#literally had to put the book down and stare at a wall for a moment because i was blushing so heavily

[lokorum]

Hi, I have been following you for some time and just read you also have cats. Can we see them or can you tell us about them? I love seeing people's cats but can't have any since I'm allergic.

oh gosh, this is like the ultimate-nicest-ask any person could ever recieve and i still made you wait for the reply, im so so sorry!! classic case of unlucky timing happend - your ask came on the next day after one of our cats had to be put down through euthanasia. im only now feeling like talking about her, hope you'll understand <3

also warning: someone here is obsessed with their cats so prepare yourself for a lot of pictures!!!

so this is her, our obachan that was somewhere around 16-17 yo at the moment of her death (no one knows how old she was for sure, and we called her a necromant bc doctors predicted her death like 10 times and she lived and lived and lived. our friend said that everytime death came for her she just stared at it with her unblinking eyes, forcing it to leave lskdjflkdsjf)

near the end of her life she had no teeth, progressing cancer, brain tumor that caused epilepsia but she still was the god's smallest gremlin, (and the most adorable too) creating havoc everywhere she went

the other cat that we adopted is this little goofball

she literally found us on the street near our home back in ulan ude and just followed us there asking food. she was our neighboors cat, but they left her behind after moving, saying some bullshit like they coudnt catch her (while she was activelly asking to be held when she came to us. she was pregnant too, and very, very anxious)

she is the most shy cat i ever met; text book wall-flower, but now after almost 5 years together she is much more brave!! tho she still scared of blankets and towels for the reasons that makes want to return back to uu and violently kill her previous family

also can anyone tell me what is this

and heres our first cat and the only one we havent adopted from the street but from a different family!! she is the youngest and the cheekiest little seagle that loves to terrorize everyone and since she is very very cute - she gets away with it every time

she also is notoriously hard to catch in a photo, and when we finally able to - she is just chilling in the most bizzare places like in the freezer

on the toilet cistern

on the computer box

on the bysicle seat

inside the drawer inside the box

on the bench

inside the cat bag

i found one (1) picture of her in the bed and it looks like this

like almost anyone who has cat family member - i could talk about their little habbits for hours but i think what i already said is too much so im putting myself on the leash here lkjsdflkjasjd thank you so much for listen to my rumblings!!! i cant deny it feels kinda healing to talk about all of them now and that happened thanks to you @dabenport so sending you a lot of hugs!! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ also i have allergy on cats psldkf;sdkf;lkd;lf so i hope that maybe one day you'll be able to find less allergic cat friends to share your life with!!! im sneezing a lot but its worth it

[mellowthorn]

[twelve-forfend]

Luo Binghe's Actual Age

While I was grabbing screenshots, I came across this part and had to pause. Shen Qingqiu asks how old Luo Binghe is, and Binghe replies: “弟子虚岁14” （This disciple is the nominal age of 14).

The NOMINAL age of 14?

I ran to the book to check and, sure enough, nominal age is specified there, too.

I had to lean back and stare at the wall in front of my desk for a moment. Why does this matter? Well, it doesn't — not really. But it puts some things into perspective.

You see, when counting the nominal age of a person, that person turns one year old the very moment they are born. And usually on the Lunar New Year (though some elders today insist that it happens on the winter solstice, which is today by the way — 冬至快乐🥟 ), everyone ages up another year together.

From the book, we know that Luo Binghe was born on the coldest (though not necessarily longest) night of the year. He could be a one-day old two year old. Or two month old two year old, if we count it by LNY and not Solstice. Either way, this CHILD is (to the West's age-counting system) two years younger than he announces using the NOMINAL age system.

Luo Binghe is twelve (not fourteen) when he meets Shen Yuan as Shen Qingqiu.

Luo Binghe is fifteen (not seventeen) when he's stabbed and pushed down into literal Hell and finds out he can regrow entire limbs.

Luo Binghe is sixteen (not eighteen) when he subjugates the Northern Kingdom and Sha Hualing's holdings under his rule.

Luo Binghe is seventeen (not nineteen) when he arrives at Huan Hua Palace.

And when he meets Shen Qingqiu again in Jin Lan just before the disaster at Hua Yue, he's eighteen (phew), not twenty.

That puts him at 23 (not 25) at Maigu Ridge.

He's still an adult when everything goes down, but no wonder Binghe is so messed up. He was so young!

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part five❞

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Getting to know each other better doesn’t go according to plan. Bucky has to comfort you and fix the mess he made. Will you forgive him?

♡ Warnings: self hate, mentions of parent death/family death, panic attack, heavy angst, fluff, literally sobbing i love them

Part 6

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au

It was almost becoming a mantra, reminding himself daily that he needed to keep things strictly professional. He just didn’t realize how hard it would be. You were so easy to be around, it was a different change of pace with you, he felt he could actually think— slow his mind down around you.

He had tried to digest the thought many times.

I could be her friend, nothing more.

Would it be unprofessional though? He tries to think how Pierce would react to that. He feels completely and utterly confused— the devil and angel on his shoulders battling constantly.

Even then, he was already a bad friend— if that. He was keeping something from you— something extreme. He had caught himself thinking of where you could be in the house— the part of him deep down wanting to tell you. He knew he should, but he knew that’s not what Pierce wanted. If anything, Bucky didn’t want to mess anything up— or he’d never see you again. The thought shouldn’t of scared him as much as it did, but he didn’t like it.

That’s where he found himself in the bathroom of his room, staring into his own eyes through the reflection. He had showered and caught himself trying to find a nice shirt amongst his clothes— immediately he stopped. He had to take a moment to take a deep breath and remind himself how ridiculous he was being.

It had been so long since he actually cared about his appearance. But as he was scanning every line and wrinkle on his face in the mirror— he knew he was doomed. Suddenly he felt insecure, and for once it wasn’t about his arm. His mind was consumed with the thought if he was good enough. While he felt overwhelmed, because he had never worried about such a thing. Well, in awhile at least.

You had kept yourself busy in the library for most of the day, and while you looked to be buried into the books— your thoughts were of him. You couldn’t ignore the giddy feeling that his words gave you— his want to get to know you better. Maybe, just maybe— he wanted to be your friend.

Just as you were about to get up and leave to seek out Bucky, you heard the sound of the library doors opening. A smile worked its way onto your face, excited to see him— though you had just seen him not that long ago.

Heavy footsteps echoed through the space, and soon revealed a handsome looking Bucky. Your mouth hung slightly open, his appearance looking sharper than usual. He was wearing his classic black shirt, and had the black leather jacket over— along with his jeans that hugged him just right in all the areas. He wasn’t dressed all that different, so why did he look so good.

You cleared your throat and broke your stare— yes he looked good. But you shouldn’t stare.

“You look great James, I wish I would’ve put something better on.” You laughed nervously, looking down at your t-shirt and shorts— along with your different colored socks.

Bucky on the other hand, thought you looked fine. He was pretty sure you could wear pretty much anything and look good in it. He also shook off your compliment, thinking you were just being sweet like you always were.

“You look fine, (Y/n).” He assured you.

Truthfully, standing here in front of you now— Bucky wants nothing more than to go back upstairs, choosing to avoid getting to know you better. He wasn’t sure why his walls were coming down so easily, but he hated it. Oh he hated it— he hated you.

“So…” You started, walking back to your seat. Bucky followed after and took his spot from the nights before. “I know this kinda takes the fun out of this but— I had a list of questions.”

Bucky shook his head but chuckled lowly, not surprised at all.

“Of course you do.” He acknowledged, and you scratched the back of your neck nervously.

“Uh— but there are rules! I made them up of course— but there aren’t many.” You rushed out, sitting crisscrossed in your seat.

Bucky exhaled annoyed, but couldn’t really argue otherwise. This was his idea. Was it to distract you from going out? Yes. But a part of him really did want to get to know you better.

“Alright, what’s the rules?” He asked, crossing his leg over the other— leaning back in his seat.

“Okay the first one— you have to answer the question that’s asked, no matter what.” You told him, watching him raise his eyebrows.

“Easy.”

You giggled, remembering how fast the conversation ended last time because he didn’t want to answer. This would be harder than he thought— but you wouldn’t call him out on it.

“Second rule— Can’t ask dumb questions.” You told him, and he chuckled again.

“That’s the second rule?” He chuckled, and you nodded your head.

“Yup.” You confirmed, “Okay— who should go first?”

You were ready to jump right into it, while Bucky was still thinking about your rules— rethinking his decision to do this.

“Why don’t you start doll, since you apparently have a list.” He spoke sarcastically, and you couldn’t stop the heat from rising to your cheeks at the nickname.

He never called you that before, and you didn’t know what to think of it.

“Um… okay yeah,” You thought about your first question, deciding to go easy on him at first, “What’s something you like to do on your free time?”

Bucky squinted his eyes, expecting a more personal question from you. He also had to think for a second— what did he like to do? He used to have hobbies at one time, but he couldn’t recall any in the moment. He felt he was a pretty boring person. There was one thing.

“I like to read sometimes.” He answered, and you smiled at that.

“Really? You don’t seem to spend a lot of time in the library for someone who likes to read.” You joked— knowing he was rather busy with his job as a bodyguard.

“Well, if I had free time— I’d probably be here.” He pointed out, slowly melting into his seat, his muscles relaxing against the couch.

“Okay your turn.” You told him.

Bucky didn’t want to admit it, but he as well had a list of questions for you. Things he was dying to know about you.

“What do you want to do in the future?” He asked, and you looked at him with furrowed brows.

“Huh?”

“What’s your dream job— like, what do you want to do for the rest of your life? Besides read.” He added at the end, making you giggle.

You thought about your answer for a moment, smiling to yourself when you came up with one.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever stay in one spot, there’s so much I want to do. But whatever happens, I wanna volunteer places. I want to help people— help them heal, cope. I just wanna do good.” You explained happily.

Bucky was not surprised by your answer by the slightest— of course you wanted to be helpful. It only made sense with your bubbly personality. He cleared his throat, fighting down a smile.

“Your turn again.”

You nodded and took a second to think of a question again, closing your eyes in thought. An idea popped into your head and you were hesitant about it. Last time you’d brought it up— he left.

“What’s your family like?” You asked anyway, keeping your voice soft in hopes he’d feel more comfortable.

Bucky tensed immediately and just glared at you for a second. His jaw clenched, and his eyes squinted at you. He was annoyed at you pestering him with this question— he’d answer every single one but this one. He’d play dirty if you were.

“My family… isn’t around anymore.” He answered quietly, his anger lacing his words.

His tone had you swallowing nervously, and deep down you regretted asking him. You didn’t mean any harm by the question, and you immediately felt bad. Your heart hurt for him, the way he didn’t have a family.

“I— James I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t o—”

You tried to apologize but got cut off.

“My turn.” He interrupted, sitting up in his seat now. His whole body tense again, his relaxed muscles no more. “Why does your Father hate you?”

He couldn’t stop himself from letting the words out, but as soon as they passed his lips— he was ashamed of himself. His face softened immediately at your face dropping, the way your fingers started to fiddle anxiously with the hem of your shirt.

You were shocked— at a loss for words. You probably deserved his anger, but you weren’t expecting such a harsh question. You felt your chest tighten, and suddenly you weren’t in denial anymore. Everything you’d ever thought— the nights you wondered if your Father really did hate you. You pushed away with a laugh, knowing he could never. But now as someone else witnessed it, and pointed it out. It ought to be true— and you felt sick.

“Um… He’s just having a h-hard time with the passing of my…” You tried to take a deep breath, feeling your throat tighter than usual. “Hard time with my mothers passing is all.”

You repeated from the first day meeting him. Your head pounded— your ears thumping loudly. Your fingers were numb and you felt like you couldn’t swallow.

Were you having an allergic reaction to something?

You tried to take another deep breath and felt your chest stop expanding. Your eyes widened in panic for a second.

Bucky felt so shitty— he couldn’t control himself for a simple question. The fact that you had answered it anyway broke his heart. He watched as your eyes darted around, in search of help. The way he could start to hear your breathing— the way you were beginning to wheeze.

“(Y/n), you ok—”

“Excuse m-me for a s-second.” You rushed out, stumbling out of your chair and towards the library doors.

Bucky was concerned for you, standing up immediately to go follow you. He was so ashamed of himself, angry that he let himself lose control like that. He had sensitive topics that just brought up a defensive side in him. The image of your face as soon as he had said the words was burned into his brain. You didn’t deserve that— you had been nothing be sweet since you two had met.

Making it up the stairs, he started down the hallway— body tensing in alert at the sight of you sitting up against the hallway wall. He rushed forward, kneeling down to your curled up form, scanning over you for injuries.

“(Y/n), what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He asked frantic, he noticed your hand clutching the area above your heart.

You shook your head, but seemed confused— and only panicked more when you couldn’t get the words out right away.

“I c-can’t breathe!” You wheezed out, your hand not clutching your chest— reaching out to grab onto Bucky.

You held onto him like he was your lifeline.

“I-I think I’m having a-an allergic reaction.” You panted, fisting Bucky’s sleeve in panic.

Bucky didn’t know it was possible for his heart to break anymore— but he swore he heard the cracking sound. He felt it drop to his stomach, his own throat tightening with emotions. You were having a panic attack— and it was because of him. You had no idea, and yet here you were still clinging onto him when he was the cause of it all. He was disgusted with himself.

“(Y/n)— you’re not having an allergic reaction. You’re having a panic attack.” He explained to you clearly, holding onto your shoulders, trying to bring you comfort.

You nodded in understanding, feeling lightheaded from lack of oxygen to the brain. Tears began to escape your eyes, you felt helpless— you felt like you were dying.

“James…” You whimpered, “I’m s-scared!”

Again, he felt his non existent heart break again— falling into his stomach. He felt sick watching this go down, wanting nothing more than for this all to be a nightmare.

He had experience with panic attacks and luckily knew what to do— he just couldn’t get over the fact that he caused it.

He grabbed your hand fisting his sleeve and put it above his heart. You lifted your flushed face, your bloodshot eyes watching your hand. You could feel the strong thump of his heartbeat, the feeling soothing against your palm.

“I want you to try and breathe with me, okay? I want you to match my heartbeat. You feel it?” He asked you softly, his voice gentle like honey.

You nodded your head, trying to focus on slowing your breathing— stop your chaotic mind from spiraling.

“In… and out— In… and out.” He started breathing, and you struggled to match him at first, but as your eyes met with his— you felt your heartbeat start to match his rhythm.

His eyes were comforting and warm. You felt safe in his hold— and you could already start to feel your everything relaxing.

“Good, just keep breathing with me. I’ve got you— you’re gonna be okay.” He assured you, rubbing your shoulders up and down soothingly.

You knew you’d be risking it, but you slowly moved forward— wrapping your arms around his bulky frame.

Bucky tensed up at first, a part of him knowing he should push you away— this wasn’t professional. But he knew he couldn’t— not after what he did. He relaxed, and wrapped his arms hesitantly around your back, hugging you tight against him. He could feel your quick heartbeat thumping competitively against his. He could feel your breath fanning his neck— as you rested your chin in the crook of his neck.

He hadn’t felt such affection in so long— he had missed how much he craved the protection— the security he felt being in someone’s arms.

Now, in Bucky’s hold— you felt at peace. You knew he’d never let anything happen to you. You still trusted him with your life.

“Doll,” You smiled weakly into his neck, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t of asked you that— I’m an asshole.”

You held onto him tighter— enjoying the embrace while you had it. You were sure it would never happen again.

“It’s okay James, I’m sorry too.” You weakly replied, your body drained of energy. “Thank you, I feel a lot better now.”

He wanted to scoff. You wanted to thank him for helping you out of a mess that he caused. You had the right to scream, punch, kick him. But he knew you’d never do that— and that’s what killed him.

He didn’t know how to respond to your thanks, and stayed silent instead. Holding onto you— never intending to let go until you did first.

“I’m tired James.” You mumbled sleepily.

“I’ve got you doll.” He whispered, easily standing with you in his arms.

He slowly and carefully carried you to your room, setting you down gently onto your bed. He was having déjà vu— memories of when he first carried you to bed that one night.

He lifted the covers, tucking you in. He watched you for a second, examining your face like you were a piece of art. His eyes danced all the way from your chin— passed your lips— to your eyes. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair out of your face. You sighed and leaned into his touch, and this time— he didn’t fight the smile down. He gazed down at you warmly, genuinely smiling for the first time in awhile.

“Stay with me.” You mumbled sleepily, just as you had wanted to that one night.

Bucky took a deep breath, staring down at you with sudden tenderness. He shook his head, ridding his mind of the thought.

“Okay.” He told you, watching you give a small smile in your sleep. Snuggling your face into the pillow.

Although both of you didn’t really get to scratch off every question of each others list— you both felt more connected after today. You just wanted someone, someone constant in your life. Bucky needed more light in his life— like you.

You both needed each other more than you realized.

🤍 taglist is officially closed for this series 🤍

TAGLIST: @winters1917 @unaxv @sebastianstansqueen @casa-boiardi @sonatabee @nytzirhk @almosttoopizza @erinallene @daddy-dotcom @h0nestly-though @beautiful-loserr @gloriouspurpose01 @lesleurs @justherefortheficandsmut @floralwsloki @dottirose @madi-be-buggin @navs-bhat @happinessinthebeing @ximi1315 @buggy14 @dancer3205 @neeezza101 @rovckwells @loki-is-loved @yujyujj @wolfstarrrr @distinguishedbluebirdtriumph @tatianah26 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @lethallyprotected @sadboiabby @ziatracy @doveromanoff @whattheduckisupkyle @buckysgirl85 @etherealdisneyvillainness @doctorlilo @torntaltos @raging-panda @livingoffsavvyillusions @lmao-liz @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @toriluvsfics

@baconeggndcheez @nialiuwanderlust @nabiiturner @nickangel13 @queerqueenlynn @memyselfandi19 @mentalidrainedfangirl @wattpaduser200 @obsessedbutnotblessed @iris-shihabi @thecubanator2 @chloe-skywalker @oatballsoffury @bbiaa420 @vanillascreams @athenabarnes @the-universe-is-complicated @marvel-fandom23 @ilovecliches @frankcastlesbabe @aizawa-emma @shamelesssuitshark @buckyb-stan @pampeop @bruher @reading-n-writin @lenavonschweetz @khypods @himikotoga101 @stefansring @iateall-yourcookies @giftedyoungster3000 @itsmytimetoodream @im-a-marvel-ous-hoe @wintermischief @companionjones @meetmeatyourworst @sebstanwhore @xforeveralonerxx @marziwritesfic @hidden-treasures21 @avenirectioner

@hvnnibvni @chipilerendi @buckylovu @clean-and-claire @broadwaybabe18 @billy-reads @natashassandwich @potatothots @char112244 @totallynotnotsukie @theconstantsidekick @unkownkii @missaprilt23 @dreamcatchernightsky @globetrotter28 @ilovewriting06 @leabunny @samsgirl93

[piinkpraise]

corrupted...🧨

a/n: this started off as a request but as I was finding pictures it slowly transformed into another idea but same concept.

and thank you for 100 followers!!! ik it doesn't seem like much but like this is the fastest i've ever gained followers with writing and i love all of you literally sooo much for reading my low key awful writing 😭.

warnings: sapphic, reader was originally straight, 'innocent'!reader, horndog!ellie, pervy(kinda)!ellie, nerdy!reader, corruption kink, thigh riding, smoking, swearing, mommy issues, praise, degrading.

the depths of the expanse pink room were soaked in yellow lighting that seeped through the opened windows to let in the scorching heat from outside into the cool house.

frilly pillows and stuffed animals littered the queen sized bed that you sat on the edge of, skirt splayed out behind you.

that familiar yet abhorrent smell lingered through the emaciated walls. it was atrocious really, but you have grown accustomed to it the slightest.

"don't fuckin' smoke, gonna ruin you're lungs or esophagus or whatever it is" ellie waved the joint around before squinting and exhaling out your window.

"you're lungs." you say, resting the book you were reading in your lap for just a moment. "your esophagus is the part that sends food to your belly" you say quietly, picking your book back up.

she wears a supercilious grin on her pretty face. "see, that's why you can't smoke. smoking is for losers, you're not even close to one. gonna go to harvard with that brain" she smiles, ruffling your hair, moving around before sitting behind you on the bed, the springs crying out.

the joint fell from her lips slowly hitting the oak floorboards. "dammit" she cursed as it fell in front of your covered feet, clad in heart socks.

"i'll get it" you say, finishing the paragraph in your book. she nods and looks around before speaking. "how's that boyfriend of yours?" you blink and place your book down. "he's fine" you shrug before leaning forward.

your torso hung over the edge of the bed, hips resting on the bed still as you struggled to get the joint. your skirt had flipped, the behind of your skirt laying on your back.

ellie had to hold back a moan at what she saw. your bare glistening cunt and full ass, all on display. she felt the ache dwell between her plush thighs that squeezed together. she bit her bottom lip. fuck ellie, look away, the girl probably doesn't even know was sex is. ellie mentally slapped herself, trying to pry her eyes away from the godly sight but miserably failing.

sex gushed in her brain, swirling around it like it was the only thing she'd think of for the rest of her life. you were so incredibly perfect as her thoughts swarmed of everything she could do to that pretty pussy.

ellie moaned as you struggled to grab her joint that you pushed under the bed now. you turn your head back once you hear a moan from ellie.

"you okay els?" you ask sweetly.

"you're a fuckin' tease" she mumbled, grabbing your hips and making your straddle her lap.

"ellie?" you ask her, staring at her with wide eyes.

"did this little ditz forget to put on her panties today?" ellie questioned, tilting your head to look at her, locked in her gaze.

"yes.." you mutter, trying to do anything to not look at her piercing eyes.

"hm..or did you forget them for...me?" she whispered. "i-i have a boyfriend els.."

ellie bursts out in laughter at your words. it's funny that you used your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend to try and cover up your truth. "you don't even like him, don't lie to me" ellie says to you. "bad girls get punished, and i don't think your a bad girl, right?"

"no" you shake your head. "i'm a good girl" you say quietly. "a good girl just for mommy, right?" ellie says in a breathy voice.

you feel blood rush from your mind right to your pulsing cunt. "yes mommy" you nod.

"see, such a good girl" ellie praises.

you recall the night, the same feeling between your thighs, and all because of ellie. you humped your frilly pillows endlessly, fell to a pink suction vibrator that annihilated your swollen clit, eased a massive pink dildo in and out of your tight walls with sweat dripping down your head. all done while moaning ellie's name, your vibrator was her mouth and tongue, your pillow was her thigh or perhaps her own pussy, the dildo was her huge strap or fingers, and you finished so good each time.

you don't realize that you're subconsciously rolling your hips back and forth on her thigh, coating her plush thighs with your wet creamy slick. "take what you need..." she whispers.

you squint your eyes and glide up and down her thigh like skates on ice. the sweet pearl between your legs caught deliciously on ellie's skin.

whimpers, whine, and moans released from your lips, it almost felt too good. it was certainly better than the time you humped your pillow, trying to find the perfect angel that pleased you, doing more repositioning than grinding.

"look at that, my pretty slut all worked up for me, isn't she?" ellie murmurs, hands fiddling with the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head to see your perky full breasts that bounced with each slide of your hips. "pretty fuckin' tits, all mine too" ellie said, attaching her mouth to your pebbled nipple and swirling her tongue around it.

"ohmygod els- feels s'good" you whine as her hands grab your hips and thrust you down hard onto her thigh. your clit was so sensitive, your weakest point in your body from all the times (multiple times a week) that you vibrated your aching bud just to feel the numbness flow through your body while you thrust your dildo in and out of you.

"bet it does...bet you coulda never gotten this from your small dicked boyfriend" she mutters.

ellie soaked in, mentally recorded your actions, the way your tits bounced harder each time you collided your clit with her thigh. the way she could feel your wetness dripping down her thigh and down her leg.

"mommy it-it feels so good" you whine.

"yeah? you gonna cum all over my thigh like a good whore?" she teases, her grip on your hips tightening.

"mhmmm" you hum out.

you're too fucked out to even talk, hands on her shoulders as you felt yourself brush closer and closer. suddenly, a waterfall washed over you, wiping you free of any negativity as it sent you into a pure pleasure shock as you came undone on her thigh.

"fuuckk ohmygod ellie-ellie-ellie- oh my-" you chanted, your mouth opened agape and your eyes squinted shut as you bucked your hips up.

she chuckled and praised you through all of it until you came back to earth.

"you're not done...i've seen those toys under your bed..."

a/n: i fear i ate with this chapter. tell me your opinions, my luvs <333. -elayna 💐

[denaliwrites]

His Love is All in Me

Aziraphale x GN!Reader x Crowley

Summary: It's not every day you compete with a demon for the affections of an angel.

Soundtrack: The Boy is Mine by Brandy & Monica

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Jealousy. Unrequited Love. Choking. Crowley is a Dick.

Upon further reflection, maybe Crowley had been right to call you an interloper. Sure, you hadn't meant to intrude on the good thing he had with his angel that fateful, rainy evening in December when you'd first wandered into Aziraphale's shop. You also hadn't meant to steal the angel's attention. Hadn't meant to keep going back day after day. Hadn't meant to get attached.

But now here you were, deeply seated not just in a plush armchair in the angel's bookshop several months later, but also in the angel's life.

Which meant, for better or for worse, you were deeply seated in Crowley's life as well.

And he hated you.

He made it impossibly clear any time the two of you were alone, and though he pumped the brakes a little when Aziraphale was around, he didn't do much to hide it then either. You tried not to let it show, both for Aziraphale's peace of mind and so that Crowley wouldn't get the satisfaction of knowing he'd upset you... but it did weigh on you.

But no matter how much weight you can hold, eventually there's a point where it's too much and some (or all) of it goes tipping over.

Aziraphale was leaving for the weekend.

He said something about having to travel to the States to get a book he'd been after for years, darling. You were on board until he put you in charge of the shop. That would be... stressful. But manageable. And then Crowley walked in, and Aziraphale lit up, and told him that he was in charge too.

The glare Crowley sent you the moment the angel turned away made you want to wither and die.

Before he left, Aziraphale handed you a tray of freshly baked treats -- ones he knew you loved, your most favorite treats that you'd probably kill for.

"To remember me by," he said before leaving.

Once alone in the shop with Crowley, you threw him a wary glance. You wanted to say something -- anything -- but nothing came to mind. Nervously, you set the tray down on the table beside your usual chair before dipping behind the counter to grab the book you'd been reading.

You heard a snap, and when you looked back over, the tray of treats was on fire.

"Crowley!" you yelped, barely managing to set the book down before frantically looking for a fire extinguisher. There wasn't one -- somewhere in the logical part of your brain, you figured it was because the angel could just miracle a fire away. But that didn't help you, a mortal, right now.

"C-Crowley," you whimpered as you finally came to a halt, simply staring at the fire in defeat.

You looked up at the sound of another snap. You could see out of your peripheral that the fire was gone, but your main focus was on Crowley's infuriatingly smug expression.

It pained you to look away, but you forcefully pulled your expression off of him to look at the tray -- the fire had burned every single treat into inedible embers.

As you looked, some sound that vaguely resembled a laugh came out of Crowley, and you whipped around to glare at him.

"What is your FUCKING problem?!" you growled, storming up to him.

He easily could've overpowered you, killed you, done literally anything, but he let you slam him up into the nearest wall, let you press your arm to his throat. Not that he needed to breathe, but it was satisfying all the same.

"Ever since that first day you have had it out for me! I've been nothing but nice, and helpful, and accommodating to your stupid mood swings! What the fuck else can you possibly want from me, you fucking asshole!?"

"I want you gone," he replied simply.

Oh. On further reflection, you should've seen that coming.

"The angel doesn't love you. He can't. You're but a fleeting little infatuation -- a pet. The moment you start withering, start showing your cursed humanity, he'll lose interest."

"Why do you even care?" you asked exasperatedly. "You've had six thousand years with him and you'll have six thousand more, infinite times over. Why do you care if he's distracted for a few years out of eternity?"

"Because he's mine!" Crowley hissed. "He's my friend. My Angel."

"This whole fucking time," you said with a sigh. "This whole time I thought you hated me for a real reason -- but you were just jealous? This whole time, you only hated me because you can't stand the idea of Aziraphale liking anyone else."

Suddenly, the tables were flipped and you were the one pressed to the wall. Unlike Crowley, though, you did need air to breathe, and his hand was nearly crushing your throat.

"C-Crowley--" you wheezed desperately, but his hold didn't let up.

"Listen to me, you insolent little speck of insignificant cosmic shit," Crowley hissed above you, "I don't care about the angel's pointless dalliances with mortals. We blink and you're dead and it's like no time has passed at all."

You were getting lightheaded, delirious.

"What I care about is you humans stupidly worming your way into his heart, only for you to inevitably die and break it."

Just as suddenly as it was there, the pressure on your windpipe was gone, and your body collapsed and instinctively dragged in desperate gasping breaths.

Crowley watched you disdainfully as you sucked in breath after breath, until eventually you evened out.

"Th..." you tried to speak, but every few breaths one still came out as a gasp.

Crowley knelt before you, looking you over. His hand neared your face and you jerked away, yet he persisted. You were surprised when the touch that landed on your chin was gentle. Limply, you let him tilt your chin up, giving him a view of your neck. A couple soft clicks of his tongue and a snap later, and your throat and lungs no longer burned.

"Wh-what did you--"

"I don't want you dead," he said with a sigh. "In fact, I'd much prefer you live a good, long life. Just... somewhere away from Aziraphale. And me."

You blinked up at him, before you let out a pained, wheezing laugh. "Y-you want me to live a 'good, long life'? You hate me!"

"You humans," he groused, looking around like some form of help might magically appear before him. "You're so -- smallminded. You don't get it."

"Get what?" you asked, voice suddenly weak. He looked genuinely worried, and that surprised you.

"You think that love and hate are mutually exclusive. Even when you love and hate something! Like -- like you. You love and hate romance novels. I've seen it! You love and hate them, and yet you cannot fathom the idea that I could love and hate humanity -- love and hate you."

"Sorry," you wheezed, "you love me?"

"Well -- hgk."

You laughed at the sound he made in the back of his throat, and yet again he surprised you. His lips actually pulled up, just a little, in response.

"Yeah, I do. In the way I love every other human," he said after a moment. "But I love you because Aziraphale does, too."

"Yet you want me gone?"

"Because I hate seeing his heart get broken."

"Some things are worth getting your heart broken for, Crowley."

His stunned blinks told you he'd never considered that.

"I know I'm not going to live forever. I know you two will outlive me by eternity. I'll spend the rest of my life with you, and for you, it'll be a second on the cosmic clock. Less, probably."

His eyes met yours, thoughtful, sad, considering.

"Don't you think it breaks my heart too, knowing I'll only get so much time with you before I'm gone? That I'll have to leave him behind, and he'll have to deal with that pain?"

"Then why stay?"

"Because I love him, and people do stupid things for love. Sometimes they do selfish things for it, too. And sometimes, the people involved are perfectly capable of making their own decisions and have considered the outcome and think that the pain they'll experience is worth it."

He looks away in shame, then.

"Aziraphale's not an idiot," you say, reaching out a hand to tilt Crowley's face towards you. "If he didn't want to feel that loss, he wouldn't keep getting attached to humans. But he sees something in us worth going through that pain for. Maybe instead of treating him like an infant who can't understand the consequences of his decisions, you should respect that -- like it or not -- he has his own reasons for doing things and he's more than capable of choosing to do them."

"I can see why he likes you, now," Crowley said softly, and you blinked. "You... hgk. He's fallen for many humans, but you may be the best of them."

Coming from him, that surprised you, but it also warmed your heart. "Oh, he does love me back?" you asked with a laugh.

"Oh, yes," Crowley sighed dramatically. "Didn't understand why before but... now I do."

"And what about us?" you asked.

The sound that came out of that demon's mouth was -- well, it was something. Something that made you cackle.

"Us?" he finally managed, baffled.

"Yeah. Like. Are we okay? Are we cool? No more hating and trying to chase me off and stuff? Can we be civil?"

"Oh," he said, but you saw the moment the realization actually sank in. "Oh! Yes, yeah, we're fine. You're... you're good."

This made you smile. Without warning, you grabbed the demon and pulled him into a hug. "Maybe we can even be friends," you said, delighting in the way his body stiffened against yours.

"Oh, no, no -- I don't -- I don't do that -- that's the angel's thing --"

Despite Crowley's best attempts at insisting that he didn't befriend Aziraphale's "pets" and that he'd much rather stay as far from you as possible, when Aziraphale returned home at the end of the weekend he found the two of you in one of the armchairs -- Crowley's favorite, in fact. You were asleep with a book hanging limply and precariously from your hand. Crowley was... well, it was hard to tell, with his glasses on, but he had his body sprawled across yours, one leg thrown over the back of the chair and one laid over your lap in what Aziraphale would dare say was a protective gesture. He smiled, miracling a blanket over the two of you before he went about settling back into his home routine.

[adiluv]

✦ : ❝ 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 ꒰𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞꒱ !

꒰synopsis—wc꒱ in which your bed is taken and you try to get your roommate to share; 872 words.

꒰warnings꒱ akademiya roommate wanderer, lumine as traveler, reader is not traveler/is from sumeru, barely edited.

꒰adi moment꒱ i cannot stop being haunted by ideas right before i'm about to go to sleep, please send help!! also, doing a bit more experimenting with the titles, so let me know what y'all think! super short drabble, but hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀི*ˊ ᵕ ˋ꒱ྀི১

"Need I remind you," comes the chiding of an ever familiar voice, staring you down with dull eyes. "You were the one that oh, so 'graciously' insisted upon giving up your room to the Traveler." A reminder, the Wanderer you've come to call your roommate poking you in the shoulder as those words leave his lips.

He's unimpressed, that much is clear, gaze focused upon the pillow held beneath the crook of your arm. The spare blanket tugged over your body sags, sliding off one of your shoulders, as if cowering away from the figure in front of you. Contrary to his usual tone, there's no sense of mockery inside of his voice, and he looks fully ready to close the door in your face as resign you to your fate.

In fact, he even attempts to do so, only stopping when you quickly jab your foot in the door—despite known fully well that he possesses the strength necessary to simply crush your foot and end the conversation. He doesn't, of course, because you had threatened to tell Lesser Lord Kusanali in retaliation, instead choosing to shoot you a deadpanned glare as you're given another chance to make your case.

You flash an innocent smile. He rolls his eyes, and yours crinkle.

"Well..." You muse, humming as you grip the doorknob and attempt to push further into the space. A gust of wind that would have no natural place being inside of the dorm gently pushes you back, the Vision hanging on his chest providing further confirmation of his manipulation. "The couch is uncomfortable. And cramped. I couldn't possibly have a good rest there."

"I don't see what that has to do with me." And, perhaps the low light is simply playing tricks on your eyes, but you can almost see the ghost of a smile pulling up at the corner of the Wanderer's lips, a barely noticeable glint in his eye as you pout at your misfortune.

"You do realize that she's a hero, right? One that's—quite literally—saved several nations within Teyvat? Including Sumeru? Aren't you Vahumana scholars supposed to care about that?" You decide to ignore the convenient fact that she turned up on the Wanderer's doorstep, acting like old acquaintances, because he'd refused to answer any of your questions on that matter and you were certain that he actually would slam the door on your foot if you decided to bring it up.

Considering the fact that he works beneath the Dendro Archon herself, though, perhaps you should've just come to expect all sorts of mysterious circumstances following him around.

"And yet, a hero of legend couldn't even bring herself to book a hotel room. How kind of you, to be providing such charity to the needy."

Your lips thin as he snickers at the situation, shoulders slumping as you look away. At this point, you wouldn't have been shocked if both the traveler and her companion—Paimon, was it?—had heard your discussion, spoken in hardly hushed whispers with walls thinner than the paper you wrote your reports on.

How they could put up with the man's attitude was still something that eluded you, though you supposed you'd have to ask yourself that question, too.

Whatever. At least you weren't the one being uncourteous.

"Just shut up and let me in already."

Finally, the door swings open, allowing you a direct line of sight into his bedroom. Neat, and sparsely decorated, to the point where one might've assumed it uninhabited at first glance. The ever growing stack of papers and doll sitting directly in front of his pillow were the only real indications of his presence, the only things that convinced you he was real after all.

That, and the insolent personality of his that had absolutely no business staying stuck in your mind all the time.

"Just make sure that you stay on your side of the bed." He mumbles, sharp edge prevailing despite the low volume. You quickly scurry in, closing the door behind you before he has the opportunity to change his mind.

Turns out that you didn't actually follow his orders, if the photos that Paimon snapped of the both of you sleeping together—bodies curled around each other to the point where it was near impossible to decipher who was holding who—were any sort of evidence.

She proudly bragged about them, slamming them on the table with a smug expression as she teased the red-faced 'Hat Guy' sitting right in front of her. Whether or not he was upset or embarrassed, you remained clueless about, though the near white-knuckled grip he held on his butterknife seemed to promise answers. Based on the awkward look on the traveler's face, cold-blooded murder seemed the most likely possibility.

Against your own nosy nature, the role of an innocent bystander seemed far more appealing. At least, with the cup of warm chai in your hands, you could pass off your blush as a reaction to the beverage's heat.

On the bright side, considering the softened look within your dearest roommate's eyes when you'd awoken—before the traveler's companion had burst in asking for breakfast… he might just allow you back into his room the next time your find your bed unavailable.

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

[koiimii]

𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐭 | 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

“𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝘼𝙡𝙚𝙭 𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙠, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙞𝙨𝙣’𝙩 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚.”

—————

You had been sat up against the headboard of your large, lonely bed for awhile now, book in hand and cozied up under the wooly blanket you hadn’t let out of your sight since Autumn began, Alex’s knit coffee sweater dropping off your shoulders.

The air was crisp outside. You could see that much from the window of you and Alex’s shared studio apartment. Orange, gold, and crimson painted the streets and the trees. The passing rain had added a glossy sheen to everything it touched and freckled your windows too.

People had began to put out pumpkins and creepy decorations. Just the other day, Alex brought home a bag full of ghost cookies when picking up you and his takeaway dinner.

You both loved Autumn.

Alex especially… Speaking of which, he should be home any minute. You set your book aside and glanced up at the clock hanging off your wall, pushing up your reading glasses gently on your nose bridge.

You planned on spending as much time with him as possible before he closed himself up in his home studio and fell asleep there as well. For the past week, you knew something was the matter with Alex. He was avoidant, quiet, cold, and sometimes a bit harsh…

He caught himself, and was always apologetic, but was closed up again just as quick. He had grown quite distant and you just wanted to know why. You sat up a little straighter when you heard the front door click and soon close shortly after.

“Al? Are you home…?” You inquired, starting to pull yourself reluctantly from your bed’s warmth.

His booted feet could be heard shuffling around the house, the jingle of his keys, his scattered mumbling. The footsteps picked up again and began to near the bedroom door then finally, it pushed open to reveal him.

He looked awful.

You hadn’t gotten a good look at him in the past week. He’d fall asleep in the studio, leave early morning… Now that you could properly look at him, your heart ached.

His usually vibrant puppy-like gaze was low, hooded and dusted with dark circles of exhaustion. His cheeks and nose were flushed from the cold and his hair that was now beginning to curl over his ears and into his eyes was fluffed and clearly raked through with fidgeting fingers.

His lips parted and he shifted from foot to foot and pushed off his boots. His body was tense, very much so. You could see the resistance as he tugged off his coat, and your suspicions of that cursed futon being utterly uncomfortable were confirmed.

His jeans were slightly damp, before he undid his belt and tugged them off. You hadn’t realized you had literally been staring at him, and decided you should probably greet your lover.

You crawled down to the edge of your bed and sat on your knees, opening your arms as he finally undressed down to his boxers.

“Hi, darling…~” you smiled, a nervous smile.

You sighed once you got no response. His back was to you as he grabbed some plaid pajama pants and slipped them on, jumping slightly to get them over his bum. You chewed you’re bottom lip and looked to side in search of a second attempt... You didn’t know how to talk to him like this!

“How was the recording sess—?”

Just as the words left your lips, Alex whipped around, grabbing your face and capturing your lips in a slow, heated kiss. His eyes were squeezed shut, and you quickly returned it with a shaky whine, your hands gripping his wrists for him to ease up.

Once he did, he gripped your hips with a firm steadiness, and lifted you up, pushing you back towards the top of the bed and flipping the two of you so you were now straddling him. You let him have his moment to get entirely comfortable, adjusting and nuzzling where he saw fit.

It was closeness he craved. That was apparent when he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you so close your back arched against his chest.

“Al…” you cooed, letting your fingers creep up his bare arms and brush his shoulders. Then your fingers slipped into his hair, soft and fluffy.

His whole body was tight. So tense, like rocks had been embedded under his skin. You sighed and shifted when he only squeezed you tighter, his nose burying deeper into the soft skin of your neck to breath you in.

“Alex, talk to me.”

You pulled at the hairs near the nape of his neck to make him look up at you, a small grunt of displeasure sounded in his throat at the loss of contact. You stared into his eyes and he stared back.

They were glossy, like he had been crying, or on the verge of doing so.

“What’s been going on, love… you’ve been so distant. We hardly ever see each other and…”

As you went on, Alex’s grip loosened on you enough for him to lean back and see your face fully in view. He felt terrible. He knew you noticed, but he never knew how to properly talk about himself. His issues… he loved you more than anything, and he wanted to appear perfect to you.

“I— It’s nothing.”

“Alex. I’m here… you have to talk to me. We’re together… and I can’t keep wondering what’s going on with you while you treat me like I’m invisible. It isn’t fair. I love you… nothing you’re going through is too big for me. They’re my problems too…”

He knew you were right. How selfish could he be, to stay bottled up with the person he dreamed of marrying. To wander their shared space like a ghost and leave you to question everything...

“I’ve— I- I’ve just been thinking… I’ll have to get used to not having the last word y’know..”

“What do you mean…?”

“People aren’t happy with me, (Y/n)…”

You knew where this was going and you frowned. You knew it. Alex always brushed off those articles and podcasts… said they didn’t bother him. But you always knew they only piled up in the back of his mind until they spilled over.

You nodded slowly and continued to stroke his hair, his forehead pressing against your chest as he closed his eyes.

“First it was my music, then my voice, then my clothes… First they couldn’t understand me, then I tried to make it easier, more…like them, then I was a wanna-be… I’m— I don’t know what anyone wants from me anymore… and I don’t want to let anyone down.”

You felt your stomach sink.

You hated that he put so much weight on himself for others. Strangers, complete trolls behind screens made him doubt himself so much… so much talent and he picked it apart for them. It burned you up inside.

“You’re absolutely fucking perfect, Alex.”

You cupped his face in your hands and saw his tired eyes blink up at you. You wanted to kiss those delicate lashes, and so you did. The faintest of smiles appeared on his lips then as you kissed his nose too.

“You’re talented…”

Then you kissed his cheeks…

“You’re caring…”

Then his forehead. He loved your forehead kisses.

“You’re amazing. You will never be able to please everyone, Al. Especially someone who is displeased with themselves from the start… but you have so many people in your corner. You have me…”

He stared up at you, clenching his jaw and releasing it again with a tight-lipped half smile, his eyes remaining empty. He then looked down again and went to hug you close again.. trying to drop it.

“It’s just that, in the past—“

“Alexander.”

The firmness of his full name from your lips made him lift his head again.

“You can’t keep looking to the past…”

He swallowed softly and stared at you, tightening his arms around your waist. You squeezed his hips gently with your thighs and shook your head.

“You won’t find me there… I’m here. In the present.”

Alex parted his lips and his eyes began to soften with a sort of gratefulness. He was fully, undoubtedly, and insatiably in love with you.

“Are you here with me…?”

“…I’m here… with you.”

You slowly began to smile and he leaned up, capturing your lips in yet another kiss. This one was softer, slower… like he was drinking in your words from this kiss alone.

The grip he had on your waist lowered to your hips, and he tugged until your hips collided with his own, causing you to gasp against his mouth. His lips were warm, the taste of cinnamon chewing gum on his tongue.

He wanted to take care of you.

He owed you more than that, he owed you the world, but he’d start here.

Your hands that had previously been entangled in hair, slid down his neck, and across his shoulders. His warm skin prickled under the cool touch of your fingers. His mind was already spinning from your kisses alone, but now he felt drunk…

He could feel the burn of desire building up like pressure between his hips. He wanted you, right now.

You loved when Alex was vulnerable like this.

Soft and sleepy, willing to be taken care of. It made something switch in you. You pulled away from his mouth, moving down to leave opened mouthed kisses across his jaw and down his neck. You knew he especially loved that spot near his collarbone, and nipped at the skin with your teeth.

You couldn’t help but giggle when he shuddered and whispered your name, chin tilted to the ceiling like you were the one thing he worshiped. You found his mouth again and he breathed against you, shivering against your body when your nails ran down his back.

He grunted, squeezing his eyes shut and releasing a puff of air as his mouth feel agape, feeling you roll your hips painfully slow against his own.

“(Y/n)… please, love.”

—————

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝.

[dilly-oh]

Crush

“Kakashi, for fuck’s sake, it’s your turn,” Asuma growled around his cigarette, holding out the report as they stood in the hallway outside the mission office. “It was your turn the last ten turns. You ain’t squirrelin’ outta this shit again.”

“I need to go water my plants,” Kakashi said, slithering away from the others as he tried to make a quick getaway. Genma stepped to the side, blocking his path.

“Come on, man. That cute Chunin with the ponytail is at the desk. You know, the one you have a crush on?”

Kakashi froze in the act of levering the nearby window open, snapping around to give Genma a look of pure outrage.

“Excuse me?”

“You. Chunin. Crush,” Genma repeated slowly.

“What am I, fucking five?” Kakashi narrowed his visible eye. “I’m a grown-ass man who kills people for a living. I’m feared throughout all the nations as Sharingan Kakashi. I’m a fucking legend. I don’t get crushes.” He paused. “And even if I did have one on him, how would you even know?” Genma shrugged.

“Cuz you’re always walking into walls and shit whenever you’re near him.”

“I do NOT-” Kakashi began, then promptly kicked over the wastebin next to the door, scattering trash all over the floor. Literally everyone in the mission room snapped around and stared at him accusingly.

Even the Chunin. Who was, admittedly, very cute.

“You’d better clean that up,” he said, his tone that of a disapproving teacher about to mete out punishment to an unruly student.

Okay he wasn’t that cute.

…Godammit yes he was.

Kakashi hurriedly shoved all the trash back into the bin, slapped Asuma in the face with the report, and bolted out the window.

---

It kept happening.

Kakashi was just minding his own business, buying groceries at the local market (because even trained killers needed to eat) when he saw the Chunin fondling some melons, and suddenly the pyramid of eggplants he’d been perusing had collapsed, a wave of them tumbling down and rolling all over the floor in a vegetable tsunami. The store manager started shouting and Kakashi decided he’d just order takeout as he slipped out the back exit.

At the laundromat, he caught sight of the Chunin folding his tighty-whiteys and somehow mismeasured the appropriate amount of laundry soap, resulting in the washing machine foaming itself to death like a rabid dog. Kakashi had to put it down with a Chidori and then escape through a window amidst the ensuing chaos.

He knocked down an entire shelf at the library when he saw the other man bending over to reach a low book. He quickly teleported out of there before the man could turn around and see him standing ankle-deep in porn.

Late one night, he was leaping along the rooftops and spotted the Chunin at an outdoor restaurant, seated at a table with friends, head thrown back in raucous laughter. Kakashi sailed through the air, eyes glued to the sight, so he didn’t see the billboard until it was too late.

It couldn’t go on like this.

---

“Okay you might have a point,” Kakashi said. Genma gave a snort.

“Of course I do.”

“I don’t even know his name-”

“Iruka.”

“Iruka? Oh GOD, even his name is fucking adorable.” Kakashi covered his face with his hands and took a deep, calming breath. “…Who else knows?”

“Everyone, Kakashi,” Genma said flatly. “Everyone knows. Even the Hokage knows.”

“Alright then.” Kakashi straightened with a determined air. “It seems pretty obvious what I need to do.” Genma stared at him for a long moment, chewing on his senbon.

“…Actually talk to the man and have a heartful confession about your true feelings?”

“Fuck no. Avoid him for the rest of my life.”

“Oh thank God I thought you were gonna say ‘kill him’.”

“Maybe I should start avoiding you, too.” Kakashi narrowed his eyes. “My plan will work, just you wait. I’m not called a genius for nothing.”

---

“Kakashi, meet your new mission partner,” the Sandaime said, standing in the doorway of his office and patting Iruka proudly on the shoulder.

Kakashi nearly spit out his tea. Through his mask.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he choked out. This mission debriefing had gone to shit, and he’d been sitting there all of five seconds. The Sandaime frowned at him, wrinkles deepening with displeasure.

“I will not have you looking down on young Iruka here simply because he’s a Chunin,” he said firmly, taking a seat at his desk. “What he lacks in experience he more than makes up with sheer determination. He will be a great asset for this two-man mission and I hand-picked him for exactly that reason.”

“Understood,” Kakashi said, switching to mission mode in the vain attempt it would help distract from the overwhelming presence of the other man. It didn’t. Iruka took a seat right next to him, their thighs so close Kakashi could almost feel his body heat. He pushed his chair away a few inches for some breathing room and knocked over a potted plant.

“You two will be travelling deep into the Forest of Death,” the Hokage explained. Kakashi hid a wince. The Forest of Death has worsened over the years, rotting from the inside like a fruit gone bad. It had devolved into a festering jungle filled with mutated beasts that would messily devour their bodies and environmental hazards that would devour their chakra. But as long as they were careful-

Iruka crossed his legs and Kakashi bumped a pile of papers off the Hokage’s desk.

Yeah, they were in trouble.

“Your mission consists of two parts,” the Hokage went on. “The first is to reach these coordinates.” He handed the pair a scrap of paper with a set of numbers scribbled on it. “The second part is in this.” He held out a small, innocuous scroll. “It contains special instructions, only to be read once you’ve reached the site. Not before. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Kakashi said with grim resignation as he accepted the scroll and tucked it safely away. He just needed to get through this mission as fast as humanly possible, then he could go back to smothering his emotions under a metaphorical pillow. It would just be a few hours. He could DO this.

“I’m looking forward to working with you,” Iruka said, giving him a dazzling smile.

Kakashi spilled his cup of tea all over his lap.

…It was going to be a long mission.

---

The trek through the Forest of Death lived up to its name. It was a long, arduous journey through the dark, twisted woods, fraught with danger at every turn. Kakashi was on edge, painfully aware that, with one misstep, nearly everything in the jungle, plant and animal included, was capable of killing him at a moment’s notice.

That is, if Iruka didn’t kill him first.

Kakashi fell on an anthill and suffered a dozen venomous stings when the man decided to adjust his ponytail.

He walked into a tree and was nearly strangled by sentient vines when Iruka wiped his mouth after taking a drink from his canteen.

Kakashi tripped onto a patch of brambles which started actively draining his blood when Iruka raised an arm to wipe his brow and his shirt rode up.

And that was only in the first hour.

Iruka himself was an ideal companion. He followed Kakashi’s lead without question, trusting his judgement and experience with nothing but polite obedience, even attempting to start up a conversation once or twice. After Kakashi bit his tongue trying to reply, he took to ignoring the other man, who quickly caught on and fell into a sullen silence.

I can’t take much more of this, Kakashi thought to himself darkly as he slogged through the mud hours later. Every inch of his body ached, multiple wounds stinging and burning. Or maybe that was just the leeches. Konoha’s about to have a Missing-Nin if we don’t get there soon-

“I think…I think we’ve arrived,” Iruka cut in, checking his compass and studying his map. “Yes, these should be the correct coordinates. We’re here.”

Thank fuck. The nightmare was nearly over. Kakashi slipped the scroll out of his pocket and unrolled it. The orders contained within were rather short and simple. A single sentence. Four words, actually.

Ask him out already.

Kakashi stared at the message for a full ten seconds, then promptly set it alight with a Katon.

"What the fuck!” Iruka cried.

“Meant for my eyes only.” Kakashi stamped on the ashes, grinding them into the dirt. “I was to burn it after reading to leave no evidence.”

“Oh, well, I guess that means it’s my turn to read this one,” Iruka said, pulling out a second scroll from his pack. Kakashi hurriedly snatched it away and ripped it open, scanning the contents.

Pussy.

Kakashi burned that one, too.

“Seriously, what the fuck!” Iruka cried louder.

“Mission’s done, we’re heading home,” Kakashi stated, then turned and took a step.

And promptly sank up to his thigh in the suddenly soupy ground.

…Oh fuck.

“Don’t move!” Iruka shouted in warning. “It’s quicksand.”

“No shit,” Kakashi snapped out, then quickly shut up as he sank to his waist. He went perfectly still, arms out to keep himself afloat in case he sank further. “Calm down, I’m fine.” He closed his eyes, concentrating as he released a flare of chakra to push him free of the mire. The quicksand quickly gobbled up. “…Okay, maybe panic a little, I’m not fine.” The quicksand seemed to have developed a taste, and was now steadily devouring his chakra with a voracious appetite. “Okay, panic a lot. It’s draining my chakra.”

“Damn, hold on.” Iruka started rifling through his pack and pulled out a coil of rope. “Here, we’ll use this to get you out- actually wait, I think you’re close enough for me to reach out and grab you. Quick, give me your hand-”

Iruka stuck out his hand. Kakashi’s stomach did a little flip.

“Fuck no, I’m not touching you. Throw the rope.”

“What is your problem with me?” Iruka demanded. “I hardly know you and you already hate me.”

“I do not hate you,” Kakashi ground out through gritted teeth. “Throw the damn rope.”

“Not until you tell me what your deal is.”

“There is no deal.”

“Bullshit! You’ve been cold and distant this entire time. You’ve barely spoken a single word to me in hours. The fuck did I DO?”

“Nothing. Throw. The ROPE.”

“Tell me why you’re being such an asshole to me!”

“Because I fucking LIKE you, okay?!” Kakashi finally exploded. The background noise of the forest fell silent at the sudden outburst. Iruka just stared at him.

“…What?”

Kakashi tried to stem the flow of words, but they all came spewing out in a rush like verbal diarrhea.

“I keep walking into walls and knocking over shit and it’s all because of YOU and your dumb FACE and perky ponytail and that fucking dorky way you tuck in your pants-”

“What’s wrong with the way I tuck in my pants-”

“-because I have a stupid fucking CRUSH on you!!”

“God, what are you, five?!” Iruka shouted back. “Why can’t you just say you wanna fuck me like an adult?”

Kakashi gaped at him, flabbergasted.

“ExCUSE me?”

“Admit it. You want me.” Iruka crossed his arms, looking him up and down. “I don’t really get why, though. I’m always yelling at you in the mission room. You got some sort of humiliation kink?”

“Okay, you know what, you can just leave me here-”

“Don’t act like you’re not a pervert,” Iruka snorted. “I’ve seen the kind of shit you read.”

“That’s not the same!! It’s a book, not real life!” Kakashi argued. “Just because I read it doesn’t mean- I would never- look, my dad taught me to be a gentleman, alright?!”

Iruka studied him for a long moment, then tossed him the rope. Kakashi sighed in relief and grabbed it.

“…So we’re not gonna screw after I pull you out?” Iruka asked teasingly. “Not even get a bit handsy? Make out a little?”

“Of course not!” Kakashi squeaked out. “What kind of guy do you think I am?!”

Iruka broke into a huge grin.

“Oh my God, you’re adorable.”

Kakashi let go of the rope.

“Hey!” Iruka hurriedly reeled in the rope, then tossed it out again. It slapped Kakashi square between the eyes, but he didn’t even flinch. “Kakashi. Please take the rope. I don’t wanna have to file the paperwork. There’s, like, ten different forms.” He still didn’t move. “Please.” He just glared. “…Take the rope or I start taking my clothes off.”

Kakashi seized the rope in a death grip and didn’t let go until he was back on solid ground, chakra-depleted but alive. His legs were a bit shaky as he stood, and he was covered in thick, viscous mud from feet to armpits, not to mention the squelching noises every time he took a step.

“Okay, honestly, I’m a little insulted you grabbed on so fast,” Iruka said. “Are you sure you have a crush on me?”

“Will you stop talking about-” Kakashi went to pick up his canteen and accidently punted it into the quicksand. “MotherFUCK-”

“Yeah, okay, I see it now.”

“Look,” Kakashi said wearily, almost dragging a hand down his face before remembering it was coated in mud, “I just want to forget this whole mission ever happened, alright?” Iruka gave him a mischievous smirk.

“You sure you don’t wanna just bone?”

“Bone? BONNNNE?!” Kakashi repeated incredulously. “In a monster-infested jungle?”

“But I brought protection,” Iruka said, then held up a kunai. Kakashi refused to laugh, even though it was funny.

“Forget it,” he snapped. “A mosquito will probably fly up my dick and make it rot off.”

“Don’t worry, I’d suck it out.”

“Okay we are LEAVING-”

“Wanna hold hands while we walk?”

“Correction, I am LEAVING-”

"I’m serious, actually,” Iruka said, holding out his hand invitingly. Kakashi froze, staring at the proffered appendage like it was a bear-trap ready to spring. His stomach did another flip. “Come on, please? I don’t bite.”

Kakashi knew Iruka was just teasing, poking at the embarrassed Jounin with a stick to get a laugh.

Fine. Two could play at that game.

He reached out and took Iruka’s hand, their fingers twining together like old friends.

“…Unless you ask me nicely.”

Kakashi tried to yank his hand away but Iruka refused to let go, so he just reeled him in like a prize catch. Their chests bumped together, and he caught a whiff of the other man, a deep, woodsy scent that sent a shiver down his spine. He froze again as Iruka looked up at him, studying him with those big brown eyes that were not nearly as innocent as they looked.

“You know,” Iruka purred, leaning in even closer, “if you asked me right now…I might say yes.”

Kakashi gulped, throat suddenly dry. He wavered for a moment, uncertainty twisting his guts, then gathered his courage and barged forward.

“Umino Iruka,” he said tremulously, “would…you like…to go out with me sometime?”

Iruka gave him a blank stare.

“…Yeah that’s totally what I meant.”

“Oh my GOD-” Kakshi started to walk away.

“I’m kidding.” Iruka pulled him back, laughing. “Honestly, I’ve had worse first dates.” He looked at Kakashi and cocked his head appraisingly, a gentle smile chasing away the devilish one. “You’re very sweet. It’s refreshing, really. I’m so used to dudes just jumping straight to sex. It’s nice to meet a guy who actually wants to get to know me.”

Kakashi’s cheeks burned beneath his mask. Because it was true. He did want to get to know Iruka, and now he had the prime opportunity. Everything had already been laid bare, all the embarrassing bits hung out to dry. It’s not like it could get any worse.

“Now, let’s get you outta those muddy clothes.”

On second thought, maybe it could.

-End-

Written for @kakairu-rocks KakaIru Valentine's Week 2024, Day 3 Prompts: Crushes and Idiots in Love.

[theysaidhush]

all i wanna see is jake cuddling with jungwon cause that’s so cute 😭 i literally would be content with just jayke cuddling their cat hybrids

Fluffy and cuddly

-> The cat from across the garden, Stand alone I

-> Owner!Sim Jake x CatHybrid!Shy!Reader

-> Jake coming home and cuddling his catgirl hybrid aka you. P.s: He also has an epiphany while doing so...

Day 22

"I'm home..."

The usual cheery and loud voice of your owner echoed within the walls of your small apartment, making your ears twitched and your head raised at the small voice coming from the door. It was weird and unusual, so much that you could almost compare this situation to a polar bear in a desert. It was making you feel uneasy and anxious for no apparent reason at all.

Jake's head poke from the corridor and he made a bee line toward your shared bed, plopping face first on it while discarding his backpack somewhere near the kitchen - not that he cared. Your nose wasn't as sensitive as your feline counter part, or as the canine hybrids, and yet you could still say that your best friend was reeking anxiousness and anger. It was a weird mix of perfume, bitter, sour, that you did not often smelled on the Australian.

"Jakey..?" you put down your book and slowly made your way towards his slumped form, careful with every step you took as to not disturb him more than necessary. Maybe he was feeling sick ? You did not wanted to worsen a potential headache. Actually, you were the one who was starting to get a headache. You did not know if it was because of the pungent smell emanating from him, or just because you were really empathetic.

"I'm fine..." he grunted, turning his head toward you and taking a deep breath, face contorted and cheek squished against the blanket. The sight made you giggle and you slowly sat next to him, getting a little bit closer every passing seconds. You were eager to help him release some of his tension he best you could, patiently waiting for him to utter a word or move a hand. "Jus' had a bad day, with bad grades, and mean customers... That's it, I think."

You hummed ans started to play with his fingers, smiling softly at how they wrapped around yours, a warmth spreading through your body at the demonstration of affection. Even when he was tired and angry, he was doing hi best to tend to your need and be nice to you. Maybe you were a bit mean to him, those days.

Guilt started to pool in your stomach at the embarrassing memories flooding your brain. You were so mean and uncaring, too focus on your lover across the garden, that you forgot to ask him about his day, his health. You were decided, you were going to make it up to him.

"People are mean." you said, pouting. How could they be mean with your Jake ? How could they be mean towards another human ? Having a bad day did not justify being unpleasant to someone else. You were all human, but apparently, some were less human than other.

"I know Baby, I know. I'm glad you don't get to interact with those jerks."

You got on your knees and, with all your strength, pushed Jake on the other side of the bed. Now, he was facing the ceiling, able to breath again, properly, and you were able to snuggle by his side.

You missed the way your owner's eyes widened, surprised at the sudden PDA, but you did not missed the way he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, getting on his side so he could get a better look at you. He missed having you in his arms like this, talking about nonsense until you're both tired and snoring into each other arms. He missed the way you would look at him with those pretty eyes of yours, a galaxy reflecting in your pupils, as if he was the world and so much more.

He gently put his hand on your cheek, staring at you, lost into his thoughts, thinking about how lucky he was to have you, and then, at the exact moment when you blinked slowly and started to purr against his chest, he has an epiphany. He's deeply madly and irrevocably in love with you. If he wasn't sure about it before, now he can only smack himself on the head and ask how he did not realize his feelings for you. You were just here, all along, before his eyes, in his arms. He just can't help the words that leaves his mouth, eagerly, almost slurred, because he's so eager for you to ear them.

"I love you."

And you wrap your tail around his wrist, and shyly lick his neck, grooming him as one would do to his lover, and then after was felt like an eternity, you finally say it back - even if you did not hesitated one second before speaking those words back to him, maybe it was how he caught his breath, or the way time seemed to stop at that moment.

"I love you too, Jakey..."

And if it wasn't for the words that you spoke next, he would have think that you were just saying this just like you say goodbye every morning. If it wasn't for the way you looked at him with heart eyes or the way you took his hand to put it on your healed ear, holding it as if you were afraid that he was about to break, as if he wasn't stronger than you, guiding him to stroke your fluffy fur in a slow motion, he would have think that it was just another cuddly session. But it isn't. Because you love him-

"So so much."

[yeojinnii]

for the better, for the worst, and for the better again.

should i make more parts? lmk

ex boyfriend! cheating! karma akabane, slight asano x reader, angst, with a good ending. (if u like asano then its good, if not then welp🤷‍♀️)

“did you say something?” [name] asked.

“no…no not at all.” nagisa sighed, for what must’ve been the hundredth time

“oh, alright.” how their eyes never left him, even when talking to someone else entirely, nagisa, or e-class, might never know.

arguably he wasn’t doing anything worth watching. leaning against a wall with his hands in his pockets, seemingly uninterested in his classmates conversations in-front of him. he was literally just leaning there..and yet.

did his hair always look like that? or was the wind just in his favor today? was that a new shirt, new blouse? maybe it was his eyes..or maybe just his figure..or m-

“[name]!”

a small ‘huh?’ escaped the dazed student. no longer were they in the outside gym of the e-class ‘island’, but sitting in their uncomfortably cold chair. in a uncomfortably unfamiliar classroom.

their teacher sighed. “please pay more attention.”

they nodded while staring bullets into their desk. the book [name] was supposed to be reading was probably collecting dust by now.

[name] turned to their left. no longer were they greeted with the charming red head they enjoyed seeing so much. instead, the seat was empty. as if to remind them that even after being moved, they would..could still never move on.

asano’s smile was, at first glance, fake, when he re-welcomed you on the campus. suddenly all the harassment he put them and their friends through didn’t matter anymore.

‘friends.’ if they could even say that anymore.

friends don’t do the stuff that karma had done to them. it didn’t matter wether it took 3 days or 3 years, they had to atleast act like they were better off without them.

“i didn’t know he could go that far.”

nothing was too far for karma akabane. they learned that the hard way. “what’s it matter to you, gakushuu?” their voice was firm, yet shaky. sharp, yet dull. hopefully hopeless.

it was silent for a moment. the right words couldn’t exactly describe why he cared.

“i don’t need your pity.”

“this isn’t pity, [name].”

“and at first i thought, ‘i can’t be mad at her.’ but..but she knew! she knew what was happening and she didn’t say a goddamn word!” they cried out, legs pulled together loosely as their eyes stared down into the currently growing rain puddle in front of them.

asano himself wasn’t even sure how they got into this situation. but here he was, listening, watching the once e-class student pour their heart out about his rival who broke their heart. who lied to them. who tricked them.

he genuinely didn’t know what to say. not like anything he said could make this better, but was the silence worse?

[name] sniffled again. at this point it didn’t matter that they were crying their eyes out to the guy who karma had spent restless hours trying to beat, talking down to, trying to prove his own dominance to. it didn’t matter that it was asano, it just mattered that it was someone. the fact that it was asano would either lift them up or crush them down.

maybe they picked up the dangerous tendencies from karma.

“it’s not like i’m killing him! i’m just-”

“i’m the one with a reputation here, [name]. i’m not going to ‘date’ you for your petty revenge.” asano stood up swiftly, his face didn’t look like it could be convinced otherwise.

“not even a date or something? it’s not even real, gakushu! we could just be really good friends! that works!” [name] stumbled to stand up, grabbing their bag as they followed in line like a puppy, stealing half the space from asano’s umbrella without permission.

“acquaintances.”

“what?”

“good acquaintances.”

he held out the umbrella for them to take, his body facing the opposite path to their house, but his head faced directly at them, at their eyes.

relief washed out the remaining tears. it was close enough. close enough for [name]. they took the umbrella but their hands lingered on his. their heart hissing at her to stop. the wounds of their past lover still ate at their core, eating away at any relationship, romantic or not, they had.

mentally, it stung. it hurt. it pained. going to asano wasn’t what they wanted. maybe it was something they needed. or maybe the situation was only going to go downhill from here.

he turned around to his own road. they lived opposite of each other, which meant they had to cut this rather interesting meeting short. [name] didn’t know wether to love it or hate it.

“goodnight, [name].”

“bye, gakushu.”

maybe moving to e-class was for the better. it taught them so much, they met so many people, and learned so much about their self to.

maybe meeting karma was for the worst. lies. fakes. months of evidence plastered right there, but only when it was clearly in front of them did it sink in.

so maybe, and just maybe, seeing asano again was for the better.

the umbrella sat tightly in their grip.

it felt nice to smile again.

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

Hello:)

so I was looking thru ur pinned post and saw that u wrote for Harry Potter and was wondering if you would do a fic for George Weasley? ( fem reader pls) but basically, I was just kind of thinking of an introverted Gryffindor who loves books and George meets them and they both (very obvious to others) have a crush on each other? Maybe George just asks them for book recs even tho he had no interest in reading before just so he can find a way to talk to the reader? I know you have a lot of fics in the making so take ur time please<3

A HP REQUEST?? This is amazing I'm so excited to be branching out from maze runner again, and I absolutely love this request it's super cute ❤❤. Ty for being so kind and sweet as well :)

Umm :D So I wrote the above ^^^ response as soon as the request came in and now... IT'S BEEN TWO MONTHS IM SO SORRY ANON!! Hope you're still out there to read 😭

It's a love story

George Weasley x fem!reader

I am not British *thumbs up in australian* so prepare either for out-of-place non-british dialogue or cringe attempts to fit into the universe. idk which one it's gonna be so I guess we'll find out

3.1k words

Warnings: language (swearing)

You turn the corner and register a flash of red hair before colliding hard with a body.

"Shit!"

You groan as you sit up, staring around to see your books have been knocked out of your arms and onto the floor.

"Fuck, sorry, listen I've gotta-"

"Weasley!"

You turn in surprise as Filch marches down the corridor, fist raised with an expression of rage on his face.

"Shit," you whisper.

"Yeah," says the person who knocked you over, who you've now found is none other than George Weasley. Of course, the guy you've kinda sorta maybe liked for years is only talking to you after literally bowling you over.

"Here." He points his wand and charms all your books into little palm-sized rectangles, before gathering them up and stuffing them in his pockets. "We've gotta go."

"Where?" you stare around the empty corridor, unable to find a decent hiding spot.

"Follow me." George leads you over to a dusty-looking tapestry and ducks behind it.

"What the-"

"Come on!" he reaches out and grabs your hand, tugging you in.

You stumble through the gap between the tapestry and the wall, practically falling into George's chest.

"Sorry," you mutter, and you're glad it's dark because you can feel your face blushing like crazy.

"I know you're 'round 'ere, Weasley," you hear Filch snarl from outside.

You hear him muttering to himself as his footsteps eventually recede, and you let out a breath. "He's gone."

You turn to push through the tapestry to get out, only to be met with a thin slab of solid stone. "What-"

George winces. "Yeah, once you get in here it closes for about half an hour."

"Half an hour?" you repeat incredulously.

You can barely see his nod in the dark. "I mean, one of them closes for two hours once you get in, so half isn't too bad."

There's beat of silence, before, "Lumos."

The tip of George's wand lights up, illuminating the small space. "Oh, it's you," he says, seemingly on instinct the moment the light appears.

"Pardon?"

He seems to catch himself, shaking his head. "Nevermind, just- Here, sit down."

You sit down on the floor with your legs crossed, heart skipping a beat as your knee brushes against his in the cramped space.

"We're in the same Transfiguration class, aren't we?" asks George.

"I- yeah." You're pleasantly surprised by that. You tend to be pretty quiet in class, mostly keeping to yourself.

"You're always the first person to get a new transfiguration successfully. Bird to glass on the first try, right?"

"I- yeah," you say, warming at the recognition of the hard work you've always put into Transfiguration.

He nods. "Took me the whole lesson to get that one right. Hey, I never caught your name in class?"

"It's L/n," you say. "Y/n L/n."

"Good to meet ya, Y/n," he grins. "I'm George."

"I know," you can't help but say, smiling slightly.

"Oh, your books." George empties his pockets of your miniaturised books. "Engorgio." He waves his wand over them, changing them back to their normal size.

"Thanks," you say, pulling them towards you and stacking them up.

"You read a lot?"

You smile to yourself, picturing the dozens of books you go through in a term. "Just a bit."

"Sure," says George, eyeing the four novels sitting in front of you now.

Before long, you reach out and push against the tapestry, finding it to be cloth again instead of stone.

"Time to go?" George stands and pushes through, and you follow him into the corridor.

"Finally," you say, stretching before grabbing your books.

"Sorry about earlier," says George with a sheepish smile. "And for trapping you for half an hour."

You shake your head. "It's okay."

He grins at you. "Alright then, see you 'round Y/n."

You stand still, rooted to the ground as he leaves, waving behind him, and something in you clicks. Oh shit.

⭒----⭒

Any thoughts about George a put aside for the night when you settle down with your book.

The common room late at night is your happy place. Most people are sleeping in the dorms, save for a couple 6th years finishing their assignments.

You tune out their little whisperings as you sit beside the crackling fire, and you can just pretend you're alone in the common room, getting lost in your book.

Before long, you're actually alone, with the remaining people all retreating to their dorms - except for one that you haven't noticed.

George is sitting across the room, barely paying attention to the essay he's meant to be editing. Every so often, he glances up at you without you noticing.

After years of sharing the same Transfig class, something about you has piqued George's interest, though he's always tried to mark it down as pure curiosity.

He can't believe it's taken literally knocking you to the ground to get your attention, and he doesn't understand how he hadn't properly met you before earlier that day. But now, he can't seem to resist the strange pull you have on him.

Get yourself together, you've only met once, idiot. George frowns as he silently berates himself, but he can't help but watch as you repeatedly flick away a strand of hair that keeps falling into your eyes.

Fuck it. Go talk to her.

George stands abruptly, nearly knocking over a goblet in the process.

You, the oblivious centre of all his thoughts for the past few hours, are still just sitting beside the fire, reading your book.

"Hey."

You jerk slightly in surprise, grabbing your book as it starts sliding out of your lap.

"Um, hi. What's up?" you manage to say coolly.

George blanks. He hadn't exactly come in with a plan. He glances down at the assignment he'd been working on; good enough. "Did you finish that work Flitwick gave us?"

"I haven't yet," you say slowly, slightly confused as to why he's here. "I've just gotta write a conclusion and edit the rest."

"I haven't got a clue how to write the damn conclusion," says George, flopping down beside you and complaining about the rigid essay structure.

You realise as he's talking that it's strangely intimate. Earlier, you'd been sitting on the floor with your back leaning on a couch and your knees up, braced against the coffee table.

Now, you're both wedged between said couch and table, and despite the generous space between the two of you, you feel oddly close to him.

"Can I read yours?" he asks, pointing to where your assignment has been sitting since you gave up and decided to just read your book.

"Sure," you say, sliding it to him.

He leans against the couch as he skims your work, fingers tapping absent-mindedly.

"God you write like a professor, Y/n," comments George. "...the fuck are all these words- incandescence?"

"I... read a little," you say with a little smile, cheeks warming at the way your name sounds in his mouth.

He glances up at you. "This is brilliant. So you've just got the conclusion to do?"

You nod, taking back the assignment as he pushes it to you.

You end up staying up way longer than you'd intended, talking to George as the conversation topic quickly strays away from any Charms essays.

By the time you go to your dorms, you haven't even finished your conclusion.

⭒----⭒

"Mate, you're not nearly as subtle as you think you are," says Fred, elbowing his brother.

George elbows him right back. "What're you on about?"

"The staring," says Fred, grin teasing. "It's getting embarrassing. If whatever little crush you've now got starts affecting my reputation, we're gonna have to have a chat about this twin thing."

George rolls his eyes. "Git."

"So..." Fred drags out the word. "Who is it then?"

He jerks his chin towards the group of girls on the other side of the Gryffindor breakfast table, where George had been conspicuously staring at you all morning.

"The one on the left - Y/L/N, she's in our Transfig class."

"Oh!" says Fred, eyes lighting up in understanding. "Oh she's great, I did a project with her once. Quiet type, bookish. Fun, though. Pretty, too," he adds, raising an eyebrow at George.

"Shut it," retorts George. "What should I do then?"

"I don't fuckin' know Georgie, just go talk to her. Ask for book recommendations or something."

"That's... actually a decent idea."

" 'course it is," says Fred. "Anything to get you guys together as fast as possible so I don't have to deal with your lovesick horsecrap."

⭒----⭒

A Quidditch game has just finished (Gryffindor victory, of course), and you're avoiding the inevitable party in the common room. You can enjoy parties on a good day, but you're just not feeling it right now.

So you're in the library, wandering around as you wait for dinner.

"Y/n!" You turn to see George doing a weird half-run toward you, not wanting to be yelled at for running in the library.

"Oh, George. Hey."

"I figured you'd be in here," he says.

"You figured...?"

"Well," he raises an eyebrow at you. "Since you read a little."

You huff out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "So why were you looking for me?"

You try to listen as he speaks, but you're immediately distracted by just about everything about him.

His cheeks are flushed red, probably cause he just transitioned from the cold outside to the heated library, and his hair is windswept and slightly wet from melted snowflakes.

He's gotten rid of his Quidditch gear, but it's strange to see him in just the casual clothes students usually wear in the dorms and common room again.

And he's still speaking. Pay attention, Y/n.

"Anyways, I just wanted to find you, cause you know, hobbies... and literature, are really... important. And the Christmas holidays are coming up. So I just wanted to ask if you had any recommendations."

You frown slightly as you remember it's only the start of November, and he barrels on, almost seeming nervous.

"For books, I mean. To read, over the holidays. I don't, uh- come in here very often, so I don't know what's good. You seemed like a good person to ask." He scrubs a hand over the back of his neck as he speaks, giving you a hopeful smile.

"I am," you say with a smirk. You straighten up confidently, banishing any nervousness because books; books you can do.

"Great," says George. "What've you got for me, Y/L/N?"

"Well what kind of books do you like?"

His grin falters. "Um-"

"Fiction, non-fiction, stories, biographies?"

"...stories?"

"Sure." You navigate to another aisle, moving into the more fiction-y section. "Action, ooh- historical, adventure, romance?" You lift an eyebrow at the last one.

"I-" He clears his throat, and you smile slightly to yourself. "Action is good, I think," he says uncertainly.

You scan the shelf currently at your eye level, before picking out a book. "I love this one," you tell him. "Pretty fast paced, which might be good for you. Also, dragons."

"Dragons," he repeats. "Great."

"How many books are you looking for?" you ask.

"Just one, I think. I wanna... get into reading, before the holidays start."

"Sure," you say, holding the book out to him.

It's like sun breaking through, when he smiles in return. "Do you think we could meet up?" he begins. "To talk about the book once I've read it?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," you smile. "And you have to tell me what you like, so I can recommend you the next one."

"Excellent."

⭒----⭒

Ever since giving George that first book you've started seeing him almost every day.

The two of you can be found huddled together in the little nooks around the library, or behind the greenhouses, or down by the lake, talking about books and school and everything in between.

But soon the holidays arrive, and you're saying goodbye to him and the rest of your friends.

Your parents are being forced to travel a lot over Christmas for work, so the first month of the holiday flies by in a whirlwind of tea in the morning with the few remaining students in Hogwarts, long peaceful walks on the grounds, and lots and lots of reading.

You've devoured a row of books in the library by the time Christmas has passed, and you've planned to go through another row, when George materialises in the common room one day, two weeks after Christmas.

"George?" you exclaim, spotting him in the common room.

He turns as he hears your voice, and his face splits into a wide grin. Without hesitation, he runs up to you and pulls you into a hug, lifting you just slightly above the floor.

Your heart swells as his laughter rings in the air, and suddenly everything is complete.

"I missed you so much," you tell him, almost surprised at your own admission. Truth is, Hogwarts is beautiful during Christmas, but it's a little lonely with everyone else having gone home.

George's responding smile is worth the wait though, and he tosses an arm around your shoulder as he leads you out of the common room.

"C'mon, it's a Hogsmeade day. No time to waste!"

⭒----⭒

The two of you settle down at a table in the Three Broomsticks, grabbing Butterbeers as you go.

"Alright then, Weasley. Did you get through the holiday book I got you?"

He smiles. "I did. And you know what I was thinking when I read it?"

"What?"

"Y/n would hate Chaolie, and she'd love Alosia."

You blink in surprise. "I- yeah, those are my exact thoughts on the book."

George smirks. "See? I know you."

"I mean yeah, I loved every chapter Alosia was in; she's my favourite. Typical, I know, everyone likes the side characters, but god, Allo would've been so much better as a main character than fucking Chaolie. G.T.L. is brilliant- we know that, she fits insane arcs and storylines into a single book, but please,-"

George listens, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth, as you continue rambling animatedly about the book, your hands gesturing enthusiastically as you speak.

"And the cover: gorgeous. You know stories like this can have the silliest cover art if they're not done well, and the choice to go almost muggle-style with a non-moving cover is perfect."

You brush a stray piece of hair away from your face, oblivious to the way George tracks the movement, desperately wanting to reach out and tuck it behind your ear for you.

The bell on the door chimes and you look over George's shoulder to see a bunch of familiar redheads walking in.

"Ah, Y/n," says Fred, floating towards your table. "Lovely to finally see you again after having to hear so much about you over Christmas."

You giggle as George thumps his brother with his book, face turning almost as red as his hair. "Stupid- git."

"This is the Y/n?" says Ron, another one of George's brothers.

His sister joins in too. "Ah, so you're the reason we had to come back early."

"Early?" you repeat, confused.

"Enough," snaps George. "Piss off, all of you," he says, fruitlessly shoving his siblings away from your table.

He groans. "Come on Y/n, we're leaving." He tugs on your hand, and you snort as his family's antics as you down the last sip of Butterbeer and hop off your seat.

"Until we meet again, Y/n." Fred salutes you as you exit, and you laugh as you wave to the rest of the Weasleys.

"Sorry about them," says George, slightly pink in the cheeks.

"Don't worry," you laugh. "It's fine. But what did Ginny mean when- hey!"

You're cut off as George yanks off his scarf and starts wrapping it around your neck and face. "...It's cold out," he explains weakly as you give him a look.

You pin him down with your gaze, and he sighs. "Fine."

He grabs your hand and leads you away from the Three Broomsticks, brushing snow off a park bench before sitting down.

Every memory he's had with you, every moment he's spent falling for you, flashes through his head.

The shy smile you had in your first few days of meeting, which he could only describe as cute, the mischievous glint in your eye when you'd almost recommended him a romance book, your laugh that he's memorised the sound of... damn it, he better not fuck this up.

You sit down beside him, giving him a concerned look.

"Okay, here it is," he says abruptly. "I like you."

You blink, caught off guard.

"You're so- you're bright," he says. "There's this light in you, and it's so fucking bright, and people don't see it. I don't get that. But whatever, they don't matter. I just mean, I've been pretty much blinded by you since we met... well, since I knocked you over running from Filch. I- god, fuck this metaphor. The point is, every time I'm not with you, I'm just wishing that I was. Cause I like you, and I wish- I'd hoped, that maybe you like me back?"

You're still silent, your brain trying to catch up with what your ears are hearing.

But George takes the silence differently. "It- it's okay if you don't. You know, I don't want to pressure you, at all. It's completely-"

"George." You take his hand. "I like you too, so damn much. I was just... I've never done this before. I didn't know if I should ask you out, or confess, or anything."

George lets out an incredulous breath. "Oh. Well then."

He rests his forehead against yours. "Y/n, will you do me the great honour of becoming my girlfriend."

You're smiling so much it almost hurts. "I'd love to," you whisper.

⭒----⭒

It's only on your first date, that you realise; "You know, we've practically be dating this whole time."

"What do you mean?" asks George, digging into his icecream.

"Meeting up, just the two of us. We've been doing it for ages, except we thought it was just book meetings."

The spoon stills halfway to George's mouth. "...fuck."

You snort, "We're both idiots, aren't we."

"Could've saved me so much grief if I'd known we were already dating. It was well shit, overthinking everything over the holidays."

"You mean when you missed me so much you convinced your whole family to come back to school early?"

"Sod off," he replies, nudging your foot and grinning. "You thought it was cute, anyway."

"I did."

There's a beat, before; "Kissing," you say, pointing your spoon at him. "We weren't totally dating, cause we didn't kiss."

"Right," agrees George, nodding. "Speaking of..."

You let out a laugh, setting your icecream down on the table, and then you let him pull you in.

Silly details cause I can't help myself: Alosia is a music project by dodie, Chaolie is based on Chaol from tog (sorry), and GTL is the fictional author from Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell. Thank you for tolerating my self-indulgent easter eggs.

Thank you for reading, everyone! Hope you enjoyed my first fic in the HP universe <3

[p-taryn-dactyl]

Gasoline

a/n: hi! so this is my first time writing for Wanda romantically and idk how i really feel about it but this prompt popped in my head and i just felt like it fit her the most. edit: all 3 parts are out!!

warning(s): arguments - fighting; insecurities (both); fear; terribly written arguments; very slight mentions of emotional abusive past

wanda maximoff taglist:

word count: 1.2k

disclaimer: i try and write wanda maximoff as rromani and Jewish as she is in the comics, her descriptions will be akin to those in the comics, i haven’t read many of the marvel comics so if i get something wrong, you are free to tell me (respectfully) in my ask box or dms <3

You don’t know how the argument started. One minute, you were enjoying a nice quiet evening with your girlfriend, reading on the couch while she did magic in the kitchen. Not literal magic, though you know she could, but cooking up the most delicious of smells. It could’ve started after you stated how nice it was to finally have some time together. After all, in the past couple of weeks, you’d only seen your girlfriend a couple of times.

Now, dinner forgotten on the counter, your book strewn across the couch, you and Wanda stood across from each other, arguing over the most trivial things.

“That’s not what I was saying Wanda! I just was enjoying some time together!”

“So you think I’ve been neglecting you?”

You threw your hands in the hair, exasperated.

“Wha-no! That’s not what I was saying at all! I understand you have to go on missions and I respect that but I also want days where I can just spend time with my partner!”

Wanda was silent for a moment before answering.

“Do you?”

You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion.

“Do I what?”

Wanda’s eyes took on a reddish glow, her power boiling under the surface. The last few weeks, to put it simply, had been hell. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the victims of the villain she had been too late to defeat. Every time she got to be alone, some lunatic attacked Times Square. Your supposedly simple comment was like throwing a match on a puddle of gasoline.

“Do you understand I have to go on missions? Because every time I come home, you point out I was gone! I know I was! I was surrounded by hurt people, by my struggling fellow Avengers, and I knew I wasn’t with you!”

Her voice slowly got louder, freezing you into place. Your breathing increased but you tried to calm yourself down.

Wanda wouldn’t yell at you, she knew your history, you had no reason to be afraid.

Oh how wrong you turned out to be.

“I’m tired of it, Y/N! I’m tired of coming home and hearing you complain about me being away! My job is hard enough!”

With every octave her voice rose, your chest starting heaving with labored breaths. Wanda, in her anger, didn’t seem to notice your quiet state, how you had practically curled in towards yourself, how your eyes had gone wide. She raised her hands in the air, frustration rolling off of her in waves.

“It’s so annoying! Maybe if it bothers you so much that I’m away, I’ll just quit! Huh? Then more people would get hurt because I wasn’t there, all for the fact my girlfriend can’t spend a few measly hours alone!” She only paused to catch her breath, before yelling out something she would immediately regret, “Maybe I shouldn’t come home at all, how would that make you feel?”

The air was sucked out of the room. Wanda felt her eyes widen as she realized what she had said and done. It was like she could see you again, you staring at her, eyes wide with betrayal, glossing over with past memories. Memories she knew you had started to forget. Memories of long night spent huddled in a corner as they yelled at you, as they broke you down into a million pieces and then didn’t pick you up.

Wanda covered her mouth with her hand, shaking her head.

“No, Y/N, that’s not what I-”

She took a step forward, arms reaching out to console you, but paused at your reaction.

You flinched.

It was like running into a brick wall. Wanda felt like someone had dropped ice water on her.

You took a shaky step back, Wanda’s heart breaking at the fearful look on your face. You swallowed a few times before speaking, your voice surprisingly clear.

“I think- I think I’m going to stay at Yelena’s tonight.”

With that, you grabbed your phone and keys and walked out the door, not once looking back at Wanda, who remained frozen in the kitchen.

Once she heard the door shut, she snapped out of it.

“Wait-!” She stepped forward before realizing it was too late. Tears welled up in her eyes, angry at herself. God, how could she be so stupid? You had told her about your past, how it had scarred you. And she just-

Oh no. What if you didn’t come back? Had she broken the one thing that was whole in her life? Why had she allowed one innocent comment to anger her so?

With every thought running through her mind, Wanda ran her hands through her hair, the dark brown strands sticking every direction. Crying, Wanda fell to her knees, head shaking. With one wail, she let out a burst of magic, shaking the cabinets and counters. Curling up against the island, Wanda pulled out her phone and opened your contact. But she couldn’t convince herself to call you, she was sure you wouldn’t answer. Leaning her forehead against the cold metal device, Wanda spoke out loud.

“Oh Y/N, beba. I’m sorry. Žao mi je moja ljubavi.”

—————————————————————————————————

At Yelena’s apartment, you weren’t much better. Curled up in a soft blanket on the couch, you listened to your best friend rant about she was going to kill your girlfriend.

“Yelena.” You murmured softly, making your friend stop talking and come to sit next to you on the couch. She handed you a bowl of mac n’ cheese but you shook your head.

“Are you sure? I didn’t add hot sauce this time, I promise.”

You giggled at what she said but still didn’t take the bowl. A wave of sadness overtook you, tears welled up in your eyes, and you leaned your head backwards on the couch.

“Oh God, ‘Lena, how could I have been so stupid?”

Yelena tried to comfort you but you continued.

“Why did I have to say something? I mean the night was going so peacefully and nice and I just had to run my mouth! I should’ve known she was stressed and now,” You sobbed, tears rapidly falling down your face, “Now, she doesn’t even want to be around me! What if when I go home she has all my things packed? Oh no, what if, what if she finds someone else? Someone who doesn’t complain when she’s gone or looses sleep just because she isn’t there in bed? What if-”

Yelena gently but firmly grabbed your hands, the look in her eyes making you pause.

“You’re spiraling, Y/N, come on, take a deep breath, in and out,” she rubbed your back, pulling you in for a hug, “It’s going to be alright. Wanda loves you and even though she totally messed up tonight, she’s not going to find someone else or kick you out. You are irreplaceable.”

You smiled against Yelena’s shoulder, tears stilling falling from your eyes.

“Is it okay if I spend the night?” You mumbled against your friend. Yelena looked over to her phone, which she had put on mute, where 75 call notifications lit up her screen. All were from Wanda. Looking back to your shaking form, your best friend tightened her arms around you.

“You can stay for the night Y/N or however long you need.”

——————————————————————————————————-

a/n: ok ik that really didn’t make sense but thank you so much for reading! if anyone wants a part two let me know! Hopefully i did okay while writing Wanda’s character! feel free to send in requests for her <3

italics were words in serbian:

beba = baby

Žao mi je moja ljubavi = I’m sorry my love

[the-wales-5]

"Strength & stay"

30th November 2023.

His emotions already were at a high level as he straightened his bow tie, but after hearing the words “Your royal highness..” and knowing it was directed at Catherine, he swore that if he could, he would step towards that man and would punch him. Instead, he tried to hide his anger and just quickly walked to the front. He needed to see her to check if she was alright.

A hand on her stomach in a protective gesture, downward gaze, and slightly hunched posture. In a second, Catherine became nervous despite the strength & ability to stay calm she had in herself most of the time over the years. She was never looking straight to the cameras in the past, but at that moment, she wanted all of the media gathered in front of her to go away.

William stood there, waiting for her and ready to help her. Within seconds, Catherine noticed him and sent him a little smile with a sign of relief. Time stopped for the two of them. Initially, William wanted to put his hand on her back in a usual protective gesture, but when he saw her lifted hand, he read her mind.

Soon, their hands were intertwined. Catherine held onto him stronger than usual. She needed his touch to get courageous, and William knew that. Holding hands were over after a few seconds. William put his hand on his wife's back, not simply leading her this time but shielding her. Literally. Their height difference, though not that noticeable when the Princess of Wales wore high-heels, now was helpful.

When he made sure that not even one camera on the side was able to get a glimpse of her, he looked back as if he wanted to tell that rude, shameless guy “Stay away from my wife”. They walked past the wall where it was written “Royal Variety Performance 2023”. They did not stop and pose there, nor waited for Crown Princess Victoria and Prince Daniel, who joined them for this year's event.

Yet before the performance started, the prince and princess of Wales met Hannah Waddingham, who attended the recent Earthshot Prize Ceremony in Singapore. Catherine was smiling, and so were her eyes when she was looking at her husband. Soon, the prince of Wales also began to feel relaxed. He was seen laughing a few times during the show.

*

They left the Royal Albert Hall, and after saying goodbye to the hosts, they sat down in the car.

“How are you feeling now?” William's wife quietly asked him

He hid a sigh and said “I'm fine”, but Catherine asked once again as she placed her hand on his.

“It is so frustrating to hear these people screaming to get your reaction after those false bloody accusations in that book” William said and looked at her “Are you okay now?” .

Catherine nodded and weakly smiled at him. She kissed him on the cheek and whispered “You do not have to worry about me. I have never been a weak person, right?”

William smiled a little bit as he said “Of course, but those questions today...”

“Today I simply needed to get a little bit of courage from my husband. That's it” Catherine smiled as she squeezed his hand

“I am so proud of you” he replied and wanted to kiss her, but instead of doing that, he simply brushed some hair away from her face. Kate shyly smiled in response.

“In moments like this, under so much pressure and frustration, I am always wondering about one thing, Kate” He said as he looked into her green eyes “Why have you chosen this life? You could literally have anyone. All the other guys in Fife, they were obsessing over you”

Catherine tried not to smile as she said “Well.. They were obsessing over me, but that did not flatter me as much as your ‘innocent’ stares. You know, sometimes it was difficult not to notice. And nowadays it also happens. I see everything” she said.

It was followed by the sweetest sound ever, or at least William described her laughter like that in his thoughts. After a few seconds, Catherine spoke up again:

“This is exactly what I mean. An ‘innocent’ stare at me”.

William shyly smiled, and their fingers were locked within seconds.

*

After they returned home, the princess went to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, her husband checked on their children. All of them were sleeping soundly, and he smiled while again thinking about them and the life he shared with Kate.

Even after all these years with her, he still couldn't believe that a woman like her fell in love with him, with a man whose life was more than troubling with the trauma after losing his mother, media intrusion, pressure and other things that he hated.

After taking a shower himself a few minutes later, he went to the living room and poured some wine for Catherine and himself.

She came there a few minutes later after checking on George, Charlotte and Louis.

“Are we going to drink alcohol tonight?”

“We're just going to talk about a few things, my adorable Kate” William replied and smiled.

“What things?”

“It has been a while since we had time just for ourselves like this, hasn't it?”

“Yes, but why now? It's late”.

William put a glass of wine in her hand “It is indeed late, but this is the only time when we can talk peacefully”

“It is not our university time anymore, I'm sorry”.

They both giggled and sat on the sofa while looking at one another. Catherine said quietly

“But I am not looking glamorous anymore either. I wiped all of my makeup away”

William shook his head before taking the first sip of wine. After a second, he said “You look even better without all that makeup, Kate”.

She blushed a little but then cleared her throat and said whilst looking at his face. “From the moment you asked that question in the car, I have been wondering about the same thing. Why did you choose me when you literally could have anyone? Other girls were crazy about you. They were basically hiding in every corner of the university. Meanwhile you tried to find a moment to talk with me while going to the lectures together anyway. I know I was often called “beautiful Kate”, but I was shy”.

“That is the official version for our engagement interview. What is the truth, William Wales?” She teased him

William smiled and finally took a sip of wine. “This is why you were special”

“This is the truthful version, Kate. You were special. Honest, kind and, as they all said, beautiful as well”.

“I was just your friend at first. There is nothing special about that”

“Every single day with you has been and is special, Catherine. And from the moment I saw you for the first time, I knew that. I simply knew that you were extraordinary”.

She laughed as she teased him again “Wow, either that wine worked unbelievably fast or you are getting that romantic mood again”

“On which option do you bet?” William smiled

“The first one” she said and winked before bursting out into laughter.

William was looking at her and caressing her hand while she was still laughing.

She looked at him after a few seconds “What? Why are you staring at me?”

“I just fell in love with you again” William said

Catherine giggled “Stop that”

“I'd never understand why a girl like you fell in love with with me though”

“Well, there were plenty of reports in the media over the years” she said and took another sip of wine

“I am asking you about the reality, Miss Middleton”

“The truth is that you were sincere, handsome, and, well, funny” she said

“See? I was right in that interview after our engagement was announced” He teased her again and they both giggled.

William looked into her eyes and then gently kissed her on the forehead. After that kiss, he caressed her cheek and whispered “It is so relieving to see you laughing like this, to see your eyes shining. For years, I knew that you would badly suffer from media scrutiny, and I really wanted to protect you from it”

“And you're succeeding each time, no matter what happens. You're with me. That gives me enough strength to go through these times” His wife weakly smiled as she squeezed his hand in hers.

“There is nothing I would not do to make you feel secure. I am aware that I failed many times” he said

“It isn't true” Catherine replied confidently and took another sip of wine.

Tears filled William's eyes as he stared at her face and whispered “Remember that you are my everything. You will always be safe”.

Kate wiped his tears and nodded, but he ran his fingers through her hair, saying: “No, you don't know. You have no idea how many things I can yet sacrifice for you and your safety, Catherine”.

There was a silence between them for a few seconds. Neither of them knew what to say, but William's wife could feel that his words were sincere. Within seconds, she put her lips on his, but it was not a deep kiss, rather a soft brush against his lips. One of those simple and intimate moments they often shared in the first months of the courting phase at St. Andrews University.

“Oh, that romantic mood of yours still hasn't faded” Catherine chuckled a little, but then her facial expression changed to a more serious one and she whispered “Now I feel exactly like during that flirting stage when we used to almost run away from everyone and you'd kiss me in the same way. It was so embarrassing, overly sentimental” Catherine finished her sentence with a theatrical roll of her eyes and giggled.

William pulled her in a hug and their soft kiss was repeated, this time it was started by him.

“It still feels like our first kisses” he said

“There's no need to rewind those ‘overly sentimental’ moments in your memories, Kate. I almost never do that, because we still are in that phase nowadays” William said

“You definitely are, sometimes” Catherine chuckled and covered her face in hand.

“With you, it's simple to get in that mood, Miss Middleton. Actually, every single thing is so simple with my adorable Kate” he said and traced her face dimples with his fingertips.

Catherine blushed a little and tried to avoid his blue eyes. At that moment, her whole body was relaxed, bad memories of the Royal Variety Performance beginning vanished from her mind completely. All of a sudden, it was her who sent her husband ‘an innocent stare’ and a little smile appeared on her face unconsciously as she watched him drink wine for a few seconds.

“Oh, that shy and sweet facial expression of yours. I've always loved it” William said as he noticed her look.

“Always?”

“Obviously yes” he replied before taking the last sip of wine.

Catherine did the same and it was followed by her words “I do not want to drink anymore”

“Me neither”

“This day has been exhausting” she closed her eyes and sighed quietly

“Yes, but you did a brilliant job out of it, my beautiful Kate”.

Their lips met in a soft kiss again. Soon, they decided to watch a movie together, still in the living room. Halfway the length of the movie, William noticed that Catherine had her eyes closed. He smiled at her lovingly and lifted her up in his arms. Although her sleep was rather deep, this act caused her to chuckle softly.

When he heard it, William could not help himself but kiss her on the cheek.

*

As Catherine woke up in the middle of the night, she saw her husband's face. She quickly remembered how earlier in the evening he held her hand when she most needed it, their long conversation, a promise he once again made to protect her. For a second, William's wife also thought of their courting phase. She caressed his chest and then pulled herself closer to him. He was her safe place for way longer than the last 20 years, and she never wanted that feeling of happiness and safety to be over.

The end 💙✨️

[ninebluehearts]

I literally had another idea. You can ignore me if I'm getting annoying lol. Though just Whiskey having to baby sit Madeline for the reader and the night is a little awkward at first, both of them a little worried that Madeline might cause trouble, but by the time the reader gets home from something, Whiskey and Madeline are curled up watching cartoons. Whiskey still awake, Madeline asleep in his arms possibly. It just sounds so cute.

You're not annoying at all baby!! I love this series so much tbh- AND THIS PROMPT IS SO CUTE OMFG-

A little disclaimer, idk about you guys, but watching the channel Boomerang when I was a kid was my favorite thing ever- They played old 80s cartoons and shit, so just to lyk, this is what they're watching :)

Part 1 part 2

-------------------------------------------------------

"Hello?" Whiskey answered his phone, obviously out of breath.

It used to be when I'd see a girl that I liked

I'd get out my book and write down her name

But when the grass got a little greener on the other side

I'd just tear out that page But then I fooled around and fell in love-

"Hey baby! Are you busy?" Your sweet voice rang out over the phone, making Whiskey suck in a breath. God, he loved you.

"Just finished up somethin'." He glanced around the room, grimacing at all of the injured men that lay on the ground. " Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, but my brother needs me to drive him to the hospital. If you're not too busy, I was wondering if you would babysit Madeline for me?"

Whiskey pressed the button to retract his whip, before tossing it on the table next to him, his lips tightening into a grimace. He and Madeline still didn't know each other all that well, though she seemed to be quite the troublemaker. "Uh, sure thing, sugar. When do you need me there?"

"Like- right now. I'm leaving now, so she'll be by herself until you get here. She shouldn't cause any trouble. She's watching TV at the moment."

"Alrighty, then I'm on my way." Whiskey couldn't help but smile at the relieved sigh you let out.

"Thank you so much baby. I really appreciate it. And listen, if you stay over tonight, I'm sure I can find a way to make it up to you.."

Whiskey leaned against the nearest wall, his sweet smile twisting into a sly smirk. "You've got yourself a deal, sugar."

-

Madeline opened the door, surprised to see Whiskey standing there before her, holding a plastic bag from seven-eleven. "My Mom's not here right now."

"I know. She asked me to come hang here for a bit until she got back."

"Why?"

Whiskey raised his brow, sliding his sunglasses slightly down his nose as he looked down at Madeline. Yep, she was definitely your daughter; her attitude putting any doubts to rest. "Because I've got a bag of candy that we both know I can't finish by myself."

Madeline rolled her eyes, pulling the door open to let him in.

"That's what I thought." Whiskey mumbled, making a beeline towards the living room. "So, what are we watchin'?"

"Courage the Cowardly Dog." Madeline plopped down on the opposite side of the couch from Whiskey, keeping an entire cushion between the two of them, before she picked up the remote from the coffee table and placing it on her lap.

"Sounds good to me." Whiskey dumped the bag of candy out onto the empty cushion, absentmindedly picking up a Snickers and beginning to unwrap it as he stared at the TV screen.

Madeline's eyes lit up once they fell on the bag of gummy worms that sat buried under the mountain of treats. She picked up the bag and opened it, offering a blue and red worm to Whiskey.

Whiskey smiled, reaching over to take it from her. Though before he could, Madeline quickly popped the worm into her mouth.

Whiskey's mouth dropped open, staring at her in shock. "You little shit."

"I'm telling Mom you cursed."

"Did not."

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!" Madeline threw a gummy worm at Whiskey, to which he quickly caught and tossed into his mouth.

"Ha! I win!"

"Asshole!"

Madeline and Whiskey both froze, their eyes wide as they stared at each other in shock. Madeline knew how you felt about her cursing, and she didn't doubt that Whiskey would tell you.

That was, until Whiskey started laughing. "You're just like your mama, you know that?"

Madeline let out a relieved chuckle, leaning back against the couch. "Well yeah, it's not like I can be like my Dad, am I right?"

Whiskey rested his arm on his knee, turning to look back at her with a horrified look on his face. "You did not-"

Madeline's lips turned up into a wide grin, silent giggles shaking her shoulders.

Whiskey shook his head, trying to hide the grin that was as big as hers. "Shut up and pick somethin' else to watch."

Noticing that Courage had ended, and The Power Puff Girls now played in its place, Madeline began to flip through random channels, settling on Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

"Oh, hell yeah! You know this one?"

"Um, yeah?" Madeline looked at Whiskey as though he were stupid for asking such a question. "Though Mom refuses to watch it with me now."

"What? Why?"

She simply shrugged. "Probably because I watched it a million times when I was little."

"Can't say that I blame ya; This is a classic." Whiskey stood up, ruffling the curls on Madeline's head as he made his way towards the kitchen. "How does pizza sound?"

"Fuck yeah!"

"Don't push it, little girl!" Whiskey called out, shaking his head as he picked up his phone to place an order.

-

Your brother is a dumbass.

In an attempt to hang a picture in his bathroom, he ended up smacking his thumb- instead of the nail- with a hammer, successfully fracturing the bone.

So, they wrapped his thumb up, told him to take Tylenol for the pain, then sent you both on your way.

"I'm home!" You called out as you entered your home, dropping your keys on the side table and hanging up your coat. You heard a quiet "Shh" sound from the living room, so of course you went to investigate.

There sat Whiskey on the end of the couch, Madeline's head resting on his thigh with his arm draped over her waist. "Be quiet, I don't wanna wake her up yet."

You couldn't help but grin, your heart swimming at the sight. "Okay, but I want a picture." You said as you pulled out your phone.

"No way! Sugar-"

But it was too late, you caught the picture right as he said 'way,' making it look like he was smiling. "Perfect." You walked over and knelt down next to Whiskey, leaning over the arm of the couch to kiss his cheek. "Hi baby."

Whiskey kissed your forehead in return. "Hey sugar."

"As much as I love this, she has school tomorrow, so I've gotta get her in bed."

Whiskey nodded, letting out a disappointed sigh, before making an attempt to stand up, freezing when he felt Madeline begin to stir. "Ah shit- What do I do?"

You let out a quiet laugh, standing up to go and pick up your daughter. "You get the door."

Whiskey followed you up the stairs, watching as you placed Madeline in her bed and tucked her in, giving her a gentle kiss on her head before you left.

Once back in the living room, you plopped down on the couch, opening the pizza box and taking the last slice. "What did you guys do today?"

"Well," Whiskey sat down next to you, automatically draping his arm around your shoulders. "Took her to a museum, showed her the Statesmen building, went for lunch in Italy, you know, the usual. Definitely didn't eat junk food and watch cartoons."

You rolled your eyes. "Ha-ha, very funny." You let your head roll onto his shoulder, closing your eyes as you finally began to relax.

"How's your brother?"

"He's fine, just a small fracture. Dumbass smacked his thumb with a hammer."

Whiskey grimaced. "Well, that don't sound too fun, now does it?"

You both laughed, soon letting a comfortable moment of silence take over.

"Ya know.." Whiskey began, slowly dragging his hand along the inside of your thigh. "You did say something about a certain form of payment.."

You propped your chin up on his shoulder, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "Race you there?"

"You're on."

You laugh as you watch Whiskey race upstairs, quietly jumping up each step. You couldn't believe you ever kept this man a secret.

[altschmerzes]

🌹🌹🌹 Can we see a little snippet of one of those cuddles Jamie gets in wriggle up please please please? :D

one THOUSAND percent. this is more than a 'little' lmao but. we know how i work around here.

this is from the fallout of the 2x08 debacle in wriggle up on dry land, after they've taken jamie home from the hospital.

cw for direct references to injuries caused by abuse.

Despite the late hour and despite the exhaustion making him feel like he’s been coated in lead, Ted doesn’t go to sleep right away. He changes into his pyjamas and then sits up on top of his still-made bed, leaning against the headboard and reading a book. Well. ‘Reading a book,’ insofar as ‘staring at the same page and not remotely processing any of the words on it for minutes at a time, occasionally flipping a page out of pure instinct’ can be considered reading. At this point, Ted doesn’t even remember what the book is, just that it had been sitting next to his lamp and it was better than grabbing his phone, what with all the anxiety-inducing crap that thing tended to contain at any given moment. It’s because of this avoidance of actual sleep that Ted notices immediately when the door down the hall opens.

Closing his book and setting it off to the side, Ted watches with a light frown as Jamie exits the spare room - his room, and starts down the hall. His posture is reluctant and closed-off, moving like he’s coated in the same lead that Ted is, and he makes the trip slowly. It’s hard to tell if the lethargic pace is due to pain or something else, and the thought makes Ted’s heart skip a beat.

When he reaches the doorway to Ted’s room, Jamie hesitates outside of it. The pause only lasts for a moment and then the boy is walking across the threshold and directly over to the side of the bed. Jamie is silent as he crawls up onto the mattress to Ted’s right, laying down facing the wall with his arms folded over his chest and going very, very still.

Book now entirely forgotten, Ted looks at Jamie and waits for him to say something, to reveal what it is he came here for, what he needs or wants. Nothing of the sort happens. Jamie doesn’t do anything at all. He doesn’t get up and leave but he doesn’t move any closer to Ted either. He doesn’t ask for anything, doesn’t make a sound. Jamie just lays there, facing the wall, curled in on himself and motionless - and putting all the pressure squarely on his bad shoulder, too. It has to ache something fierce, even with the painkillers the doctors sent him home with.

Ted’s heart hurts in his chest looking at him - literally. It literally, physically hurts. He watches the boy for a while, unsure what to do, his sternum throbbing and worry heavy and thick in his lungs. Jamie still doesn’t do anything, doesn’t say anything or move at all, though he’s too rigid to have fallen asleep. His arms are tucked tight against his chest, giving the impression of someone who is holding himself in a mimicry of someone else doing so.

That’s the thought that finally prompts Ted to take some kind of action. He can’t bear it any longer, watching the boy there and knowing that he needs something but not knowing what, and so he reaches out. The hand that he settles on the stiff crest of Jamie’s shoulder is slow and cautious, not wanting to do the wrong thing and spook or hurt the kid. All Ted gets in response is a muted, suffocated flinch - one he knows by now is far from an actual indication on its own that Jamie doesn’t want to be touched. There’s a subtle pressure against Ted’s palm that confirms the suspicion, even as Jamie’s body shudders with a laboured, tremulous breath - Jamie is leaning back against the hand on his shoulder.

Doing his best not to jostle either of them, Ted slides down the headboard a bit, pillow bunching behind him to create a support for the new, no longer upright angle. With gentle pressure and an abundance of care, Ted slips his hand from Jamie’s upper shoulder down to the other one, the one jammed into the mattress. He pulls at Jamie gingerly, guiding the kid around to face him and cross the gap between them, ever mindful of the pain he must be in, even still. Ted can’t stop seeing it in his mind: the permanent mental image of Jamie’s whipped back, the wounds now hidden by his shirt. The inescapable and acute awareness of the welts, the broken skin, leaves Ted as cautious as if he is handling spun glass as he curls an arm around Jamie, settling the boy in against his chest.

Jamie goes readily and without a hint of a fight. He leans himself fully into Ted’s side, his forehead pressed against Ted’s collarbone, though his hands stay tucked up in fists between them, not reaching out or holding on. Ted can feel the fabric of his shirt warm with Jamie’s heavy, ragged breaths. He isn’t crying but he is shaking, trembling all over and breathing like he’s just run a marathon as he lays, boneless and almost desperate, against Ted.

Normally, it’s a struggle for Ted to keep quiet. He doesn’t handle silences well and he never has, but this is an exception. It’s not that he enjoys the silence, really, he finds it just as disconcerting as he always does, but his brain is empty of things to say. So, because he can’t think of anything and because Jamie isn’t talking either, he doesn’t say anything at all. Ted just cradles him, holding the kid as tight as he dares to when the increase in pressure only prompts Jamie to press closer in turn, and thinks about how still he’d been when he first laid down - still and silent, facing the wall.

Jamie had not asked for this. He hadn’t reached out to be hugged, or asked to cuddle, or anything of the sort - and of course he didn’t. He had just laid there on the bedspread next to Ted, getting as close and taking as much as he dared.

It’s devastating to think about. He’s a kid. He’s just a kid, just sixteen years old, and Ted remembers being that age with a sharp and vivid clarity. Sometimes he wishes that he didn’t, but he remembers, and when you’re sixteen and something terrible happens to you, something annihilating happens to you, sometimes you need your mom or dad to hold you. And isn’t that something that Jamie probably has all but no experience with, huh. Not when his mom’s been gone for years and his dad- Well. Suffice to say it’s no shock he hadn’t been able to ask for what he needed, ask to be held.