#cormack mcleod

[textpost-trash]

Cormack: Merlin, you're a natural! Bet it's all that quidditch at boarding school, no doubt.

Sirius: Yeah, thirteen years' worth.

Cormack: Thirteen years?! What, did she ship you off in nursery? Gosh, must've been tough.

Sirius: No, I loved it. Made a lot of good friends. Family, almost, is what they were.

Cormack: Speaking of, how's your mother taking all this.

Sirius: Oh, please. I bet she doesn't even miss me.

[incorrectfwwquotes]

[incorrectfwwquotes]

Lizzie: Just go take a walk, alright? I know your size and I'm gonna pick out some really good stuff for you.

Cormack: Really?

Lizzie: Yes, and I know what looks sexy on guys. Please, just wear what I suggest and she's gonna go nuts for you.

Cormack: So, you're saying, uh... If I wear these pants, I might be getting into hers?

Lizzie: Why do men keep talking to me like this?

[incorrectfwwquotes]

Gwen: We got egged. Some of the shell got in my eyes, and my hair, and my mouth, and my bra.

Cormack: Can't tell if that's hot or not.

Gwen: Not hot. Egg shell in my bra is not hot.

Cormack: Well, it's kinda hot. Boobs go in a bra.

[incorrectfwwquotes]

Cormack: Does anyone have any cologne? Max?

Max: No, Dawn said I’m not allowed to wear cologne again until I prove I can be responsible with it.

[incorrectfwwquotes]

Cormack: Give me your hairdryer.

Lizzie: What? What are you talking about?

Cormack: Don’t you carry one in your purse?

Lizzie: Have you ever met a human woman?

[cassandrafawcett]

Each character: "I love you"

A dim light was peeking through blinds when she felt a small, wet swipe against her cheek, the texture not unlike sandpaper and eliciting a sleepy sigh from Cass as she blindly reached out to rush the palm of her hand over the top of Victoria’s head in a clumsy pat.

The cat purred softly, pawing and kneading at Cass’ shoulder, letting out a soft mew when Cass felt herself slowly slipping back into unconsciousness, quietly begging for attention and food at the start of the morning. After much persuasion, Cass rolled out of bed, Victoria at her heel and jumping onto the counter upon entering the kitchen, waiting with all the stately pride suited for a feline, watching carefully as her owner presented a neat plate of wet food before her.

The cat mewed once more, nudging her head against Cass’ elbow, before turning to her food to lap and chomp happily at her feast for the morning. Cass smiled, fingering the soft fur at Victoria’s tail.

"I love you, too."

Miranda

Miranda kept her chin high and her jaw locked as her mother wiped away invisible lint from her robes in disinterest and her father looked past her, most likely with something more important and more pressing on his mind than watching his second daughter go off to her first year of Hogwarts with any degree of sentimentality. She let her gaze flick to each of them, waiting for something to swell in her chest, waiting for something like sadness or even preemptive homesickness, but nothing came; her chest remained cold and tight with the increasing need to step off and away from the platform.

It was then that a shift of movement by her mother’s elbow caught her eye: a smaller boy with carefully brushed hair, each strand in place, stood with a scowl permanently etched onto his features, a small bruise beneath his eye a result from some small scuffle, no doubt. Something loosened in Miranda’s bearing, a warm tendril wormed its way around her ribs. Her parents began speaking to one another in low, cold tones, so Miranda took a step forward towards the boy, pulling his hand away from the collar of his shirt he was feverishly tugging at and told him to stop, for Salazar’s sake.

And before she could think much of it, and before he could push her away, she wrapped her arms around him quickly, tightly, and whispered into his ear: “I love you. Don’t be an idiot.” Then in a flurry of movement, she was rushed onto the train, the sharp whistle rattling her eardrums.

Cormack

A wave of cheers carried Cormack into the pub late that night, pure happiness and adrenaline pumping through his veins and cold, dark beer splashing down the front of his shirt and he clanked pints with each Magpie or familiar face he passed. This is what he had always wanted: the big win and the pride that came along with it, the knowledge and he did his bloody damn best to get where they were right now, sloshed and League Cup winners, leaving Puddlemere in the dust.

He stumbled his way to a table, jostling with each hand that clapped his back and barking out a laugh with each congratulations hollered his way. He clumsily stood upon a chair, wavering slightly for a moment and spilling a portion of his drink on a too-sloshed-to-care passerby, yelling for the attention of his teammates.

"I bloody love you, y’fuckin’ pricks!" He shouted, letting out one more loud cheer before swallowing the rest of his pint, his quick heartbeat in direct correspondence to how happy he felt.

Frank

It felt like ages before his wife’s cries came to a stop and the delicate cries of another to begin wavering through the cramped hospital room and for a brief moment, Frank couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone had taken his heart in their fist, squeezing tight and holding on, rooting him to this very spot; time stopped and there was just the wailing face of his child before him, small and red and perfect.

His eyes stung as he watched the Healer place the small bundle in Alice’s arms and nearly collapsed into the chair beside her bed, breaking his gaze away from the baby for a short moment to look at his wife, his eyes glued to her face.

"I love you,” he said fiercely, leaning in to give her a soft kiss, before he looked back at his son, a sharp laugh of disbelief escaping him as he counted his fingers and counted his toes; ten and ten, he thought. His mum will be happy to hear it.

He reached out, gently placing his hand over the small bundle.

"I love you,” he smiled. “Neville.”

[remooseloopins]