#(judgemental but affectionately so)

[lazycranberrydoodles]

they are so in love and disgusting and also sarcastic bitches. follow for more / prev comic / next comic

[shorthaltsjester]

me as an imogen’s selfishness built from her isolation is one of the most interesting things about her truther (which, before someone vagues me on twitter . i don’t think this doesn’t mean she can’t and hasn’t been altruistic but that’s a separate post) + someone who loves when my favourite characters have their lives threatened and/or they die. i am eating well after last night’s ep.

as someone who cares for the world of exandria and despises everytime ashton opens his mouth about the gods and clocked into ashton and ludinus wearing the same hat a while ago . having to listen to them talk about how they’re better than ludinus because (checks notes) they want to do exactly what ludinus wants to but their motives (the exact same kind of trauma that made him tell ludinus to “grow up” . me BEGGING him to take his own advice) are better ??? i’m not eating as well but what can you do.

my grip on this campaign as a completionist who Is enjoying cr even if i don’t think this is a particularly strong campaign is truly resting on the shoulders of imogen impulsive-and-single-minded temult, fearne “if the world’s burning i want a front row seat” calloway, orym “only member of the group capable of a thought for the ‘little guys’ the party claims to stand for” of the air ashari, and chet who is there for vibes (and to protect his family). also shout out to braius for joining the one party where betraying them would make him easily break into the top 3 morally upstanding members of the party.

[kamisadopteddaughter]

Dominik:

[starryeyed-seer]

chapter 5 of Creatures of Heaven means I get to do a lot of inversions <3

[khihi]

imo joker out are balkan kpop men

this made me laugh but i cannot tell if this is (derogatory) or (affectionate)... also i dont know enough about kpop to actually draw any similarities, sorry :( other than the fact they're in their modelling era at the moment

if u meant this in an affectionate/funny way pls come back and explain the similarities lol

[calico-kiwi]

i’ve recently learning that a lot of people found Alice in Wonderland an either upsetting, disturbing, or creepy movie when they watched it as a kid, while I as a little child was absolutely enamored with it

interesting…

[abba-enthusiast]

God the first episode of germany’s next topmodel is a goddamn gift from god

[windyremedy]

stressful shenanigans

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

scenario: your husband’s reaction when your child tells you to “shut up” wasn’t what you expected.

Keitaro Bakugou had always been a troublesome child but not in the way that others might assume. Yes appearance wise he’s practically a carbon copy of his father and yes he’s loud and confident as well but he’s also very much like his mother, mischievous. So when you brought up the idea of pranking his father he was all in.

While you two were plotting, your dear husband was with your youngest and oldest boys. All sat around the living room enjoying each others presence with him reading a book (yes with glasses) and your children playing a co-op video game.

The plan you two came up with was that he would tell you shut up when you nagged him about his chores or something. It was actually your idea to do this one in particular since you saw it circling around TikTok awhile ago. So he shouldn’t know about the trend but then again he wouldn’t have known anyways since he doesn’t really use the app. Kei was a lot more hesitant in executing this plan not necessarily worried about his dad’s reaction but more so on how you’d feel. But after you explained to him that you know it’s not malicious in any way he agreed.

So to set the scene he stormed out the door, putting more pressure in his steps basically stomping downstairs.

“I SAID I’LL DO IT LATER!!!” he yelled out loud immediately capturing the attention of his brothers and father.

The oldest, Ryuu, looked at him with pure judgement as Kei glared or tried to at your crossed arms figure. Takeshi the youngest had a confused expression, and Katsuki although was astonished at the audacity of Kei’s attitude (as if he wouldn’t have gotten it from him if it’s the case) was mostly wondering why he was shouting at you when out of the three brats he was the most mama’s boy there was.

“Kei I’m telling you to clean your room now.” you said with finality in your tone.

“So what? It’s my room I’ll clean it when I want to.” he groaned turning around.

At that Katsuki had already closed his book and stood up ready to intervene.

“You need to listen to me Kei—“

“Can you just shut up already!” he shouts raising his voice in a manner he doesn’t ever typically reach if at all.

Then a deafening silence echoes throughout the usually loud household with Ryuu gripping onto his controller looking like he wanted to knock some sense into his brother and Takeshi’s eyes widening as his mouth hung slightly open at the disrespect being displayed. On the other hand Katsuki seemed to shift to his pro hero mode, serious and unwavering purpose to set things right.

“Keitaro Bakugou I know you did not just shout at your mother like that.” he spoke firmly, devoided of its usual warmth.

He stalked closer to the unmoving boy. “—that’s your room right? well this is our house and if you want to keep living here I suggest you apologize to your mother right now—“

Before he could scold Kei any further you stepped in placing a hand around his abdomen.

“Wait! wait— Kats he’s just joking, we’re just joking.” you intervened now fully hugging his side as your accomplice gives him a nervous grin.

Ever so clever Katsuki immediately connected the dots, just exasperated at both your antics.

“You two are gonna be the death of me.” returning your hug and affectionally grabbing Kei around the neck to join.

“I should’ve known, Kei’s bad at acting.” Ryuu mentions from behind as Takeshi nods in agreement.

“Yeah, he’s also bad at Minecraft.”

Having heard that Kei threw his head up from his parents arms, trying to defend himself while recoinciling with his father.

“The creeper crept up on me!”

“Oh really? I wouldn’t have guessed.” Ryuu sarcastically answered.

As the three kids continued to argue or well— two oldest as the youngest one encourages the feud. Bakugou broke off from the hug and put Kei with the other two on the couch. Noticing their father’s disapproval at their little quarrel they quieted down.

“You three should know better than to argue with us infront of you. As punishment you’re gonna go to your grandparents tonight.”

The trio blinked up at him in confusion. They’d always argue at times even when you two were around and never got this so called penalty.

“How is that a punishment?” Kei asked in genuine perplexity.

“Well it ain’t really so much for you, m’ just gonna have a long talk with your mother tonight. Can’t have her encouraging this kinda behavior.” he fauxed a grave appearance as he glanced at you with a different intention unknown to the boys.

Oh you were in for it now.

You are so fucked.

©windyremedy

[apricot-blossomss]

☛ the moment they realize they are in love with f! reader [apollo, eros, hermes, ares x reader]

☀️ APOLLO falls for you when he hears you sing

☛ there was nothing you would rather do on a sunday afternoon than have an exhausted god resting on your lap and running your fingers through his hair. right after coming home from his godly duties, apollo had swept you away to this remote flower field in the mortal realm. a glistening stream splashed lightly in your ears as you watched apollo, the way the sun kissed his cheeks and showed his freckles, the way he seemed to glow with a golden hue. his divinity on full display, and at the same time, the visible tiredness made him look more human.

subconsciously, you started humming a tune. a lullaby for your sleeping god as your fingers drew small circles on his scalp. in his slumber, a little huff left his lips that fanned your wrist and you smiled affectionately. it was almost too natural, the way your tune turned into a melody and the way that your humming turned into words, but you couldn't help a grin when you serrated to sing in a low voice. "here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo, here comes the sun..."

when apollo was around, poets got inspired, artists creative and people couldn't get catchy melodies out of their heads. wherever he went, he often left the mortals singing and dancing. if he did not say so himself, his voice was ethereal, the most beautiful tune one's ear could ever be blessed with, captivating, divine, amazing. he used to think his was and would always be the most perfect voice in the world, but the one filling his ears as he slowly regained consciousness shook him to his very core.

it only took him a few seconds to realize he was listening to you, singing to him. though a little hushed, your voice was stunning to him, the most ethereal tune and he was definitely not biased. you were ethereal. feeling your soft fingers in his hair, listening to your melodic voice, it was heaven to him. when he carefully cracked his eyes open, you were hovering over him with your adoring eyes and beautiful smile.

as soon as he opened his eyes though, you fell silent and averted your eyes. unfortunately, you misinterpreted his frown for judgement of your very much imperfect vocal abilities and your embarrassment worsened even further. to sing in the presence of the god of music- what had you been thinking? "sorry," you chuckled and looked away, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"why'd you stop?" surprised, you looked down at the god and swallowed, seeing his clear green eyes. wondering how to convey the obvious, that being your mediocre singing abilities, you big your lip and looked away, when you heard him hum. his voice was a soft, melodic whisper until he started to gently continue the tune. "little darlin', it's been a long, cold, lonely winter. little darlin', it feels like years since it's been here" his voice stunned you. it was beyond beautiful, beyond pleasing. when you began to well up at it's perfection, you felt silly, but your heart clenched and fluttered hearing him sing.

but he didn't continue, looking at you expectantly, like he was waiting for you to do something. correctly interpreting his body language, you gasped. "no-"

"yes!" he cut you off, sounding delighted and a little deranged. with one fluid motion, he sat up and reached for your clasping hands.

"you should be ashamed of yourself, that you want me to embarrass myself like that," you snorted and looked to the side, avoiding eye contact. "truly, you are cruel."

"embarrass yourself?" he asked, and again with those furrowed brows. "darling, that was beautiful."

light, warm fingers came up to trace your features gently and you saw no lie in his eyes. "you are biased," you accused him and pushed against his chest because him being so near made you unable to think straight. like a strong parfume, sweet but messing with all other senses.

"maybe," apollo smiled. he was resting on his back once more and he hadn't once enjoyed being pushed into a flower field like right now. "but that's how I hear it. and, last time i checked, i'm still the god if music so i would say i have some authority in the matter." his finger came up to trace your lips and his gaze got so heavy and so ... heated that blood shot like hot water into your cheeks. "sing with me?"

well, how could you possibly refuse him when he was looking at you like that? "i- but only a little," you said, feeling shy. "and if you make fun of me I swear, I will never sing again!"

"what a loss for the world and, more importantly, for me that would be," the sun god smiled and his eyes trailed down to your lips. "well, then.. sing, lover"

and when you gave up your resolve and sang the refrain with him, his heart burst with giddiness and he knew; he was head over heels in love with you.

💘EROS falls for you when you give him valentine chocolates

☛ valentine's day was the busiest day of the year for eros, so it was no surprise that he arrived late to your date when he usually was the first of you two at everything. after he spammed your phone with a thousand apology texts about how he was a horrible date and offering to drown himself in tartarus for eternity if you asked for it, he did manage to get his job done for the day and was now sprinting towards you, nearly trampling a satyr waiter of the cafe you a made a reservation at.

at least the view of him toppling over and trying not to destroy the valentine decorations with his wings was easing your nerves a little. you had been fawning over the god for a while now and when he asked you out two days ago, you nearly combusted with excitement. at the same time, though, eros had the tendency to make you very flustered. even though you had known him for years, your breath still got shaky and your hands sweaty whenever he so much as smiled at you.

like right now, when he spotted you from across the room and sent a bashful smirk your way. Under the table, your hands tightened around the heart-shaped box of valentine chocolates and you beamed back, unable to contain the happiness you felt.

"i am so unspeakably sorry i'm late," he panted upon arriving at the table. checking his reflection in the nearby mirror subtly, he ran his hand through his bronze locks and flashed you a seductive grin, though he still seemed a little out of breath. "tell me how to make it up to you."

"you're only ten minutes late," you smiled as your insides fluttered. his damn smile made your stomach do cartwheels.

"ten minutes i didn't get to spend with you," he argued and only now let his gaze wonder over the parts of your body visible. "love, you look beautiful. can't believe i've missed out on this sight"

damn charmer.

"speaking of beautiful," he continued and reached down to pull a giant flower bouquet out of nowhere, in your favorite color. "though it doesn't come close to your beauty, it reminded me of you."

by now you were just as red as the rose decorations. shyly, you stretched your arms out over the table to take the bouquet. "busy day?" you asked, placing it beside you and picking out a particularly colorful flower to put behind your ear.

"you would not believe how many arrows i shot today," he said, reaching over to take your hand over the table. "apparently, everyone is just as head over heels for a wonderful person in their life as I am"

you didn't know what in the world to answer with. a love declaration? just smiling? saying thank you? you opted instead to reach under the table and pull out the valentines chocolates. it was a pink box, you picked it specifically because it had a little cupid drawing on top. "i hope you like chocolates."

"oh, i love-" eros gaze dropped to the heart shaped box and suddenly, his heart seized. as if he had just been shot by his own arrow. you had given him valentine chocolates. cute. he couldn't explain why his tummy exploded with butterflies at the simple action but he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. he had to remember to breathe and when he did, he breathed out "-you."

🪽HERMES falls for you when you kiss him on the cheek

☛ "when are you finished?" hermes whined for the fifth time in the last minute and pulled his lips into a pout. the only acknowledgment coming from you was a deadpan stare over the edge of your book. not only had he come by unannounced and without a reason, now he was annoying you in your scheduled reading time. and as if that wasn't bad enough, he also looked so cute doing it you felt the urge to kick his face that currently invaded your private zone by burying itself in your tummy.

"come back in half an hour and maybe i'll be finished then," you murmured, already invested in your book again.

"half an hour?!" hermes cried dramatically and sneaked his arms around your waist. "but I'm busy!"

"hm, is that right?" you sighed and nudged his shoulder. "get back to work and leave me alone, then."

"come on," he said and a sly smile took over his face. "dont'cha want to come with me? fly over a few countries, live in the flash for a day... it would be far more exciting than your book!"

"my book is very exciting," you mumbled, already caught up in the story again. not for long, though, as hermes began to complain under his breath, muffled by your belly that still served as his pillow. you peaked past your book and couldn't help but find the sight utterly endearing. when he looked up, you quickly hid behind your book again and heard him laugh.

your face burned up when the affectionate god sat up, only to prop himself down next to you and lean his head on your shoulder. "do you know for how long you have been reading this one page? ten minutes,"

"oh, and why might that be?" you grinned, though his teasing tone tinted your cheeks pink. "maybe because this pain-in-the-ass of a god won't leave me alone."

"admit it, you have fallen for me," he retorted, poking your side with his deft fingers. "and you will miss me dearly when i am gone, impatiently awaiting my return so i can whisk you away as i do in your daydreams."

"well, you are quite the dreamer," you mused and put your book down. "let's make a deal. today i read this book, tomorrow i am all yours. 'mkay?" and to silence any further protests, you pressed a kiss to his cheek and pushed him off the bed.

you expected a retort, another teasing comment, anything, which was why you were confused by the following silence. looking over the edge of your bed, you found him sitting there, looking up at you dumb-struck and with very rosy cheeks. the spot where you had kissed him tingled and hermes head was wiped clean of any funny reply, just full of you, you, you and the feeling of your lips on his cheek.

"i- okay," he finally managed to say and walked over to your windows with weak knees. falling for him my ass. he was head over heels in love with you.

🗡️ARES falls for you when you slap someone

☛ your smile was so tight your cheekbones were aching, but you kept your calm. if ares, who would yell at a pigeon staring at him in the park and almost give your mom a heart attack when he started a fight at the last family get-together you invited him to, could restrain himself right now, you could as well. firsthand, you knew how protective ares was of his friends and family, you belonging to the former. for him to not remodel the face of your ex whom your mom had invited to her birthday party and who had cheated on you twice, it had to take a lot of meditation and begging from you.

but now it looked like you were about to violate your own principles. by violating the absolute train wreck of a bad person that was your ex. luckily, ares was in some other corner of the room, having a stare-down with your dad, but you felt like you could mess this man up real good even without his help. you were really not one for violence -ignoring the odd choice of plus one- but right now you felt rage burn inside you as this pathetic excuse of a man tried to rile you up to boost his ego.

"listen, i think i'm going to go grab me a drink now," you said, overplaying your anger with a stiff politeness this piece of trash didn't deserve. "nice talk."

"yeah, whatever," the guy drawled. "back to that hunk of a date you brought, huh? i see your going for the looks now. not that you ever cared about anything else, you girls are all the same."

"if i was going off of looks i would have never dated you," you bit back and turned around to leave when his sweaty hand closed around your wrist tightly. "hey, let go!" you hissed but he didn't budge, only stepping closer so all you could smell was his excessive deodorant.

"what, does he fuck better than me?" he snarled and lowered his voice. the hand that wasn't holding your wrist hostage wandered down your back where you definitely didn't want it. "wanna give it a second try?"

SMACK

before you yourself knew it, you had struck him across the face with your free hand, resulting in a sound that made the room fall silent, all eyes in you two. as your ex stumbled back, he let go of your wrist and you locked eyes with ares, expecting him to jump at the opportunity for a fight. but instead, you only saw him looking at you, with a sort of awe-struck expression that really didn't suit the occasion.

you lifted your chin, shouldered your purse and brushed past ares as you hastily walked towards the exit. ares had to collect himself before following you. your anger, that fire in your eyes, the way you had struck this pathetic mortal man- it was more than hot. oh he definitely was in love with you. he would deal with this piece of crap later. now, all he wanted was to follow you to his car, follow you anywhere, as long as it was with you.

[mandukkul]

Weird Boyfriend — ot7

synopsis: things your Enhypen boyfriend does

tags: bf!ot7 x f!reader, crack/ humour

warning: none

word count: n/a

likes + comments appreciated

author's note: Thank you for 1k followers! i know i don't actively post on here because its a hobby account but i seriously am so grateful for for all the support!!

#°❀⋆manny's 1k celebration event .ೃ࿔*:･

희승 | heeseung

- has toxic league humour running in his veins

- don’t let his cool sexy hot guy persona fool you

- one time you caught him on YOUR twitter account OLBITERATING his own haters

- lich got you banned on twitter for saying kys your mums a hoe!

- thank god he doesn’t know how to dox or else he’d abuse that shit out of that ability

제이 | jay

- actually tends to drown you out on instinct now

- NOT BECAUSE HE DOESNT LOVE YOU

- but you seriously talk so much and about so many different things

- your ability to switch from one topic to another is uncanny so he’s bound to miss a few things

- plus he can’t waste good memory storage on the 100 reasons why superheroes are just grown adults with accepted fursonas

데잌크 | jake

- is so smart and yet lowk so dumb

- like his brain just turns off around you and you don’t know if you feel happy that he feels comfortable around you or sad that he makes you do all the thinking

- playing fire boy and water girl would suck! because you’re yelling at him to wait for you because he can’t jump over the green liquid but bro is nawt listening and thinks he can raw dog it (he doesn’t)

- makes you rage quit!

- also the type to say “babe i just found this awesome new underground artist i think you’d love them”

- and it’s like rex orange county or soemthing 😭

성훈 | sunghoon

- leaves a message that only appears when the mirror fogs up

- something like “you’re stunning”

- also leaves cute messages around the for you to find.

- “you got this!” “you’re the best!” “you’re so handsome” “you are so strong and buff!”

- okay that was a bit weird but you love sunghoon regardless

- you bring it up with him and he laughs like it’s the smartest idea in the world

- only, his laugh seems a bit too genuine

- turns out he’s been leaving those messages around for himself.

- #can’tgoadaywithoutmydailyaffirmations!

선우 | sunoo

- lowk a diva

- gets mad when you don’t want to go and get a sweet treat with him

“im just too full, get one without me”

- fuck off. and he sulks until you cave in.

- when you bring him around on shopping days with your friends, he ends up gossiping with them and shopping and you’re just standing there like YOUR the bf being forced to walk around and follow them

- at least he ends up getting ALL the tea and you debrief at home

정윈 | jungwon

- lowk judgemental but loves you so much so don’t take it to heart

- like you bite his bicep and he gives you a look that’s akin to killing all his future hypothetical bloodline

- or pull on his teeth

- or pick his nose

- like stop being a weirdo (affectionate)

- but then he says outrageous shit

“okay but like what if we fuse, i would totally be satisfied with life if i lived under your skin” “wonnie… you aren’t going to skin me alive… right?“what? no i just want to crawl under your skin, i think it’d be warm, and snuggly”

- you may do weird shit but he says weird shit

- “i just want you to stop saying odd shit”

- but don’t be fooled, he still judges you with a loving look

니키 | niki

- fake ass emo!

- spends at least 20 minutes posing to take a good selfie for you and sends it to you and actively checks if you seen it

- and when you do see it, acts like he “just took it randomly” LIKE WE KNOW YOU VOGUED THAT SHIT RELAX

- tries to act nonchalant when you give him a dry ass reply:

“okay, riks, whatever you say”

- JUST BELIEVE HIM FOR YOUR OWN SAKE

- one time on call, he caught himself using his higher register

- so next sentence he drops like 2 octaves and acts like it’s his normal voice

“and so i totally think big chill is the hottest alien out of ben’s arsenal” “yeah 👹” “????”

- gaslights you to thinking that’s what he sounded like the whole time

- also, would give you a thousand yard stare if you take a photo of his left side

[pinkslipxox]

Fitting Room Fling:

Summary: Billie eats you out in a fitting room 🥵❤️

Warnings: smut 🙈🥰😘

——————————————————————————

As you stroll through the mall, the air buzzes with excitement, filled with the chatter of fellow shoppers and the enticing aroma of fresh coffee wafting from a nearby café. Your hand intertwines with Billie’s, the warmth of her grasp grounding you as you move in and out from store to store. Shopping is your passion, and today, with Billie by your side, every moment feels like a little slice of heaven.

So far, you are quite happy with your purchases— new makeup from Sephora, a purse from Coach, two sunglasses from Prada, and four pairs of shoes from Louis Voiutton. Although you’ve insisted that you pay yourself, Billie, ever the gentleman, ensures that your material needs are paid for before you can even protest.

“Please, Bills… one more store,” you plead, pulling her arm as you walk towards the boutique.

Billie gently tugs back, her brows knitting in concern. “Babe, we really need to keep an eye on the time,” she says firmly but she keeps her voice soft. “I have to be at the studio soon.”

You pout slightly, feeling a mix of disappointment and determination. “Just one more store, please? I promise it won’t take long!���

With a sigh, Billie pulls her phone out and checks the time. “Alright, alright, but we’re leaving in fifteen minutes,” she concedes, much to your delight, and a grin spreads across your face, and your heart warms at her concession.

The two of you head inside the next boutique, decorated with soft hues and high-end threads. You browse the racks, inspired by each gorgeous piece of clothing. As you look through the clothing, you can feel Billie’s presence behind you. You can’t help but feel a little guilty, knowing that time is not entirely on your side.

Finally, you find a stunning dress—a flowing, ethereal piece that seems to shine under the boutique lights. “Billie! Look at this!” You hold it up, your excitement unmistakable. Her gaze travels from the dress to your beaming face, and for a moment, her impatience fades, replaced by a softness that is unmistakably hers.

“It’s beautiful, Y/N,” she praises, and there’s a spark in her voice that tells you how much she loves seeing you happy. “But we really should—”

“Just a quick try-on? Please, Billie?” you plead, already making your way to the fitting room before she can finish her sentence.

You slip into the dress, the material sliding against your skin. It feels luxurious and you admire your reflection, twirling slightly to catch the way it flows. The dress clings to your curves perfectly and it accentuates a delicate hint of cleavage. You love it. And you’re positive that Billie will love it as well.

“Y/N!” Billie’s voice echoes inside the fitting room, and there is a hint of urgency mixed with her usually affectionate tone in her voice. You hear her footsteps walk towards the room that you’re in, and she knocks on the door. “Come on, we have to go! Finneas will kick my ass if I’m late.”

Taking a deep breath, you unlock the door, and you find yourself standing face to face with your girlfriend. Billie’s breath hitches and she looks at you up and down, her eyes filled with admiration and desire.

“What do you think?” you purr, loving the reaction from your girlfriend.

“Damn,” she murmurs, biting her lip. “You look incredible.” Billie’s voice is husky, practically making your heart skip a beat. She moves closer, her hands resting on your waist as she leans in, planting soft kisses along your neck and collarbone, making you melt against her.

You sigh softly, reveling in her touch and the warmth that courses through you. Certain thoughts begin to cloud your judgement. Then you remember where you are.

“Billie…” you whimper, “not here, my love. We’re in public…”

Billie only groans in response, and she takes a another step forward. You take the hint and go back inside the fitting room. The door is closed and locked behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the privacy of the small space. You find yourself pressed up against the wall, Billie’s hold on your waist tighter, and her touches more bold and deliberate.

“We’ve got time,” Billie murmurs, her voice low and warm that sends a shiver down your spine. “Bet I can make you cum in five minutes.”

Oh, you know she can.

“Can you really?” you can’t help but tease her, and Billie growls.

“Hell yeah I can, mama,” she counters, determination laced in her voice. Your heart races as her lips graze your neck, sending delightful shivers down your spine. Her kisses are soft yet possessive, trailing across your collarbone, leaving a path of warmth that makes you yearn for more.

“Then do it,” you hum, tilting your head back for access, and Billie chuckles.

“Then you’re going to have to be quiet,” she whispers in your ear, and she gently takes your earlobe between her teeth, nipping at it.

Her eyes never leave your as she sinks down to her knees. Your breath hitches in your throat as she leans in, her warm mouth exploring you with a delicious intensity. Billie grips your hips, anchoring you as she skillfully works her magic, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Billie, yes…” you breathe out, losing yourself in the bliss of her ministrations. She smirks against your skin, savoring each reaction, each sound that escapes you. Her tongue dances on your skin with exquisite precision, every flick and caress driving you over the edge.

You bite down on your lower lip as Billie continues to pleasure you, her mouth devouring your core oh-so-heavenly. It takes everything in you not to scream as Billie plunges her tongue deeper, exploring the softness of your folds, reveling in the taste of your intoxicating sweetness. You grip the back of her neck, urging her on, and she responds in kind, her tongue swirling deliciously on your throbbing clit.

You feel yourself nearing that sweet release, a thrill igniting deep within you. “Billie, I can’t hold on much longer,” you gasp, and she responds with a devoted intensity, pushing you completely over the edge. Billie hums in acknowledgment, the vibrations sending a jolt of ecstasy through you.

The pleasure crashes over you in waves, a beautiful symphony of bliss that fills the room, leaving you in a blissful haze. You’re breathless, your body trembling as you feel her smile against your skin, still lavishing you with tender kisses.

Once the waves of pleasure subside, Billie rises from her knees, and she molds her lips with your in a gentle yet passionate kiss. You moan softly into her mouth, tasting the lingering arousal, and she pulls back with a satisfied look on her face. God, you love this woman.

“You drive me crazy, pretty girl,” she murmurs, adoration and love evident in her voice. “But I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

You giggle, her words making your heart flutter. Then you remember— the time! Realization hits you like a ton of bricks and you begin to panic.

“Billie… we’re late!” you gasp, but to your surprise, Billie shrugs nonchalantly.

“Fuck the studio,” she murmurs, her voice returning to a husky whisper. Then, with a smirk curling on her lips, she says, “I’d rather fuck you.”

Before you can say anything, Billie turns you around, your chest pressed against the wall. You whimper as you feel the bulge of her strap press up against your ass. All you can do is surrender, and you can’t wait for what happens next.

[urmom3001]

George Weasley's Crush on

Y/n Longbottom

Summary: The five times George Weasley realises he really likes Y/n Longbottom, a confident, smart girl to her opposite counterpart, Neville. And, the one time he did something about it to seal the deal. 

Warnings!: Fem!Reader, Hufflepuff!Reader, Mostly fluff, nothing really. 

W.C: 6.0k

1, Year 4, 1993

For the first two years of her little brother’s career at Hogwarts, Y/n tried to keep her distance from him– per his request. He was a young boy, just starting his amazing magical career, and Y/n understood that he wanted to flourish by himself while she idly stood by watching him struggle to do just that. She never lost faith that he would though. 

Now, it wasn’t like they hadn’t interacted, of course they talked throughout the year, and studied in the library together. However, being in different houses helped with the distance that Neville wanted to keep. Y/n was a Hufflepuff, the house a lot of people thought Neville should’ve been placed in. Y/n thought otherwise, she trusted in the Sorting Hat’s judgement very deeply, her loyalty never faltered. 

Y/n loved her brother endlessly, and was happy to oblige with whatever wishes the boy had. So when Sirius Black had miraculously escaped from Azkaban prison over the summer, and Neville had insisted they would stay close together in fear of the man, she was glad to do just that to make him feel comfortable. She knew exactly why he was terrified, Sirius Black was the cousin of Bellatrix Lestrange, their parents’ torturer. 

While Neville had been the one to request her to stay away, he was also the one who gravitated towards her when he felt afraid–which was half of his time at Hogwarts. Y/n would never deny him anything, she was his big sister, how could she ever? So, even though they were not together for most of their time at Hogwarts, they had been seen around each other to note that they were in fact siblings, it was a mystery how none of his fellow lions seemed to realise it. 

It was the first breakfast of the term, the Longbottom siblings walked down the aisle arm in arm, hooked intertwined with each other. “Do you think Sirius Black would ever try to enter the castle?” 

“I highly doubt it, Nev. The castle is protected by talented Professors, it’d be an idiotic mistake to attempt to.” Y/n logically answered, visibly calming her brother’s nerves as they walked through the grand doors of the Great Hall. Y/n was very good at grounding Neville when he was feeling especially anxious. Y/n walked Neville down all the way to the Gryffindor table where his friends resided. “Alright, Neville, I’ll be off at Hufflepuff table, I’ll meet you at the courtyard for lunch, okay?” 

Neville nodded. “Alright.” Y/n nodded happily, before kissing Neville on the forehead, and turning her heel to leave. Neville went pink of embarrassment, one of the reasons he had asked Y/n to keep her distance was because she was very affectionate, hugs, and kisses on the cheek and forehead were her go to greetings, and biddings. Not that he minded, however things that seem little in private, and the comfort of your home seem different under the gazing eyes of your peers. 

Neville brushed it off, and sat down. “Morning guys.” He was now seated across from Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, and Ron’s older twin brothers Fred, and George. 

“Morning, Neville.” Ginny Weasley chimed from beside him, Hermione Granger echoed her one seat down. 

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Neville?” Said Ron, through his mouth of sausage. 

Neville, Ginny, and Hermione looked bewildered staring back at Ron. “Girlfriend?” Neville asked. 

Fred, and George looked at each other knowingly. “The Hufflepuff that just dropped you off.” Fred teased. 

“Meeting you in the courtyard for lunch?” George raised his eyebrows in amusement. He was quite a bit jealous of Neville, the Hufflepuff he had never seen before was quite gorgeous to him. The four boys laughed, and Neville looked at Ginny, and Hermione. 

“That’s his sister!” Ginny cackled, and shook her head. 

“Sister?” All of the boys said in a synchronised surprise, how is it that they’d known Neville for three years now, and had never known he had a sister?

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Do you ever pay attention? Her name is literally Y/n Longbottom. Honestly.”

“Older, or younger?” George asked, he was trying to see if it was appropriate to grow a crush on the girl. 

“She’s a fourth-year.” Neville answered. “We’re together all of the time…” Sure they hadn’t spent every waking moment together, but they were together enough to put two, and two together that they were related. Longbottom was a particularly easy name to miss. 

“A fourth-year?” Ron repeated. 

“Yes, Ron, he just said.” Fred jokes, causing them to laugh. But George was distracted, his eyes across the room looking at the boy’s brother. She was gorgeous, and there was something about her that made him want to find out more. He knew her last name, and that she was a Hufflepuff, but that was just about it.

“Oi, Georgie’s staring.” Lee whispered to Fred. Fred looked at his brother, and followed his gaze. 

“No way…” Fred whispered to Lee, Fred sat in between the two. “Georgie’s got it for Neville’s older sister!” 

After the first day of term, George had started to see the girl everywhere, in places he had never noticed her before. 

He began to notice her when she walked past the Gryffindor table with her friends in the mornings, and afternoons. He saw her on his way to Potions in the corridors while she was on the way to her next class as well. And most of all, in the library– well exiting the library when he was on his way back to the common room from Quidditch practice. He began to make it a point to try and see her whenever he could during these times. It was a small, simple crush, one he figured he would let go of once he realised she was the type of girl that would never give him the time of day for his personality that was seen as immature, and loud. 

George Weasley, and Y/n Longbottom were opposites, totally, and completely. 

2, Year 5, 1994

George Weasley thought that his crush on Y/n Longbottom would dwindle, but no…oh no. 

During the summer he hadn’t given her much thought, but once he saw her at the train station on September 1st, he remembered why he had liked her so much. She was glowing, and was with Neville. He berated himself for nor noticing her sooner. 

“Oi.” Fred whispered. “You’re staring.” 

George furrowed his eyebrows. “Am not.” 

“Are too.” Fred teased. 

“So what?” George rolled his eyes as they stepped onto the train. 

“So. You’ve got a crush on Y/n Longbottom.” Fred chuckled. 

“It’s not a crush…” George looked back onto the line of students waiting to also board the train. Her, and her brother were just a few students down from himself, and his own brother. “She’s just–” George tried to find the words. “Intriguing.” 

“So…you like her.” Fred shook his head, and shared a look with Lee. 

“Oh, he’s got it bad.” Lee snickered. 

Later on in the train ride, George really, really had to go pee. He wasn’t sure why he had held it for so long. Perhaps it was his extremely short attention span that made him put it off, afterall the conversation he, Fred, and Lee were having was quite remarkable. A conversation of which Slytherins they were to prank this year, and the mysterious “event” that was going to occur at Hogwarts. 

He was walking down the aisle extremely fast to get to the lavatory at the end of the aisle, that was so close, yet so far. He was walking so fast that he didn’t realise one of the compartment doors had opened, and a girl had walked out. In his defense, the girl was not looking into the hall either, and would not have seen the redhead that was zooming to the bathroom because her head was turned to her friend.

Of course, as all people do when they aren’t paying attention to their surroundings, the boy, and the girl crashed into each other. The girl George crashed into? Y/n Longbottom. Great, George thought to himself, not only did he need to pee extremely badly, he had also just embarrassed himself in front of the girl he had a raging crush on. 

The girl, being so different in body mass from him, fell straight to the floor. George was mortified. “I am so sorry–” Until she started laughing. It was melodic, and George could've sworn he’d just heard a chorus of angels sing. George let out a hand for her to take. 

She continued to laugh while she took it. “It’s alright. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” She sighed, dusting herself off. 

George looked at her, no, not looked, inspected. He could not believe how that just played out. There was a moment of awkward silence, George forgetting how to function completely, even the feeling of the uncomfortable need to pee was gone. Finally he realised he hadn’t even checked on her. “Are you okay?” He asked, hoping she didn’t notice the effect she had on him. 

She nodded. “Nothing but a bruise on my bum, I’m sure.” She joked. She hadn’t really hit the floor that hard, she was fine. 

George nodded, and began to walk backwards. “Sorry again.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” She shook her head, with a small smile. A small smile that went a long way for George, as his cheeks went pink once he turned around to make his way towards the lavatory again. 

Of course, there was a line he could now see as he approached. He curiously looked back, just to see if Y/n was still in the aisle. He wasn’t expecting her to be just a few paces behind him. He now realised she needed to use the restroom too. He internally panicked. Things had just been adding up, he needed to pee extremely badly, he had just practically knocked the wind out of the girl he had a very big crush on, and now after just knocking her over, had to stand in line for the bathroom with her. 

George gulped now that she was caught up to him, and standing in the line as well. He leaned on the wall, and looked up before huffing. “Are you okay?” He wasn’t expecting her to make conversation. 

He looked down at her, she looked really concerned. She could definitely sense his uncomfortableness. He nodded. “I feel like I should be asking you that, considering–” He wasn’t trying to make her laugh, but she let out a small chuckle. 

“You don’t have to worry about that. I'm a-okay, I promise.” She reassured him. The conversation went idle, before George gathered up his courage to keep it moving. 

“You’re Neville’s older sister, Y/n right?” Smooth George, ask her questions you know the answer to already, he mentally berated himself. 

She smiled at the mention of her little brother. “Yes, he’s my little brother, he’s in your house, and you’re one of the Weasley twins.” George opened his mouth to confirm which twin he was when she cut him off. “Wait, let me guess!” Neville had told her that whenever he wanted to differentiate the twins he always looked for a mold on either one of their necks, because George had one, and Fred didn't. 

She inspected his neck subtly, and quickly found the freckle Neville was talking about. “You’re George.” She confirmed. 

George raised his eyebrows in a pleasant surprise. “You’re right.” He chuckled at her excitement, albeit she cheated, but who cares? Not him. George was a little sad when the line got to him, and he entered the lavatory. 

Finally, he was able to empty his bladder. Once he got out, Y/n was patiently waiting outside of it for her turn. Y/n smiled, as she entered the bathroom. “I’ll see you around, George.” 

“Alright then.” He said, although immediately regretted it. Alright then? He could’ve said anything else, but that. He could’ve said, “See you around.” or “See you too” instead he said, “Alright then.” Before he could redeem himself, the lavatory door was already closed. 

He groaned. He was less of a lady’s man then his twin brother was, but he was still not bad when it came to getting girls in his court. What was it about Y/n Longbottom that made him so…nervous?

3, Year 5, 1994

The Yule Ball was in full swing, the date was confirmed for Christmas day, and the halls were buzzing on who was bringing who, or who they were asking. George was stumped. After the incident on the train ride to Hogwarts with Y/n, they had become good acquaintances. They waved to each other in the halls when they passed by each other– George had changed some of his class routes to align with hers, and they would even have short conversations in the mornings sometimes when she would stop by to talk to Neville. 

George was the last one in his friend group to not have a date. Lee was going to Alicia Spinnet, and Fred had coolly asked Angelina Johnson to go with him on a whim during study hall, leaving just him. 

George wanted nothing more than to ask Y/n to the ball. Especially when he’d caught wind that Ginny was going to the ball with Neville. Now that there was no Quidditch due to the Triwizard Tournament, he didn’t see her coming out of the library like he used to, but figured she might be there at around the same time. 

Last year practice would end at around 7:00 pm. So that’s where he went at 7:00 today. He went to the Library corridor, and waited for her to exit. He had it all planned out, he would make it look like chance that he was there when she came out, and then he would say hi, and bring up the ball, and ask her. It was simple, but he was nervous. Very nervous. 

Finally he saw her walking out of the library with her things. He walked opposite to her, and greeted her. “Y/n! Hi.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, she never saw George around the library anymore especially now that Quidditch was paused for the year. “Hi, George.” She had gotten pretty well at telling the twins apart, mostly because Fred didn’t really speak to her. “What are you doing here?” 

“Oh you know just walking, but– now that I have you here, I was hoping to ask you something?” George started, he could feel the words getting stuck in his throat. 

She nodded, she wasn’t even expecting the words that were going to come out of his mouth. “Yeah sure, what’s up?” She asked curiously, giving him her undivided attention, whatever it was it seemed important. 

George gulped. “I was just wondering if…” He paused, and she waited patiently. He took a deep breath. “If you wanted to go to the ball with me?” George immediately regretted even coming to the corridor when he saw the look of rejection flash onto Y/n’s face. 

“Oh…I’m sorry” She started, George sighed. “I really would’ve loved to, George. Truly. But someone’s already asked me to go, and I’ve already said I’ll go…with him.” She explained, a Durmstrang boy she’d gotten to know a bit from her Magical Creatures class had asked her just a couple of days ago. But she also would’ve loved to go with George if he had asked her sooner. 

“Oh.” George sighed, the sting of rejection was laced in his voice. “Well, that’s alright, then. I’ll just–” He turned to leave. But Y/n stopped him. 

“I really am sorry, George.” She said in a sorry tone. “I would’ve loved to go with you.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for. I guess I should be sorry for asking so close to the ball.” He scratched the nape of his neck, the ball was next week.

Y/n’s expression remained sour. “Maybe we both can be sorry.” 

4, year 6, 1995

George’s crush on Y/n had somewhat mellowed down this year. It was still very much there, but as they became closer friends throughout last year, her presence seemed to dull his big feelings about her. 

When he was abruptly woken up in the night to the news that his father had been attacked in the Ministry, he was distraught. Groggy, and achy he and his siblings made it to the headmaster’s quarters, where they had gotten news that his father was attacked brutally, but was found, and was now safe. 

Which led him here during his winter break. At St. Mungos Hospital to visit his father. Himself, Fred, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry walked aimlessly around the hospital, they weren’t allowed to visit Mr. Weasley until he had awoken. Mrs. Weasley had told them to spend their time “exploring”, whatever that meant. They’d gotten to a room, it had many old witches, and wizards in the room, the plaque on the door was labelled as, Permanently Magically Incapacitated. That sparked the group's attention, but their interest deepened more when Ginny recognised two people in the room. 

“Is that, Neville, and Y/n?” Ginny said to her brothers, and friends.

“Neville, and Y/n?” Ron repeated. 

Hermione peaked through the window’s blinds. “It is.” She pointed out. “And that’s their grandmother.” 

“Why are they here?” Harry asked, and the others shrugged. 

“We should say hi.” Ginny suggested, making her way to the door. Before any of them could stop her, she had knocked on the door, garnering the attention of Neville, and Augusta Longbottom. 

Somehow, in the five seconds it took for them to get to the room, Y/n had disappeared, which saddened George. Neville seemed nervous that they were all there. 

“Uhh oh! Hey guys.” He acknowledged them, once Ginny waved. His grandmother eyed him. “Oh, grandma, these are my friends, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George Weasley.” 

His grandmother, a tall intimidating woman, reminded George of Y/n. She had the same perfect posture, and the same piercing intimidating gaze. “Why are you here, Neville?” Ginny curiously asked.

“My parents live here.” Neville shortly said, he sounded scared to reveal the truth. 

“They live…here?” Harry asked. 

Neville nodded, he wasn’t expecting his grandmother to give them his parent’s whole biography. Towards the end of her long rant, George had caught sight of Y/n. He must’ve lit up or made a face, because his grandmother turned to where his gaze was. The sight was despairing, as Y/n walked arm in arm with a frail thin woman, she looked just how their grandmother explained how their parents ended up here. Insane from torture. 

“Neville, Mum has something for you.” Y/n quietly said, her face surprised to see all of the familiar faces looking at her. 

“Again?” Her grandmother said. “Very well, Alice, dear. Very well. Neville take it– whatever it is…Very nice, dear.” Her grandmother said to her mother. 

“Thanks, Mum.” Neville said, taking the small bit of paper from her hands. It was a gum wrapper. Y/n let out a small smile. 

In that moment all of the others realised why Neville was, the way that he was. And why Y/n was so protective, and respective of him and his boundaries. George admired Y/n at that moment. He realised she probably had to have had a lot of self resilience to have grown up the way that she did. 

George wanted to converse with Y/n, but her mother was pulling her elsewhere into the room. As if on cue, Neville’s grandmother had excused the two of them from the conversation. “Well, we’d better get back. Very nice to have met you all.” She began to follow Y/n and her mother. “Neville put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough to paper your bedroom by now.” George heard their grandmother instruct. 

Just as George was about to follow the others that were now filing out of the room. Y/n shortly told her grandmother something before calling out for him. “George!” She said, slightly jogging over. “Hey.” 

“Hey.” He smiled, happy that he was able to speak to her just for a bit. 

“Just wanted to say hi. But I ought not to keep your family waiting…” Y/n snickered, seeing an amused Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Fred staring at them through the window of the room. 

“Ignore them.” He rolled his eyes, there was an awkward silence between them, there was always an awkward air that surrounded them mostly due to George and his feelings for her, but also her blooming ones for him. 

“So, what are you guys here for?” She asked curiously, trying to fill the awkward air surrounding them. 

“Uhm, my Father. He was attacked while working in the Ministry. He’s okay though.” 

“I’m glad to hear. Well, I better get back to my parents. I hope your Father feels better soon.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it in comfort. “See you at school, George.” She smiled, before letting go of his hand, and happily walking over to her parents, brother, and grandmother. 

George had thought his crush on Y/n Longbottom had mellowed, but the way his heart pounded out of his chest from the way she held his hand. The feeling was something he’d never felt before. He’d held hands with tons of girls, kissed tons of girls, but never had they once made him feel how she did. 

When George had finally joined the others in the corridor outside, he was teased relentlessly, mostly by Fred, and Ron. However, he didn’t seem to care nor deny the fact that he did in fact have feelings for Y/n, because quite frankly it was undeniable now. George Weasley was deeply, utterly in love with Y/n Longbottom. 

5, year 6, 1996

After Dumbledore’s Army had been caught, George, and Fred had cracked a plan to end Umbridge's madness once, and for all. Of course, with the plan came dropping out of school, and beginning to work on their joke shop. 

Y/n was currently helping younger years with their wounds after having their detention with Professor Umbridge. As most Hufflepuffs were, and like her brother, Y/n was good with herbs, and plants. One of the plants she grew in her own dorm was Dittany, a plant that was used in many healing potions, and had many magical healing properties. 

She sat in the Gryffindor common room, because most of Dumbledore’s Army was Gryffindor students, healing the students’ wounds. George watched her, waiting for his turn, all of the older students collectively decided to let the younger students go first. They could handle the pain for much longer than the younger ones could. 

Y/n looked like she was in her element, healing people. She had once confided in George that she wanted to be a healer at St. Mungos. He could definitely see it. George admired how she could be so maternal at her age. She was very mature. It made George insecure about his feelings towards her, he felt they would never be reciprocated just because they were so different. 

But he couldn’t have been more wrong. Y/n had grown to like George just as much as he liked her, only she was a little bit better at hiding it. It was apparent to everyone except the pair of them. George was next in line for Y/n’s healing. 

They conversed while she did her routine. A couple of drops of essence of Dittany, and then a wrap to prevent irritation. She would’ve done it faster, but because they were conversating she moved a bit slower than usual. 

“How bad is it doc?” George joked, as she dropped the Dittany onto his skin. 

“Horrible, I think you’ll need extensive care after this one.” She played along, now wrapping his wounds with medical tape. 

“I don’t know doc, I think a kiss on the cheek would do it for me.” He was feeling bold, but he wasn’t expecting her to actually kiss his cheek. 

“There, all better?” Y/n asked, her voice was almost teasing. George nodded dopily before allowing the next person to be healed. 

“Why don’t they just get together already.” Ginny asked her brothers, Harry, Hermione, and Neville, watching Y/n start her healing routine. Neville looked shocked. 

“Together? My sister?” Neville questioned, he noticed they were friends now, but it went completely over his head that they liked each other. 

“They flirt with each other all of the time,” Ginny chuckled, and the others agreed. 

“It’s sickening.” Ron added. “George reckons she doesn’t like him back. That’s why he’s so afraid.” 

“Y/n doesn’t really…date. At least from what I’ve seen.” Neville said, now keeping his eyes on the pair, he looked away for a split second. 

“Are you sure about that?” Fred asked, as he looked at his flustered brother. Y/n had just kissed George on the cheek. 

Neville was very unsure.

6, The beginning of the war, 1997

After the twins dropped out of school Y/n hadn’t seen much of them until she joined the Order of the Phoenix as a healer after she graduated. Her parents were a part of the original Order, it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone when she happily accepted the invitation. 

George had long forgotten about his crush on Y/n, thinking about her from time to time– it’d been over a year since he’d last seen her. Until he saw her at one of the Order meetings for the first time. All of his feelings came flooding back. She looked older, her face had matured, and somehow she was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her head was tilted back as she laughed with Tonks while they waited for the meeting to begin. 

After the meeting concluded, they had a short conversation catching up on their time spent apart. “Longbottom, long time no see.” He cheekily said.

“Hello, George.” She chuckled. “How have you been? I hear you’re a successful business owner with Fred. I knew you could make it out of selling from your trunks in the corridors of Hogwarts.”  

During their years at Hogwarts, George, and Fred sold their products from their dorms, small things like their canary creams. Y/n was the only Prefect that let them off with a warning every single time they were caught. 

George chuckled. “Yes, have you been? I would’ve seen you if you had.” 

“I have.” Y/n nodded, George was surprised, he greets every single one of his customers, he would’ve known if Y/n Longbottom walked into his store, in fact he would’ve been ecstatic to see her. 

“You have? Perhaps you walked in when I was on break. Trust me, I would’ve known if you were in my shop.” George seriously said, but Y/n laughed, making George’s heart swell, it was a sound he hadn’t heard in forever. 

“Fred greeted me when I walked in, so perhaps you are right. I was only there for a few minutes, otherwise I would’ve been late for my shift at St. Mungos. Very impressive what you two have done with the shop.” She informed him. George groaned, having missed her by a few minutes, he would’ve loved to see her sooner than he had now.”Congratulations.” 

“You too, you’ve always wanted to work at St. Mungos.” Y/n was taken aback that he remembered such a small detail about her. 

“Thank you.” She smiled, before catching a glimpse of the time. Her smile dropped. “I’m so sorry. I have a shift at the hospital now. I would love to stay and chat, but I have to go. I'll see you next time.” She smiled, and apparated away with a pop. 

George was left alone; he couldn't even say goodbye. Fred, and Tonks watched with amusement written all over their faces. “He still has a crush on her?” Tonks remembered in 12 Grimmauld Place, the other teenagers would tease George about his crush on the girl all of the time. Fred nodded. 

“Oh he’s in love.” 

That was two weeks ago. It was July 27, and tonight they were transferring Harry to the Burrow. Y/n was a stand on healer, in case anything happened. She was to wait at the burrow for the others with her remedies, and potions for any injuries that might have occurred during the transportation. 

Y/n hadn’t seen George since the meeting, but she was having a deep conversation with his mother as they waited for the others to come to the rendezvous point. Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny were nervous. So was Y/n, the anxious air engulfed the room, so much so that after her conversation with Mrs. Weasley Y/n found herself on the front porch. 

The groups were late now, and Y/n was starting to worry. She looked up at the night sky if it were under different circumstances she would’ve thought the summer night to be beautiful, and calming, the way the crickets chirped, and the wind moved the grass. 

The calming sounds broke when the sound of the barrier being broken was heard. One of the pairs had arrived. Ginny was bolting out of the door, and running towards the approaching pair, it was Hagrid, and the real Harry. Y/n let out a small sigh of relief, however that was still six other groups left unaccounted for, one of them being George. 

“Harry! Hagrid!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. Y/n stood behind her with Ginny. “What happened, where are the others?” 

“Is no one else back?” Harry asked, and Y/n shook her head dimly. 

“They were on us from the start, Molly.” Hagrid explained, making Y/n’s stomach churn. “We didn’t stand a chance.” 

“Well, thank goodness you two are alright.” Mrs. Weasley said. 

“The Death Eaters were waiting for an ambush.” 

“Come inside, I’ll have a look at you.” Y/n said, while Ginny walked over to Harry. She figured she would let them come in on their own accord. 

They had barely made it a couple of steps towards the house before another pair came through the barrier with a loud whoosh, catching Y/n’s attention. 

“Here!” Lupin shouted, holding onto a bloodied Harry, transforming into one of the twins, not just one of the twins, George. 

Y/n went straight into healer mode, immediately rushing over to take the other arm of George to act as another crutch, although she wasn’t of much help due to Harry beating her to it. “Quick! Into the house.” Instead of waiting around, Y/n rushed into the house to grab her potions, and healing supplies. 

“Oh, my boy…” Mrs. Weasley said, making room for him on the couch. Y/n grabbed her wound-cleaning, blood replenishing potion, and calming draught for George,ignoring the ruckus from Lupin, and Harry. If it were anyone else she would have remained calm, but she was nervous having to care for George. Mrs. Weasley was hunched over George, but made room for Y/n once she saw her making her way over. 

Y/n placed all of her potions down. “Mrs. Weasley, could you please get me a warm damp towel?” Mrs. Weasley nodded, and made her way to the kitchen. “George, can you open your eyes, I need to see if–” 

George’s eyes opened as soon as she asked. “You’re beautiful.” He abruptly said. 

“You must be concussed…” She concluded, her wand was dimly lit. “Follow my wand please.”  George did as she asked perfectly, meaning he shouldn’t have been concussed. 

“I mean it.” George whispered, he had just almost died, and all he could think about is how he never asked out the woman he loved, out of fear. 

Y/n shushed him, her cheeks pink. “Let me care for you, and when you’re all better you can tell me all about it.” She grabbed her calming draught, and poured a bit into a small cup. “Drink this.” 

George drank it down with a big gulp, immediately feeling lighter, his tense body releasing. “This might sting just a bit.” She whispered, gently wiping away the excess blood from the side of his head. Her expression went even more serious when she realised George no longer had an ear. Still, he inspected her while she worked. She dropped a couple of drops of her wound-cleaning potion onto his wound. He winced. “Sorry, I know. I know.” She could feel the eyes boring into her now that more of the others had begun to arrive. 

She added the blood replenishing potion before sealing his wounds. “Vulnera Sanentur…Vulnera Sanentur…” She waved her wand around his head. Fred now kneeled beside Y/n while she cleaned up her supplies. She stepped away to give the brothers some space, and to grab her wraps to wrap his head. 

“How are you feeling, Georgie?” Fred asked. He still had a lot of blood in his hair, and on the side of his face. 

“Saint-like.” George answered. 

“Come again?” Fred confusedly requested. 

“Saint-like. I’m holey, Fred. Get it? I’m holey?” 

Fred shook his head, and smiled. “The whole wide world of ear related humor, and you go with, I’m holey. It’s pathetic.” 

“Reckon I’m still better looking than you.” George chuckled, and Y/n came back around with the wraps, and another wet towel to clean the rest of his blood. Y/n kneeled beside Fred, and from behind her heard:

“Mad-Eye’s dead.” Bill Weasley announced. “Mundungus took one look at Voldemort and disapparated. 

While they grieved, Y/n continued her job. Moody was a kind man, but a man Y/n hardly knew. She cleaned the rest of the blood off of George’s neck, and head. “Now that I’m all better, can I tell you how beautiful I think you are now?” George whispered. 

“You’re still in a daze, and medicated up. I doubt you’re not kidding me right now, Weasley.” She said, but a small part of her hope he was being serious. 

“I’m serious. I’ve had a crush on you since my fifth-year.” George confessed in a low voice. 

Y/n paused, before continuing to wipe the blood off of his skin. “Mrs. Weasley, he’ll need a change of clothes.” Mrs. Weasley nodded, and walked up the stairs. She began to wrap his head. 

“Let me take you out on a date.” George asked, lifting his head slightly off of the pillow so she could wrap his head.

“A date?” Y/n chuckled, but continued. “Where too?” 

The others shamelessly watched while the two flirted. Ginny, and the trio sharing cheeky glances. 

“Anywhere you want.” Y/n let his head down. 

“Anywhere?” Y/n confirmed. 

“Anywhere.” George nodded, although he was in pain, and a bit dazed, he knew he wanted this more than anything. 

“It took you almost dying to confess your feelings to me all of these years?” Y/n asked, realising how serious George was. 

George smiled. “Sounds about right.” 

“Alright, how about the Saturday after the next? If my calculations are correct, your ear should be mostly healed by then.” Y/n suggested. 

“Sounds like a plan, doc. But I think I’ll be fully healed if you kiss me right now.” George tried his luck, and smiled when Y/n leaned in. 

Y/n paused, her lips practically brushing against his. “Later, not in front of everyone.” She pulled away with a proud teasing smile. “You’re crazy, asking me to do such a thing in front of your family.” She chuckled. 

“Crazy for you.” He whispered. 

“You sap.” 

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

I’m a fierce believer and defender of Smooth Brain Astarion (affectionate).

I love that, if left to his own devices, he ends up dead in a ditch. I love that this pasty menace of an elf is a walking disaster. I love that his brain produces one coherent thought per day, only to have it backfire on him later on. I love that his first choice in freedom is to unapologetically be the worst version of himself. Because it makes sense. 

That’s what abuse and trauma do to your brain—they fuck with it. 

And in Astarion’s defence, the man didn’t have to use his brain for nearly 200 years—it’s probably the very thing that kept him as alive as he can be; to survive 200 years of pure shit. 

And what use is his brain when his days and nights are dictated by someone else for as long as he can remember? When he has no say in what clothes he wears. When he doesn’t get to choose what or when to eat. When his body and mind aren’t his own, distorted by torture and hunger and self-loathing, forced to obey his vampiric master. Why use his brain when his survival depends exclusively on his abuser’s whims? 

Astarion could’ve come up with the most brilliant plan possible to escape Cazador or save a mark from their doom, but he never stood a chance of succeeding—which doesn’t mean that he didn’t get punished for trying (or even thinking about it) anyway.

Existing under Cazador was a game he couldn’t win, so why bother playing? 

And it’s only by chance that Astarion’s autonomy is returned to him literally overnight. It’s only natural that he’s overwhelmed by his newfound freedom. How is he expected to make sound decisions when he can’t even recall a time when he could do and say as he pleased? 

Of course Astarion is a walking disaster when he finds himself on that beach after the Nautiloid crash—and he’s fully aware of that! That’s why it’s so crucial for him to get on the player’s/other companion’s good side.

He’s self-aware enough to be so insecure about himself that he would rather trust a stranger’s capabilities than his own. 

Being a catastrophe of a person is part of Astarion’s character journey. Not only does he have to reclaim his personhood, he has to learn how to depend on his own brain again and I think that's such a painfully beautiful, important message Baldur’s Gate 3 sends. 

Because healing isn’t pretty. Nor is it easy.

You’re not alright the moment you’re free of whatever horrors you had to live through—and that’s ok! There’s time and room for you to adjust. 

And the moment Astarion feels more or less safe within his new environment, when he’s fed and treated like a person worthy of respect and consideration, his insights, skills and perception are crucial assets to the group.

Astarion knows his art and literature, and although his little remarks are unhinged at times, he's genuinely witty. Even his objections are, considering the circumstances, absolutely legitimate.

Personally, I love seeing Smooth Brain Astarion become more and more secure in his judgement the more Tav/other companions trust and support him.

Astarion is smart, his brain’s just been stewed for nearly 200 years.

[fumiscripts]

✦ BIRTHDAY PRINCESS

✦ one shot ,, michael kaiser x gn!reader

✦ content:: coming back from an overseas match, kaiser didn't expect to find you literally slide towards him to greet him for his birthday

fluff/crack, 1580 words

additional:: reader has ZERO shame, affectionate asf reader, slight suggestive joke but it's so corny we js ignore it, loving kaiser so hard he almost freaks out but the keyword is almost, author did not know what she was doing, semi-rushed ending but that's because author wanted to clutch this for his birthday, swearing warning though I believe people are already used to that

You had a card up your sleeve.

No, seriously. You had a card up your sleeve at the moment. Not a playing card, though. It was a birthday card. For who? Your not-so-lovely boyfriend: Michael Kaiser. Well, now that you think of it, you did have another card up your sleeve. You planned to be a little devious. Just a little. You swear you won't be a public nuisance by doing this.

It's December 24th, a few minutes before midnight. You were in a private lobby of an airport, equipped with a portable speaker and a semi-charged phone, waiting for Kaiser— who was returning from an overseas match— just so you could drive him back home and make him your passenger prince, as a sign of affection, of course.

You kept looking around, staring at the signs that showed flights, waiting for his flight's status to turn to ‘arrived’. It's been a good few hours of waiting, already. You swore you got here right when the sun finished setting. This shit is taking forever. Then again, it was the holidays, so it's to be expected that places like the airport were bustling with people and fully booked flights, which might be the cause of delays.

Right as you thought you might crash out from waiting, they finally announced the planet's arrival. You ascended in joy, proceeding to basically cheer to the heavens above inwardly. You burnt holes into the door of the lobby with just your gaze, going back to your plan of totally not embarrassing both of you in front of the team.

The entrance handle twisted, and the door opened. You see the iconic blond and blue locks as he walks through, and you're filled with familiarity. On cue, you press the play button on your phone, making his eyes snap to you as the audio plays obnoxiously loud through the room.

You catch a brief glimpse of a judgemental expression on Kaiser's face. He barely had any time to ask you what in the actual hell you were doing, before you were already sliding to him on your knees, in sync with the lyrics from the song that blasted from the speakers connected to your phone

“THERE GOES MY BABYYYY.”

“What the fuck–?” his curse was cut off by you making contact with him. He was utterly flabbergasted, and you were just calmly latching onto his torso, just like the clip of this trend you were referencing. Kaiser suddenly grows aware of what was going on, as well as his surroundings, and he suddenly felt like hissing and thrashing away from you like an angry cat that did not want to be picked up.

You were not letting go, though.

With your arms wrapped around his waist, you were completely content with staying like that beside him. He was comfortable to hold, anyway.

Yes, you were just completely ignoring the way he was attempting to peel you off of him like you were some disgusting tick that clung to him. You could tell some of his teammates in the room were staring at you two, too, but you could care less. Hey! At least you didn't do this in public public, right?

You acquired a minor bruise on your side because of that little stunt.

Kaiser accidentally kicked you while trying to shake you off of him. But you could say it was worth it. You wanted to try the trend on him, but he didn't agree like the killjoy he was, saying that ‘he wasn't gonna entertain any of your fantasies about being able to hold him like that, even though that desperate display might be amusing.’ This was the only opportunity you could think of. You definitely had no other choice, so fuck it, you went ball and did it.

Now, he was staring at you— practically scolding you silently. You smiled it off because you were just a chill guy. “I have another card up my sleeve,” you remarked. That sentence alone had him debating whether to question how he was into you or to play along. Kaiser decided to do both, with the former being to himself, and the latter being what he did to you.

“Don't you dare pull some weird shit,” he muttered under his breath, sounding a bit exasperated, before sighing and replying more forwardly. “And that is?” Kaiser prompted, waiting for you to reveal whatever you wanted to show him now. He watches you reach into your sleeve, pulling out an actual card. You took his hand, planting the parchment into his palm— facing down— before retracting your arms, wearing an innocent smile in your face that just screamed mischief.

He looked back and forth between you and the letter in his hands, like you just handed him a ticking bomb. “It's a card for you. Open it,” you urged, and Kaiser could notice how enthusiastic you were, eager to see him read whatever was written. He hesitantly turned his gaze back down at it, unfolding and reading it, purposefully not out loud because he just knows it’s some bizzare freak.

Happy Birth ay!

I’ll give you the d later. ;)

These words were bolded. Kaiser’s eyes went back to you— still smiling with faux innocence— and stared at you disapprovingly, as if you were some abnormality. “...What the fuck?” he asks, making you grin wider in your successful tomfoolery. It was too late for this— or rather, too early. It's already 12 in the morning.

“Isn’t it amazing?” you comment, being met with the card being thrown to you, lightly making contact with your face. You gasped in overdramatic offence, easily catching the piece of paper. “Wow, you have no taste in absolute art,” you remark, leading to Kaiser sneering at you.

“I do. You're the one who doesn't,” he replied, heading away from you and to the exit of the airport, acting like he doesn't know you once passing by a more crowded area. He wasn't gonna associate with your weirdness. 

You went after him with the straightest face you could muster. You were nonchalant like that.

Going to his car, he raised an eyebrow when you led him towards the side where the passenger seat was. He was skeptical about you driving. Who can blame him? He rarely sees you drive, plus it's late at night— though he figures you were less tired than him for still being this energetic. He can trust you with not crashing the car this one time, maybe.

You opened the door for him, really putting in effort into making sure he had full service. Inside the vehicle, the first thing he sees is a bouquet of blue roses on the seat. Then, he notices the little crocheted dog plushie beside it. He turns to look at you, a smirk etching on his face, but you could tell it almost resembled a genuine smile. “You've outdone yourself, huh? I'll give you an A for actually pulling this off.”

“How generous of you,” you say in return, gently closing the car door after him. Once you were in the car, yourself, you started the engine, doing all the necessary safety shit like buckling in your seatbelt and whatnot.

When you turned over to where Kaiser was, he was staring at you. Not in the cute affectionate way, more like he was observing you. “Don’t crash,” he instructs after a short, silent staring contest. You simply smile innocently in return— you've been doing that a lot for a while now— and look back to the steering wheel, putting your hand on it and stepping on the pedal.

How fortunate. You can actually drive decently. Enough to bring you two safely from one point to another.

The plush and flowers were placed on his lap, and he found himself fiddling with the blue petals. Usually, he hates surprises. As well as presents. But coming from you, he supposes it's an exception. It might even be endearing. But perhaps that was just his personal bias due to being your boyfriend.

Kaiser leans on the car window, feeling the cool glass against his skin. You could almost feel those azure eyes watching you while you navigate through the streets, but you kept your own on the road. You could see how his gaze is almost soft, and how the mask of confidence and self-assurance he refused to not wear around others wasn't plastered on his face. You could tell that it was a sight that only you had the privilege of seeing.

It was nice to see him be like this— genuine without hiding behind a constructed facade. It might be cheesy, but you’d forever cherish the way he willingly lets his guard down around you. You could say that that's one of the reasons you like to do things for him.

And to him, having you— someone he found himself genuinely trusting— around was alike to having found a solace. Like a place of refuge. Whenever it was just you and him, he didn't have to be Kaiser: the German prodigy, a football star. He could just be Michael.

Plus, though he might never admit it to you nor himself, he's found himself starting to like the way you give him affection. He's been deprived of it for too long, and you're willing and ready to give it to him with warmth. 

Maybe he could get used to gifts— especially when it's coming from you.

(a/n):: I can't do this I love him sm ANW happy birthday Kaiser ml my pretty wife <33 and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!!

taglist: @shrii-kk, @tired-xyra-urstruly, @fishii28, @yui2aku

@lakeside-paradise

© fumiscripts 2024. don't steal, repost, translate or modify my works without my permission.

[devdozes]

♥ I've got my eye on you.

[a/n- first x reader so give me a break] phainon being a lovesick puppy nd pathetic loser (derogatory and affectionately)

The city hummed with life as neon lights flickered against the rain-dampened pavement. Cars honked in the distance, their headlights painting streaks of gold across the wet streets. Somewhere, a street musician strummed a slow tune on his guitar, the melody drifting through the cold night air.

You adjusted your bag, stepping out of the small bookstore where you'd spent the last hour browsing. The air smelled of petrichor and fresh coffee from a shop nearby. Just as you were about to leave, a familiar voice called out.

"Leaving so soon?"

You turned to see him—Phainon. Tall, effortlessly elegant, with silver hair that caught the glow of a streetlamp above him. He stood by the café’s entrance, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark coat. A teasing smile played on his lips, the kind that always made it difficult to tell if he was being sincere or simply enjoying the game.

"You were watching me again, weren’t you?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Phainon chuckled, stepping closer. "Not watching—observing. You have a habit of tilting your head when you're lost in thought. It's quite charming."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you. "Do you just lurk around bookstores at night hoping to find me?"

"Maybe." His voice was smooth, carrying that effortless confidence that always made your heart race. "Or maybe I just happen to enjoy late-night walks. The city is... different at this hour. Quieter. More honest."

His gaze met yours then, piercing yet soft, like he could see right through you. It was unfair, really, how easily he could unsettle you without even trying.

"...And what do you plan to do with this quiet honesty of the city?" you asked, trying to match his teasing tone.

Phainon tilted his head slightly, as if considering his answer. Then, with a small smirk, he reached out and tapped your forehead lightly with his knuckles. "Spend it with you, of course."

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. "Smooth talker."

"Only for you," he said, and this time, there was no teasing lilt to his voice—just quiet sincerity.

The rain had started up again, tiny droplets misting the air between you. He took a step back and extended a hand. "Come on. Let’s walk. Unless you’d rather stand here getting drenched?" "I think you would be more affected by me refusing to walk with you than me getting drenched in the rain" . . . "So is that a no? :(" Phainon says in an almost squeaky voice while looking at you with pleading eyes, his cerulean eyes looking down at you like the ocean water when the sunlight hits the water. Okay no what the fuck. You suddenly shake your head to remove the thoughts from your brain. Get your ass fucking together. Not even god knows what I'd do to this man if I allow myself to indulge in him, you internally scream as you feel your ears heat up, luckily not being visible to Mr. Samoyed here otherwise he would tease the everliving shit out of you. You exhaled, composing yourself, before finally sighing. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to deal with you sulking all night.”

Phainon grinned, victorious. “A wise choice.”

The two of you fell into step, walking side by side down the glistening streets. The rhythmic tap of raindrops against the pavement filled the silence between you, punctuated only by the occasional whoosh of a car passing by...The peaceful silence was then interrupted when the silver-haired opened his mouth and uttered a few words which left you frozen yet gasping for air internally. "Are you a thief? Because you stole my heart. Now please give it back." . . . "What the sigma" "That was a good one. And what does sigma mean?" You look at him with the corner of your eyes in a judgemental manner, leaving a literal wet puppy beside you after seeing your reaction, and then starts to pout dramatically hoping for your attention and love for him. He reminds me of the soap opera male leads, well, except he really isn't much of an asshole compared to THOSE male leads you see in soap operas-- The total red flags. Your steps faltered for a split second. As Phainon let out a low laugh, clearly reveling in your reaction. “See? Even now, you’re trying so hard not to react. But I can practically see the gears turning in your head.” You groaned, shoving his arm lightly. “I will leave you in the rain.”

“Ah, but then you’d miss out on the best part of the night,” he mused, stopping in front of a motorcycle parked just off the curb. The sleek black frame glistened under the dim glow of a streetlamp.

You blinked. “You brought your bike?”

Phainon smirked, fishing the spare helmet from the seat. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you walk home in the rain?”

You crossed your arms. “Oh, so now you’re a gentleman?”

“Only when it suits me.” He twirled the helmet once before offering it to you. “Come on. You’ll love it.”

You eyed the bike warily. “Have you ever crashed before?”

Phainon gasped in mock offense. “How dare you doubt my skills?”

You deadpanned. “That’s not a no.”

He laughed. “Alright, alright. I promise you’ll make it home in one piece.” Then, with a teasing tilt of his head, he added, “Though if you’re too scared to hold onto me, I totally understand.”

Oh, this bastard.

You snatched the helmet from his hands and put it on. “Shut up and drive, Mr. Samoyed.”

Phainon grinned, clearly enjoying himself, as he swung a leg over the bike. “Whatever you say.”

With a deep breath, you climbed on behind him, hesitating for only a second before wrapping your arms around his waist. The warmth of his body seeped through his coat, and you tried really hard not to think about how solid he felt under your grip.

Phainon hummed in approval. “See? Not so bad.”

“Just drive before I change my mind,” you muttered.

He chuckled. “Hold on tight.”

And then—the bike roared to life.

The city blurred past in streaks of neon as Phainon wove effortlessly through the streets. The wind rushed against you, cool and exhilarating, and despite yourself, you felt a thrill run through your veins.

Phainon’s voice carried through the wind. “Admit it. You’re having fun.”

You tightened your grip slightly. “…Maybe.”

He let out a victorious laugh, and in that moment, with the city lights reflecting in his silver hair and the night stretching endlessly ahead—you allowed yourself to indulge.

Just for a little while.

[mediumgayitalian]

Will wakes up a little bit stuck and a lot bit hot. It’s just past sunrise, from what he can see out of the mostly-shuttered window, which means he’s just past late. Fuck.

“Nico,” he whispers, trying and failing to delicately free himself, “Nico, un-octopus. I gotta pee.”

He does have to pee. Moreso, he needs to wake up and leave, but if Nico hears so much of a syllable pertaining to his abandonment he will never let go. Ergo. Will has learned some creativity.

“Mmfggh,” groans Nico, maturely. He tightens his arms around Will’s waist and buries his face deeper into the (boiling, suffering, sweating, etc) crook of his neck. “No. Suffer.”

“Nico.”

“Sh.”

“Nico.”

“Sh. I’m sleeping.” Will feels more than sees one eye opening, eyelashes tickling his skin. He can guess at the glare. “Don’t you want me to be well-rested and healthy.”

“Right now I kind of want to flick you, honestly.”

Nico hides a smile along Will’s spine.

“That’s because you’re sick and twisted.”

“Mhm. Get off, di Angelo.”

Nico pouts but, finally, relents: he loosens his hold not enough for Will to roll out but enough that he can actually fill his lungs with enough oxygen to wiggle his way to the edge of the bed. Nico, as soon as Will is not glued to him, huffs and rolls over, smothering himself in Will’s pillow.

“I see how it is,” he complains, muffled. “You don’t want me. Fine. See if I hold you next time you come in here all needy and affectionate.” He shifts just enough to glare, once he’s sure Will is looking. “I’ll close the door in your face.”

Will rolls his eyes, smiling. He’s late, but he lingers a moment, tracing his fingers across Nico’s spine, his ribs; trailing along the reddened scratches over his shoulders and ignoring Nico’s nooooo leave them leave them as he heals them.

“You’re such a drama queen.”

“I mean it!”

“Right. You meant it yesterday, too, and yet…”

“You seduced me,” Nico says, emphatically. He sits up quickly and catches Will’s hand, staring at him hard and serious — enough so that Will almost believes him, except the corner of his mouth twitches. “You — did some kind of spell fuckery on me, no doubt purchased from your various witchy sources, and all restraint — gone. Poof. And I have restraint in abundance, so obviously it was not my weakness.”

“Obviously,” Will agrees. “Not like you say my name in your sleep and wake up pouting if I so much as breathe near the door. ‘Course not.”

Nico goes pink. “I — do not.”

Will grins. “You do. Sometimes you try and kiss the air where you imagine I am.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“Whatever you need to believe, darlin’. It’s not like I’m allergic to lying.”

He leaves Nico sputtering, cackling on his way to the ensuite. It is half the reason he’s dating Nico, honestly. How come Will’s cabin doesn’t get an ensuite? They’ve got like a billion people in there. They need it more than he does.

But, well. Will needs an ensuite to get ready most mornings, because he’s up before the harpies are cleared for the night, so he supposes he will just have to sleep at Nico’s more often than not. Shame. Tragedy, really, because he is just so attached to his twin bed that is not long enough for his legs. Too bad.

“I can hear you rearranging products in there,” Nico calls, still grouchy. “Cut it out.”

Will turns the last tube of hair gel so it is just slightly off-centred from the rest of the products. He smiles around his toothbrush.

“Wouldn’t be such an issue if you didn’t have so much hair shit,” he responds, spitting into the sink.

“You should have more hair products! Look at yourself!”

Will does not. He does not have a sister who continues to look judgementally upon his mess of a head and passive aggressively but lovingly gift him hair supplies for all birthdays. He also does not have time to do his hair. Less people should maim themselves for Will to handle all day, and then maybe he’ll do something with his hair.

“You think my hair is sexy,” Will says, walking back into the main cabin. Nico harrumphs from under the covers, notably not denying it, and stares unabashedly — not that there is much to see, since it’s still pretty dark out — at Will while he changes. Will slips on a scrub top and then walks over and pinches him.

“Ow,” Nico whines, rubbing the spot as if he did not try to hide the stab wound he got sparring from him yesterday. “You hurt me.”

“Mhm. You objectified me.”

“…Only a little!”

Will shakes his head, smiling, and leans down — holding Nico’s wandering hands away from the hem of his shirt, he has places to be and has been distracted enough already — to kiss him. It’s a challenge, pressing his smile to Nico’s pout, but very quickly Nico sighs, eyes fluttering shut, and Will can kiss him properly.

“I’ll come wake you up again around noon if you’re not already up,” he murmurs. “I have to open the infirmary, but then I’m practicing for the rest of the day. You’re coming to my game, right?”

Nico tries to slide his hands up Will’s chest. Will bats his hands away.

“Yes,” he says, mournfully. “I will come watch you hit a ball around with other such interested jocks.”

“Bring your pom-poms,” Will says, cheeky, “and I wouldn’t remiss a matching skirt.”

He pulls away to Nico’s snorting laugh, wiggling his fingers in a wave as he heads to the door. He hears Nico’s quick have fun, goober as he pushes the solid obsidian shut behind him and blows a kiss at the window. He stands on the veranda, stretching, and relaxes with a sigh, staring across the common.

Gods, it is early.

And cold.

He trudges his way to the infirmary, anyway, already anticipating tonight’s koala cuddling.

———

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