it. “That would’ve killed a person.”

“Yes,” he agreed, more solemn. “A person who would have no qualms over killing you. Or anyone else. Sometimes we’ll have to make difficult decisions to protect the people we love.”

The wand in your hand seemed heavy. Magic had the ability to do so much good. And the ability to do so much evil. “I think that’s enough for today.” He let you retreat into the cottage without a fight. Where George would have spoken, Remus was silent. He let you wade in your own thoughts undisturbed.

—

24 December 1989

“I don’t understand,” your mother said, staring at the wall of potions. “Can they cure colds or heal wounds or regrow bones?”

You nodded eagerly, gripping her hand. You knew she’d be impressed. “All of the above! And more! I can even learn to make them! There’s also healing spells I’ll get to do when I’m older. Incredible, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Incredible.”

You sat on the stairs, head against the wall listening to them talk. Mum had been sad after you’d gotten back. You knew it because she’d gotten out her crossstitch she hadn’t touched in a year. You’d thought it was because Dad had been working and couldn’t see. But when you told her you could bring dad another day she’d said no. They’d sent you off to bed early too, claiming an early day.

“...all these medicines and treatments when just a couple drops of these potions could cure it all. They can regrow bones, Alan. And that’s just the beginning of it. And they keep it to themselves. These potions could be saving countless lives and they’re keeping it to themselves.”

3 March 1990

“The separation of our worlds keeps more Muggles safe. While we might be able to save some, if they were to be more exposed to the things of our world—like Dragon Pox or misfired spells—far more would die. Their bodies aren’t built for magical intervention. We save more by staying away.”

1 July 1990

Your parents smiled warmly, waving their arms from their spot outside one of the gift shops. You pulled your trunk along and tried to match their smiles. So much had changed since Christmas. They’d never step on Platform 9 ¾ again. It was for the best, Dumbledore had assured. It was better for them to forget about magic and the medical miracles it could perform. They’d be safer and happier that way.

Your parents wrapped you in a tight hug. “Your marks were fantastic,” your father said. “We’re so proud of you, Bug.”

— 

“They don’t remember that you’re a witch?”

Bill had found you on the floor of the room you shared, the photos Corbin had taken of your parents spread across it. You didn’t have any other photos of them. “Mum had a kid die on her after a bad car accident. She knew magic would’ve saved him. So she started reaching out to Dumbledore, refusing to believe there was no good reason to keep magic out of Muggle medicine. Not if it could save people.” Her head was thrown back in a laugh at something your father said in one of the photos. “She became a risk to the Statue of Secrecy. Dumbldore acted before the Ministry could find out. And my dad couldn’t know if mum didn’t. Too risky.”

“Where did they think you were every year?”

“Some prestigious school over in Finland. They think I’m over there now, working on a degree.”

“But they got you the farm.”

“Thought it was better than dumping money into an account in my name. An abandoned farm didn’t need upkeep.” Your fingers brushed over one of the photos of them having dinner at a restaurant they loved. When you were younger, before McGonnagal had come along, you’d go as a family every Thursday. “Sometimes I think Dumbledore’s charm worked too well. Like they forget I exist when I’m not around. I’m not sure they’ll notice if I never see them again.”

“Of course they’d notice.”

You didn’t argue. They were happier living in ignorant bliss. Just like he was. “You’re right,” you said, wiping your eyes and gathering the photos. His hands joined yours in collecting them. You smiled along as he said how much you looked like your father.

—

Blue smoke billowed out the cauldron. You blinked. Blue smoke. Blue smoke. Blue smoke!

George’s excited yelps sounded far away, even as he picked you up and spun you around. “We did it! We fucking did it!” 

—

Bill’s focus on the paper strayed as you sank to your knees in front of the couch. “What are you doing, love?”

Your fingers teased up the side of his legs. "Nothing." Your eyes locked onto his and you smiled innocently. You held them until they fluttered shut as one of your hands grazed his clothed cock that twitched from the attention. He was already hard. Fingers trailed light paths up and down his cock, his hips jerking upwards, but he didn’t say a word. The paper crumpled slightly, his knuckles going white.

"Something wrong, Bill?"

His head dropped back and the paper fell forgotten to the floor. "You're a brat, you know that?"

"Oh?" Your hand cupped his cock, rubbing the palm against it. He let out a groan.

"You want me to fuck you, is that it?"

"No," you said, "not yet." With practiced ease, your fingers undid his pants. His hips lifted so you could pull them and his boxers down to his knees. You licked your lips at the sight. "Right now I want to hear what pretty noises you can make for me." Before he could reply, your mouth wrapped around his cock. Bill cried out, hips jerking. You relaxed your jaw and added your hand to his base to help with the size.

"Fuck," he breathed, "fuck, fuck."

You sucked and bobbed. Your free hand slid along his thighs, dipping to brush against his sack every so often. He moaned and groaned. His hands clutched to the couch so tightly you were surprised it didn't rip.

"Love, I'm close," he gasped, his hips lifting. You maintained the rhythm you’d built, only deviating by using your hand to cup his balls. His cock twitched in your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat. His back arched as he spilled. You swallowed all of him, the salty taste familiar. You let him slip out after one last swipe of your tongue made him shiver and rested your head against his thigh, listening to him catch his breath.

"I don't know if I should be offended," you mused. "I don't think fucking me has ever made you cum that fast."

He let out a breathy laugh. "Only cause I have amazing restraint, love." His hand lifted your chin and he leaned forward. "Your mouth is wonderful," he said between slow kisses, "but your cunt is damn near enchanted." His wandering hands made his intentions clear. 

But the tell-tell pop of Apparition had him groaning, already working on tucking himself away. Considering the amount of time you’d almost been walked in on, this wasn’t nearly as bad. At least he got to finish.  Lee's voice traveled through the cracked window, "Do you need a minute to make yourselves presentable?"

"Oh they better not." George's disgusted voice rose to add, "You knew we were coming over!"

Bill's eyebrow rose and you grinned back innocently. “It’s a good thing you were quick.” A quick peck against his incoherently mumbling lips and then you stood, heading towards the bathroom. "It's safe!"

—

Bill was out of bed before you even sat up, wand in hand. “Stay here,” he whispered as an unfamiliar voice called out his name over the knocking. You followed. The sun hadn’t risen yet and that cottage was still dark. You stayed behind the couch as he approached the door. Wand pointed, he opened it.

Ron stood there. He looked thinner than the last time you’d seen him. His hair longer, a patchy beard on his face. Leaves and twigs clung to his clothes, there were scratches across his face, and mud caked on his shoes and the hem of his pants. 

Bill hadn’t lowered his wand. “What did Percy find in his stocking Christmas of ‘89?”

“Gnome dung,” he said, voice hoarse. “But Pettigrew would know that too. You should ask something more recent.”

Bill ignored the suggestion. He pitched forward to embrace his youngest brother, nearly sending the two of them tumbling in the sand. “And Harry? Hermione?”

“Alive, but,” his voice cracked and he clung to his brother, “I left ‘em. I left and I can’t go back.”

Before I Knew You Tag List: @believinghurts @frozenwisteria @maralisa124 @kyla-hale-blog @voiddylanobrosey @pearlsofme @minstens @sofriane @sheeple @hotleaf-juice @elnmop @sweetphantomofyournoodler @remuslupinscumslutt @thesecretwriter @cali-girl-in-heart @thxtmarvelchick @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @bitch-biblioklept @unstableyetloveable @psamathegoesrawr @camelliaflow3r @undeniablyyou @luciferismybabe @luvrsbian @pink-hufflepuff @queen-of-elves @bountydroid @solkee @m-rae23 @queenofbeingdepressed @smolmexicangirl @mae-foster @seb-buckybarnes @idga-fudgeicle @jessyballet

HP Tag List: @bamboozledflamplant @squishytomatoes @benonlinear @byelannie @pancakefancake

Reblog this if you would not only accept, but welcome fan art, moodboards, etc. of your fics

All of these used to be so common for people to show their appreciation of different fics and authors, and I think it’s a shame people don’t do it anymore. I love seeing fan work for my fics!!

Hey yall, I need some help. So hopefully in about 2 years I'll be able to get a puppy. My dad (who I still live with, sad I know) wants to wait because right now we're not ready for another dog. (We currently have a dog, the cat further down in my blog is my mom's cat, if it's still there) he also won't let me if our current dog isn't doing good at that time. But anyways I'm thinking about getting a chocolate lab puppy. I know for sure I'm getting a lab but I want to get a chocolate one. I've picked out some names already because I like doing that. I want some help thinking of more names. I tagged a bunch of Fandoms so hopefully I can get some nerdy names but I also want hilarious names!

Our current list: favorites of each category are in purple, eliminated are crossed

The "love" ones: Bucky (Marvel), Boone (Twisters), Coffee Beans or Beans (nickname(nn)), Butter, Captain Wigglebutt or Wiggles (nn), Meatball, Moose, Godzilla, Bandit, Bruno, Guinness, Diesel, Sparrow, Milo, Baloo (Jungle Book), Perceus or Percy/Perc (Percy Jackson), Winston (after a horse i used to ride), Balto (Balto), Bowser (Mario)

The "really liked" ones: Rocket (Marvel), Rooster (Top Gun), Jensen (the Actor), Potato, Brownie, Caesar, Scooter, Reuben or Roo, Cappuccino or Cap, Angus or Gus (Disney's Brave), Dakota or Kota, Hawk, Drogo (GOT)

The "liked" ones: Bruce (Harley Quinn), Tyler (Twisters), Raleigh (Pacific rim), Walter or Wally, Mudflap, Otis (Chicago Fire), Simon or Si (cod ig), Tango, Halo, Wedge, Equinox or Quin/Nox, Pluto (the planet)

The "not my favorite but they're good names" ones: Maverick (Top Gun), Logan (Xmen)

So please, message me, reblog this, comment what ever, tell me some good names whether they be Fandom related, just down right funny, or both. One thing, try to keep a little bit to the theme of him being a chocolate lab and a male. Like coffee beans because they're brown and I think Beans would be a hilarious names. If the name has a nickname please tell me that too. Thank you everyone!!!

So um apparently I've been living under a rock for the past couple weeks. One I didn't know the music video for temporary was out and two EMINEM IS GONNA BE A FREAKING GRANDPA. The music video made me cry, especially when em started crying, the card was everything. I loved the videos oh my goodness the girls were so cute when they were younger. And yall I cant describe to you how much this has affected me. This man means the world to me. He's been sober for almost as long as I've known and been listening to him. His music makes me super happy and sappy. Y'know he's older than my dad by like 1 or 2 years but he's still fine as wine. I know I know crazy eminem fan alert but how can I not. But back to the other stuff, I've been listening to eminem honestly since I had been born, my mom loved him and my sister loved him. I've loved him practically ever since honestly. But I only ever started appreciating him until this last year or so. I mean there's times we're I'm not in the mood and I've got a certain music taste I want to listen to. I've got a lot of styles all right? But I'll always come back to marshall. Because he's the one thing that's never let me down. And I'm so happy to see him having the best life he can because he's long past over due for a happy life. He deserves it so much. Now all there's left for me to do is to see him live in concert and then honestly I can die happy. But in truth I'll probably never live to see that dream come true. All that matters is that Em is happy and living the life he deserves especially as a new grandpa.