Don't Talk To Me I'm Thinking About Dog Statues Turned Golden By All The Hands That Pet Them

What?! You can’t not add the part where they do it to Sirius!! Please please please write that bit too! Plleeeaaassseeee

The Talk

Yes, this is happening. Now, I don’t know if any of this has been declared canon or if this has been done before but I could not get Pascal giving Logan “the talk” out of my head. So I wrote this. Because I’m obsessed with the cubs, Pascal, and sex-ed that explains safe, sane, and consensual sex.

Oh, and I’m also the same bitch who wrote Number 7 which was about James Potter in the Sweater Weather univers as well. Though that one was more angsty, oops.

These characters are @lumosinlove‘s creation and I’m forever grateful of her creating them and sharing them. Haz, I hope it’s okay I borrow them for a bit;)

You can read the original fanfic here: Sweater Wheather. As well as the sidefic of the cubs here: Coast to Coast

Also, let me know if anyone wanna see these on AO3? Because I could post them there as well but I don’t know if people are interested in that.

Anyway, here’s the story of Logan getting The Talk from Pascal. Enjoy!

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Logan quietly slipped inside and closed the door behind him before locking it. It was a little after nine and even though he knew Adele was technically supposed to be asleep by eight-thirty she was still most likely in her “light sleeping stage” and could be right back to hyper if she knew Logan was back home. So, to avoid Celeste’s tired murder eyes he tried being as quiet as possible as he slowly made his way towards his room.

He had asked the Uber driver to drop him off a good stretch before the house so he could run back home. He had skipped his morning run in favor of sleeping in together with Finn and Leo but had promised himself he would make up for it. It still felt worth it when he stepped out of the shower and he smiled stupidly at himself in the mirror remembering their soft smiles in the morning as he towel-dried his hair.

He was singing along to “Love on top” as he stepped into his bedroom with a towel around his waist, another still drying his hair absently. But as he lifted his head to find some clean underwear he jumped back in surprise.

 “Hello”

 On his bed sat Pascal, arms crossed and a way too untrustworthy smile on his lips. Logan quickly recovered.

 “Uhm, hi,” He said, glancing around awkwardly. “Did I wake Adele? I swear I was trying to be quiet. Should I-“

“No no, you’re good kiddo, don’t worry,” Pascal said but stayed quiet after that and proceeded to just stare at Logan who was still only in a towel.

Logan searched the floor for clean underwear, waiting for Pascal to say something. When he didn’t Logan spoke instead.

“Did you need something?” He asked, trying to remember if he forgot something that would make Pascal mad. “Or am I in trouble?” He side-eyes Pascal who grinned wider, still untrustworthy.

“Yes, and probably not,” Pascal said, pointing at the stack of clean laundry on the top of his dresser. “But I’m gonna be the judge of that.” He added and seemed to enjoy Logan’s confused reaction.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Logan said, slipping on the clean pair of underwear that laid on top of the clean laundry stack.

“Language,” Pascal said sternly, and Logan rolled his eyes because he knew Pascal cursed just as much as him. Logan was simply better at doing it when Celeste wasn’t around. “And you’ll find out,” Pascal then threw one of Leo’s t-shirts in his face (Logan slept in it, sue him) and patted the bed beside him. “Sit.”

Logan squinted his eyes skeptically at him as he pulled the shirt over his head and sat down beside Pascal.

Pascal turned his body towards him and cleared his throat. “I’m gonna be blunt about this, okay?” He rubbed his hands together and squared his shoulders just like he did before a game, just before they went out on the ice. “You’re gonna hate this but as you live under my roof, you’re my responsibility. And I take that seriously. Plus, Celeste says this might be good practice.” He grinned again and Logan suddenly wanted to scoot away from him.

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Domesticated baby. Like a child but I can bake.

me @ AO3

How many times Minerva McGonagall had listened to the distant footsteps echoing in the long hallways of the castle after the curfew, how many times she had failed to catch them, how many times she resisted giving them detention after lecturing them, how many hilarious pranks she had seen and faked her disappointment, how many times she had looked at the happy faces of the boys teasing each other at any given opportunity, how many times she had caught them out of beds in the middle of the night to see the glorious, never fading grins on their young faces, how many times she had whispered under her breath, smiling, “God, let them never get old.”

And they never did.

And after them, all the footsteps sounded like them, but not quite. In all the pranks she saw them, but not quite. In all the smug grins she recognised them, but not quite. Everything and everyone reminded her of them, but not quite. How many times she had walked through the empty corridors, searching for remaining traces of them. And they were always there, but only enough to awake the burning nostalgia. They were there, but not quite.

 Never again had she wished for someone not to get old.

A very potter musical: Voldemort Tap Dancing.

That’s it.

Good day.

Headcannon:

Oliver Wood refused to retire.

It was only when his eldest daughter played against him on her first ever professional game. She got past his keeping every goal and beat his team by 225 points. It was then that he proudly retired from playing...

...and became a coach.

I gotta say that James Potter is the living embodiment of Peter Rabbit.

Same being different universe 😂