#BUT i guess i get nostalgic sometimes

[trossards]

this new era at arsenal is genuinely great. we’ve had a great season, we have the best manager, we’re signing top players, the vibes are great. but but but sometimes i do miss ramsey and bellerin and woj AND granit xhaka

[sorenlionheart]

the more i think about it the more i realize that archie sonic wouldn't be nearly as infamous if it happened in the context of a superhero book rather than sonic the hedgehog lol

[inga-don-studio]

Being called ‘a beast’ for doing some feat of strength is still one of the most validating experiences of my life.

To the beloved twink at my factory job who was so easily impressed by my ability to throw around 40+ lb. boxes all day - wherever you are, thank you from the deepest queerest reaches of my heart.

[itsalwaysdark]

caught myself being nostalgic for that damn podcast again. we need to kill connor !

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

......

[allisonreader]

I should really be getting ready to sleep instead of continuing to make posts. But here I am doing just that. Probably partly because I am in a writing type of mood but didn't end up working on what I wanted to, so am instead online and writing up posts on whatever comes to mind.

[drgnflyteabox]

can't get much better

pairing: ghost / simon riley x fem reader summary: simon is forced to take some time off - he makes the most of it. tags/warnings: very soft, pregnant sex, size difference, softdom!simon- he's a masculine man who doesn't let his lady lift a finger :'), oral (f), one (1) butthole kiss, dacryphilia, daddy kink (sigh), minor minor foot stuff, allusions to injuries and chronic pain, title from an adrianne lenker song w.c: 2.5k

You try very hard not to think about it, but it's hard not to notice how massive he is.

Even shirtless, he somehow looks bigger, muscles flush with heat and exertion under the sun. He toils and breathes hard like an ox, working while you sit on the porch wrapped in his big flannel. Wearing his clothes is like being swaddled in a blanket straight out of the dryer, warm and nostalgic and syrupy with love. It leaves you feeling some type of tender. You're afraid of that feeling sometimes, of how soft it is and how soft it makes you. He could ask anything of you, and you'd yield like he was pressing his thumb into a bruised peach.

You have.

"How are you two?" Simon is so quiet when he wants to be. One would think he'd clomp like a horse with how big he is, but he can float like dust. It used to startle you, but you've been sinking deeper into the memory foam mattress of this life with him and it doesn't anymore.

"Tired, even though I'm not doing anything," you squint at him through the late afternoon sun. It haloes him like an angel.

"You're growing my baby in there, love. That's not nothing," his voice is rough, it always will be. But it's rough now like earth and soil rather than rough with pain and smoke the way he'd sounded when you met him.

You're feeling especially nostalgic, it seems, not like it's hard here. His hand is warm on your belly.

"I guess so," you let him pet you for a moment. Your stomach is swollen but not as big as it'll get, just enough to veto pants. A few months to go still. "How's your back?"

"Argh," Simon says, taking a heavy seat next to you. Dismissive and yet he groans a little when his muscles unclench. Classic.

You slowly reach up and nudge him until he's facing the field opposite to you, face toward the golden afternoon sun and his back to you. He's never asked you to do this, to take care of him, but it's your favourite thing in the world.

His back is always rock-hard no matter how many times you take your knuckles and fingers to it. Just a condition of a hard life lived for him, countless falls and impacts and pushing through injuries. There's a slight slant to his spine now that isn't there in the pictures he's shown you of his youth, but the stiffness is the same. You might've said he was born to be a soldier, had you not known him as a father. He could do both, but - you'd never say this out loud - you were privately grateful for this injury. It wouldn't take him out forever, but the recovery would be long. Long enough to get the homestead started, to get you pregnant.

Simon would never be completely still. This was compromise. Sweet compromise, a life started and time with him you could think back on the next time he shipped out. Making the most of things, he would always say. Making the time count.

"That feels good, love" he groans. Bending forward slowly, relaxing, he's like an aloof stallion finally accepting an apple from your hand. Acquiescing. Showing you his back. It's trust, and you savour it.

"I bet it does," you tease back, just a little. Your fingers are nimble and attuned to his specific aches and pains. "Are you hungry for dinner?"

"I'm hungry for something," he turns, slowly, hands reaching for your thickened waist. Huge, work-roughened hands. War-roughened hands, holding you like a delicate egg. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing that holds you together; all your pieces, everywhere, until he's holding you.

Kissing him is a contact sport. It's his hands moving, cupping your breast and then your pussy through your panties, your own hands wrapping around his broad shoulders like he's the only thing keeping you from drowning. It's open-mouthed, breathing into each other. Impossibly, you get softer, melting like ice on a hot day. 

Before you can lean back on the bench, he stands and lifts you with him. He's still hot from the day, damp with sweat, pushing you into the house while kissing you still.

"Simon-" you start, with no goal in mind. "Please."

"I've got you, love," he murmurs. He always does. Before you know it, you're laid back onto the plush armchair in your living room. Simon knows this is the most comfortable place for your newly-aching body. Affection swells in your chest uncontrollably and comes out through your eyes leaking down your face. Sure, pregnancy makes people emotional - but you're still embarrassed, touched by how considerate he is.

"It's alright, shh," he thumbs the tears at the corner of your eyes. His cock tents his work pants, aroused by them. "Let me take care of you."

The next words he murmurs are into your cunt, right over your panties, tongue laving over the already-wet fabric. "Just need your daddy, don't you?" You clench in tandem with his words, hot all over, skin prickling. He pushes your dress up, bunching it right under your tits.

It's reminiscent of how you spent the first night with him, on the very first day you'd met. Hurried, his big head between your thighs and clothes hanging off you still while he made you fall apart.

He's fucking good at it, too. Pulls your panties to the side and builds up the pressure with which he sucks on your clit, softly and then harsher until you shake. You've been extra horny lately, always wet around him and always so swollen. The scrape of his five-o-clock shadow against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is what tips you over, clamping his head tightly and shouting your orgasm into the heady summer air.

"That all it takes?" Simon grins, chin wet, fingers moving from your hips to your pussy to gently rub along your slit.

"Give me a second, please," it's humbling how quickly you come nowadays. Quick and intense. Fireworks.

You set your foot on his shoulder and he turns towards it, kissing your ankle. Patience is rare with him, something come about only since you confirmed your pregnancy. You miss being overwhelmed by him, miss the nights where he'd guide you over the edge one, two, three times in succession.

He pushes now, just a little, not waiting for your go-ahead but watching you intently. His fingers spread your cunt in a V and he puffs a breath on your sensitive clit. You jump. He grins again, leaning down to lick you, using one hand to hold both your legs under your knees and push them until they meet the soft bump of your belly.

"Hold them there," he says. It's spoken not to you, but to your hole, which he spears his tongue into. You obey as you're helpless to do, holding your legs up and giving him an unimpeded view. It's more than vulnerable, it's not only baring yourself to him completely but giving him the authority to do what he wants. What you need.

Simon eats you out like it's a kiss, slurping you down and letting you leak until the evidence of your weakness to him is all over you. Your legs are wet, and it drips down onto your other hole. He pushes a thumb into your cunt, dipping it in and out.

"Needed me, did'ya? Watched me all day," he's so smug, sometimes. His lips find your bare foot, kissing your sole. "Been wet like this all day?" His other hand finds the meat of your asscheek, spreading you open further, letting the split of you open to him. He leans down, kissing your inner thigh, then your other hole. You whine and clench your pussy around his thumb. 

"So needy," he murmurs, finally finally moving back to your clit. Flicks his tongue over it, something that might've been teasing before but is intense now. Your hands tighten against your legs, head thrown back.

"Oh please- Simon!" You shout again, abs drawing up, stars in your eyes. "Ahh- I'm-"

"I know, honey," his lips suction again around the hard little pebble of your clit, eating like a man starved. 

This is how he likes you. Losing control, coming apart, helplessly vocal against the onslaught of his tongue. No matter how many times you've done this, it never gets old. The release almost always makes you cry, especially intense like this. You're wet all over, face and cunt and legs. He is, too.

"You still with me, love?" He pets your flank like you're a horse.

"Yes," but that's not what he wants.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl," and fuck if that doesn't always fill you with warm fuzzy energy. Wipes your brain, keeps you soft and floaty.

He guides you up and out of the armchair, lifts you into his arms when your legs shake too much. That electric feeling is still coursing through you, tingles in your extremities as they come back to life.

The hand he strokes over you is half affectionate, half proprietary. You've been his since the first time he laid eyes on you.

He reminds you of it as he sets you down gently on the bed, your hair a halo around your head and hands reaching to his face where you pull him down for a kiss. Hands find his shirt, pulling it off you, and then the dress. Fingertips touch the headboard, your arms stretching up, making room for him. Slips your panties down your legs.

It's a lingering, indulgent kiss. Breathing each others air, gasping into his mouth, he puts his elbows by your head and lays as much weight down as he can without cramping your full belly. He's as vocal as you, groaning and rutting like a dog.

"Ready for me, sweet girl?" He leans out of the kiss, sitting back on his heels. You nod, desperate and pulsing between the legs again like you didn't just come twice.

"Daddy's gonna take care of you, don't you worry," he rearranges you like a doll, turning you to your side and getting between your legs. A pillow is tucked under your belly, and he tests your flexibility by holding your leg tight to the length of his body. Your hamstring burns a little with it.

A hand holds your knee, another to your waist. His jeans scrape against your sensitive skin.

You focus on little details. His scar, touching his eyebrow and splitting through his nose, ending down by his jaw. The knuckles on his fingers holding your knee, and how rough the pads of his fingers feel on your waist. This man has never had soft hands in his life. Those same hands capable of so much force, so much violence, the very same that hold you and guide you. A shepherd, you his lamb.

The weeping head of his cock kisses your hole, catching there and traveling up. He taps it against your clit until you're tensing, whining, needy again. Tears down your cheeks.

He steadies you, pets your waist, guides his cock inside and it feels like you can breathe again. His mouth laves hot kisses over your ankle, the sole of your foot again, reverent and controlling all at once. The stretch burns - it always does, and maybe always will. Simon is just so big, thick all around and the mushroom head of him could always bump your cervix if he's not careful.

He's careful now, but only just. You can sense his control fraying, his hips driving forward steadily but his thighs tensing and his grip getting meaner. This is your favourite part. Watching him sweat, breathe hard, taking his pleasure in you.

"Yeah-" he cuts himself off with a long, drawn out groan. Deep, from the bottom of his belly and out. "Already so full of me, aren't ya? Can't get full enough."

You plead with your sounds, words out of your grasp. Your hands clutch at the sheets but it isn't enough. He's solid, he's your anchor, but he's losing himself in your cunt and you're free falling.

"Play with your tits for me," he commands, pumping faster. You're reflexively tightening around him, clit jumping for attention, squeaking each time he lets himself in as deep as possible and touches the mouth of your cervix.

Sunlight slowly fades on the bed, the last golden rays escaping out the window as you're bathed in dusk. 

There's nothing to do but obey, hands finding your swollen breasts and squeezing. They've been sore and huge, like that week before you get your period only it's been a couple months. None of your bras fit anymore.

Simon appreciates it, he loves it. Has you cooking for him with your tits out, nipples peaked and pussy leaking. They bounce, now, stopped only by your hands pinching and twisting. It's insane - no one in the world could replicate the feeling. No artist, no musician. Electricity zips from your breasts down to your clit and shit - you might come just like this, untouched, just full of your man and fondling yourself.

"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking," he pants, leaning over you, bending your leg. "Pinching my dick, sweetheart. Your pussy's so fucking good."

The orgasm begins in your toes, tingling. Your muscles tighten, drawing up, up, towards your cunt, which is making obscene sounds around him.

Simon sees the signs, sees your eyes rolling and your body going taut. He abandons your leg in favour of rubbing your clit with two big fingers quickly, up and down.

"That's it, sweetheart, come all over my cock. Go on," his voice is a snarl, barely distinguishable as human, beastly. "Be good for daddy.”

It's like the crescendo of an orchestra, like a summer afternoon in august, like waking up without a clogged nose after being sick, it's - really fucking good. You're near sobbing, crying out his name, abandoning your tits to reach for him desperately. He meets you halfway, shuddering his own orgasm into you. The press of his hips against yours is better than buttered toast, the delicate press of his chest against yours as he lets your leg go is bliss.

"Si-imon," you slur, hands on his cheeks. He laughs and kisses your forehead.

"What's that, sweet girl?"

"I love you," you cry a little more then, feeling him pull out and lay next to you. You're boneless.

"I love you too," his arm reaches across you, pulling you into him. "Both of you." Hand on your belly again.

"That was insane," you pant. He barks a laugh against your hair. "I'm serious."

"I know you are, love," he kisses your forehead, petting your stomach. You can tell it's meaning, can feel the gratefulness behind the kiss. He's saying thank you, for staying with him, for making him a father. Your hand finds his, squeezing back a wordless reply. Of course, it says.

<3

[eggmeralda]

I get to briefly talk about the who in my dissertation but it means I have to be normal about them which I haven't been able to do since 2014 so this is kind of a problem

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Platonic Yandere Jason w/ Batsis darling

A/N: This is supposed to be post death and all that.. Like he's just trying to integrate back into his family and society but it's been hell. His batsis is the one thing that is actually helping him through it thus becoming over attached. He's obsessed with being normal again..for you. (Any Jason Todd)

Warnings: Rather soft yandere actually. but i guess obsession and possessive tendencies.

Requests: always open. please read pinned post which is the masterlist

Masterlist

Yandere Jason Todd who finds an immeasurable amount of comfort and stability in his Batsis. He doesn't particularly understands or even knows why he does but he does.

He still feels awkward and out of place with the rest of batfam. He feels anxious, judged and annoyed around them. It overwhelms him and stresses him to the point of mental breaks. But you ground him. You don't make sudden movements or loud sounds. You don't ask invasive questions or bring up past memories. You're gentle and mindful of him.

The others try bonding but they never fail to eventually overstep boundaries and cause more wounds. He's appreciative of you.

Yandere Jason who cannot help but get possessive over you. He hates when his other siblings command your attention over his. It boils him. I like to think he's constantly comparing himself to them. How normal and fun they are in contrast. He wants to be just like them and do fun things again...but he just cant...not yet. He especially despises Dick and just how pretty and perfect his older brother is. This often causes fights between the two. You and him have tons of inside jokes, secret handshakes and hangouts often. Jay wants that too.

Jason is fearful of going in public with you. He's been craving that local diner spot and love to treat you as a thank you but he doesn't want the stares. He's riddled with scars and looms over everything. He really don’t want his sis to be ridiculed and questioned on his behalf.

Jay tries his best to keep you locked in the house with him. He tries pulling you away from them as much as possible but he feels guilty. This is a miserable life and he doesn't want that was misery on you too, but he just cannot bear you being with them instead. Sometimes he'll offer to sneak out late at night and hang on rooftops with you, but he knows it's nothing compared to the arcades and parties you're missing out on.

He does try very hard to come out of his shell on your birthdays or times like Christmas ect.. He wants to be a good brother and give back how kind you've been towards him. Whatever will make you happy, he'll power through it.

Yandere Redhood who goes after the people that make you cry or feel unsafe. He knows what he promised Bruce but it's to keep is sibling safe. Bruce would understand if he went through even half of the traumatic experiences he did. You have to cut off potential threats at the roots. That's how you prevent lunatics like the joker and to keep souls like you pure.

Yandere Jason Todd who is adorably obsessed with your room. He hasn't done much decorating to his. It's boring and bland, he doesn't remember much of what he liked as a kid before everything happened. But yours is covered in personality. Books, figures, plushies and tons of posters...it's cute. He likes it a lot. Sometimes he just sits in there, even when you're not home because it makes him feel nostalgic? In a good way, it gives him a warm glimpse into what his life could've been as a teen/young adult. Plus it's filled with all the things you love which by default he loves it too. I like to think he steals trinkets from your room that you love the most when he's anxious.

Like you've come home before to him in the corner of his room with one of your big plushies in his arms during an episode. It smells like you it grounds him back into reality. Whatever he's seeing in his head isn't real, but you are. You signify safety.

Yandere Jason who mimics anything you do to learn how to act normal. He doesn't mean to but he spends so much time either with you or lurking near by. Your food options are a major thing is copies. He's often overwhelmed by the many choices in store so when he's hungry, he'll just pick up anything he's remembered you eating. Even if he didn’t like it much.

He doesn't realizes these habits are a bit strange. enviably, one of the other siblings poke fun at him for how his face scrunches up at the taste of your favorite snack. They laughed how he should just get things he likes instead of trying to copy you all the time. They weren't trying to be cruel, just playing like siblings do but it made his world crumble. Was that really strange? Jason didn't mean to make you feel weird. Did you feel weirded out by it, have you been telling the other siblings how bothered you were by his antics?

"Jason, its okay. It's seriously not a big deal, it's slightly odd but i don't mind." You tried reassuring him but it just confirmed his thoughts.

You did think it was weird. That he was weird. You laugh about him behind his back all the time, don’t you?

He knows he's a bit off the drum. He knows he's an embarrassment but a deluded part of him thought maybe the difference wasn't as big as he made it out to be. It was just paranoia. guess..not. He's shattered. His one safe space wasn't real. He wasn’t good enough like the others….yet.

Yandere Jason has to become like a normal brother for you. He needs to be like Dick and Tim. He needs you to think he's cool and fun to be around. He needs to be a good brother...one you're not weirded out by.

[kinopio-writes]

Hello dearie!!

How are you? I hope you're doing well!

I saw that your asks were open,and your content is really cool and silly,So I decided to leave you a nice ask to enjoy!

Could I have a headcanon platonic! Alastor,Vox and Husk finding a random child next to their dead mother, except that they don't really understand that she's dead and think she's sleeping,so they pity the child and take them in?

The child is really polite and nice,pretty calm,too. Sure,they do child stuff,like running around,being excited,etc,but they still are more calm than others.

They always talk about their mother,how she's the only one left,and how they love her.

Would the characters say the truth? Would they lie?

I just love hurt/comfort and platonic relationships so :3

Anyways,I hope that's not too much,and that you enjoy writing this!

Have a really nice day,don't forget to drink and take breaks!

Stay proud!

-Nina <33

A/N: Thank you for the reminders, heh. Btw, I’m going to have to change the reasons as to why they took you in because I just don’t see characters like Alastor and Vox taking you in because of pity. Sorry about that. The rest is untouched. You’ll still get a bit of that hurt/comfort (mostly from Husk, lol. Both Alastor and Vox are non-existent, but Alastor is somehow better than Vox).

Warnings: Mentions of death

———

Alastor, Husk, and Vox adopting a deceased mom’s child

Alastor

• Alastor paid no mind to the dead corpse

• it didn’t really look that appetizing anyway

• “How unfortunate.” You heard a weird voice from behind you as a hand was placed on your shoulder. “A child mourning in the demise of its mother. Tragic, really. You have my condolences.”

• “What are you talking about, mister?” You stared up at the mysterious man, watching his eyes flick from your left to right eye while his grin only grew as the seconds went by

• “I think you’ve just found yourself the perfect dwelling,” he abruptly said, letting go of your shoulder to fix his bowtie as he sprung back to life. “Why don’t you come with me?”

• “But what about my mother?”

• “She is in good hands, I can assure you.” He offered his hand to you. “Come along, now. Children shouldn’t dwell long in places like these.”

• and so he took you in to be a patron at his hotel

• I mean, what’s more easier to redeem than a child? (assuming you’re a sinner. I don’t know if it’s canon anymore that only hellborns can reproduce. Look at Cannibal Town’s people)

• he intended to leave you in the rest of the residents’ care while they could only guess what his actual motivation was for taking you in

• but it seemed you ended up favoring him more than the rest

• you’d follow him around like a duckling—a lost puppy—you’re attached to him like a leech

• and you’re so well-behaved, too

• up until he leaves your sight

• he actually leaves the hotel a lot more often now because of that

• he finds you wrecking chaos in the hotel entertaining as hell

• and the fact that the others beg him to come back to calm you down

• I don’t think you would ever know what happened to your mother

• even when you talk about her a lot

• those rambles never really prompt him to say anything

• well, it’s not as if he knew what happened to her

• but, hey, at least he listens!

• maybe it’s because he feels a little nostalgic hearing the way you talk about her…

———

Husk

• Husk was fucking spooked when he found you lying beside your dead mother

• not because of the corpse, but because of the way you were staring at him

• with eyes dull and wide open, just like your mother

• while Husk wouldn’t have given two shits if it was a grown-ass adult, you were a child

• so he took you in

• “But what about my mother?”

• “Shi—I, uh—your momma will tag along soon. Now c’mon. She wouldn’t want you out here alone.”

• since Husk is constantly around the hotel, there were never really instances where you wreaked havoc

• you just silently watch him tend the bar and sometimes talk about your mother

• your talks about how much you love her make him feel pretty guilty for some reason

• but he’d probably tell you when you’re older enough

• only if you were asking him about her though

• he wouldn’t want to have to sit you down and tell you something that sensitive of a topic when you didn’t even ask

• “Why don’t I have a mother?” you would suddenly ask when you turned 18

• today was your birthday. Charlie insisted on having a little party for you just like every year. But you didn’t want one; you wanted to be with Husk for the day

• the man in question sighed

• he knew you were building up the courage to ask all day

• “I’m gonna give it to you straight, kid, I don’t know what exactly happened to her. All I know is that she’s in a better place.”

• “Oh…”

• “Do you…wanna talk about it?” He continued, voice a little unsure, “Not as a bartender…but as a dad.”

• you smiled, grateful. “I think I’ve already said plenty when I was younger. But thanks, Dad.”

• he smiled back

• you two would then sit in silence together, basking in each other’s presence

———

Vox

• so, uh, I’m going to have to completely skip the taking you in part with Vox because I genuinely cannot see him adopting a random child (unless he could gain something, but, like, you’re just a kid)

• so you’ll just get the aftermath of it (hope that’s okay)

• based on the way he handled Val’s tantrum, I think it’s safe to assume that he’s somewhat good with children

• but he’s a pretty busy guy

• he doesn’t have the time to take care of a random child, so he’d make sure to keep an eye on you on his cameras

• but despite that, your existence in the tower warrants his

• as you’re too chaotic whenever he isn’t around

• but only around the other expendable employees

• you’re relatively well-behaved when Velvette and Valentino are with you

• but he doesn’t exactly trust them to take care of you

• they aren’t exactly good with children

• so he tried doing video calls

• you will definitely grow up as an iPad kid

• he’d hear you talk about your mom during those calls

• he’d let you go on and on, but it’s not guaranteed that he’ll listen

• I don’t think he would ever tell you what happened to her (he doesn’t know, anyway)

• he won’t lie, he’d just work around your question

• skillfully

• like, extremely so

• even if you ask him directly, he still manages to dodge the question somehow

• I don’t know what else to say, he’s gonna be a pretty distant father—

[urfavlarry]

Cinematics

A/N. this is set in the modern era, so basically the marauders but it’s in 2024, no voldemort, everyone is just happy and alive !! plus this isnso bad istg💀🙏 im so sorry

summary. looking back on soft launching your relationship with Severus during your youthful years at hogwarts and comparing it to present time

requested. yes || no

not.yn

liked by s.snape, jamie.potter, b.rregulus and 17 others

not.yn Hey lover<3

ׂ╰➤ jamie.potter, b.rregulus and 3 others commented

jamie.potter maybe the schools weirdo can pull after all

b.rregulus when???? what???

lils.evans so happy for the both of u!! >w<

╰➤ jamie.potter yh me too or whateverׂ

╰➤ not.yn simp

posted 8 years ago

s.snape

liked by not.yn, lils.evans, rj.lupin and 39 others

s.snape You’re my, my, my.. My kind of woman 🤍

╰➤ not.yn, lils.evans, and 6 others commented

not.yn 🤍🤍🤍

lils.evans the best couple at hogwarts 🥰

╰➤ jamie.potter what about uss 💔

╰➤ rj.lupin and you called severus weird…

╰➤ jamie.potter THAT WAS IN 4TH YEAR???? STOP??

╰➤ s.snape i know what you did

╰➤ jamie.potter IM LIT GETTING ATTACKED RN YOU FORGAVE US LIKE HALF A YEAR AGO??

╰➤ not.yn bully allert cancel him🙏

posted 7 years ago

mary.macd0nald

liked by s.snape, b.rregulus, mars.mckinns and 25 others

mary.macd0nald enemies to friends (and some to lovers) 🌻

╰➤ not.yn, lils.evans, and 2 others commented

not.yn never would’ve thought we would all be a big friend group one day 🥹🤍

╰➤ s.snape tell me about it

lils.evans yesterday was so funn!! love you guys

mars.mckinns we need to do this again sometime!

posted 7 years ago

not.yn

liked by s.snape, jamie.potter, lils.evans, mary.mcd0nald and 68 others

not.yn welcome to the world baby girl 🤍 13/10/2024

╰➤lils.evans, s.black and 7 others commented

s.snape my two beautiful girls ❤️

lils.evans shes so cute 💞 proud of you mama

s.black uncles are gonna teach her how to have fun 🥰

╰➤ not.yn hell nah 🤺🤺

╰➤ jamie.potter hell yes ;)

╰➤ rj.lupin leave the poor baby alone she hasn’t even been home for a week yet (congratulations 🤍)

mary.macd0nald was just looking back on our teenage years!! so happy to have a new addition to our little group ❤️

b.rregulus can’t wait to meet her

mars.mckinns girl that speed ticket to the hospital was so worth it. happy for the both of you ❤️

posted 1 month ago

“Hun, what are you doing?” Severus whispered as he closed the door of your daughters room. He layed down on the coach next to you, putting a hand over your shoulders to bring you close, a smile spreading across your face, heart thumping even after so many years of being together. Severus looks down at your phone and his eyes turn to one of shock once he notices the photos he thought he’d never see again.

“You still have those? Thought you deleted them since it was like.. when we were 16?” He raised a brow and scrolled through the many pictures that had been taken in your younger years. “Yeah I just felt.. nostalgic. I’ve never deleted them off my account and I don’t plan to.” A chuckle leaves Severus’ throat and shows you the picture of him you took at the time you announced your relationship, putting it next to his face. “You think I’ve changed much?”

“Not really, you just don’t have your long-long hair anymore. We’re just 23 Severus, what were you expecting at this age? Wrinkles?” You flick his forehead and he winces sarcastically, giving you a dramatic pained expression. “You hurt me, darling.” He sits up and cups your cheek, pulling you into his lap with a sweet smile. “And I must say you’ve grown out of your shy phase and you do smile a lot more.. however I can’t say the same when were around other people.” You smirk, tucking a strand of loose hair behind his ear. “And you haven’t grown out of your constant teasing.” He grunted into your neck and embraced you to hide the small smile forming on his lips. “What can I say? I guess adulthood hasn’t quite kicked in yet.”

However your statement got cut short once you heard your daughters sobs, which died down just as quick as they started. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as Severus breathed out a laugh. “You were saying?” He whispered, looking deep into your eyes im which he could’ve gotten lost in during that very moment. He lifted you in his arms and walked with you in his arms to your bedroom, laying you down onto the bed.

“How about we.. get a bit more nostalgic tonight, hm?”

© URFAVLARRY

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

[o-sachi]

Where Love Grows - Drabble for WinBre Week!

ᯓ oh to grow old and plant tomatoes on your farm together... ᯓ character; umemiya hajime (wind breaker) ᯓ tags; aged up (but just because growing old and in love makes me sappy), FLUFF, afab reader, no y/n

[🐟]: for the day 1 - garden prompt! @windbreakerweek

You've been calling out his name for a while now, yet you received no response. There was no mistake that he was out here, tending to the plants again. Sometimes he gets so immersed in it that he fails to notice how hot it is. The duty of reminding him and hauling him back in the house has been designated to you.

You had to be careful, especially at this age. Getting a heatstroke and keeling over in the middle of the scorching heat would be terrible after all.

"Hajime!" you call out again. Just how far away was he from the house?

If only you knew he'd be this irresponsible, you would have stopped him from buying a land with this huge of a farm. Or maybe not... you could never find it in yourself to turn him down—not when he's smiling so earnestly at you.

You click your tongue, feeling tired from just stepping through the rows of crops the two of you worked hard to nurture. "Hajime! Where are you?"

Finally. You see head of white hair poking out from a few rows away from you. Your eyes met each other's and despite your annoyance, a smile creeps on your face. He was a hardheaded man, but seeing the joys of a simple life reflected on his face made your heart swell.

"You missed me already? I've only been out for an hour," he teases with the familiar twinkle in his eyes.

"Say whatever you want, darling. I'd prefer if you stay inside for now and drank some water."

He stood up, dusting his pants. But it was all in naught because he wiped his dirty hands on his white tee anyway. It was a habit of his and at this point it was impossible to correct.

"I'll be inside in a sec. Just need to—" he pauses to stretch his back. "Relocate some of these tomatoes somewhere else."

He never said a thing, but you noticed in his mannerisms that his back was giving him trouble lately. You stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his aching back.

"How about we do it together later when it's not so hot?"

Hajime sighs, glancing over at the tomatoes that shone a bit under the sun. He'd prefer to get it over with, but he couldn't pass up on the chance to do some farm work with you. "Alright, fine. Let's head back for now."

Even though his hands were covered in soil, you squeezed it hard when he held yours. There was an inexplicable feeling when he'd take you by the hand and lead you around the farm. It reminded you when the two of you were younger—you'd run around the empty parts of the field, giggling like idiots.

It wasn't possible now because the two of you had filled most of the land with healthy and beautiful crops. As nostalgic as it was, you loved how fulfilled it seemed. It was like a testament to your marriage and to your love.

"Sometimes I miss being young," he starts, as if he read your mind. "Back then I'd have no trouble crouching down all day and taking care of my plants."

You squeezed his hand in reassurance once more. "All that fighting getting to you now huh?"

A rich chuckle erupts from his chest. "Guess you're right, darling. But I don't regret a single thing."

The two of you continue your trek back to the house. The sun still shone brightly, but his body blocked it. All you could see was his broad back—the same back that carried Furin and your family on its shoulders.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn't noticed that you were already at the fence that separated the main house from the farm. Hajime easily unlocked the gate with one hand and it opened with the creaking sound you've heard everyday for the past 20 or so years you've been living here.

That gate had a Pavlov effect on you. Whenever you heard it, you knew that Hajime was done farming and that you'd have to wait by him at the door where he'd collect his end-of-the-day kiss.

It seems like the kids have caught on to it as well. As soon as the gate closed, they were already there—running towards their beloved parents. A little girl and a little boy went to either parent and gave them a hug.

You had other older kids who had moved out some time ago. These two came later in your lives. Initially, you were worried, but Hajime got rid of your fears.

"The more the merrier!" he would say. Hajime did love kids after all.

He pat both of their heads. "Hehe, you guys missed me too? Your mama sure did."

"Hajime..."

He feigns innocence. "Mama missed me, right? She got all grumpy again, didn't she?"

The two rascals, who took after their father (way too much), nodded along. You playfully narrowed your eyes at them.

Hajime sure loved your reactions to your family banter. He clapped his hands. "Alright. Let's go inside and make some orange juice."

"Yeah! Orange juice!" the kids cheered in unison.

"Let's all go to the farm together later hm? How about that?" Hajime asked the kids as they began walking back to the house.

You were left to stand a good distance away from them—admiring your kids and the man that helped you raise them. He turned back to look at you, smiling and gesturing for you to come along.

Well... you've truly come a long way.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[cheriladycl01]

Back in my Day - Fernando Alonso x AustralianOlympicBoxing! Reader

Plot: Becoming a full time paddock WAG after pregnancy and a bad boxing injury and how you wouldn’t change anything in your life!

“Do you ever miss it?” He asks as he joins you in the motor home after just going fastest in FP2. He starts to pull you into a little sweaty hug, which you don’t mind as your used to it with you both being athletes.

“Miss what?” You ask walking round cleaning up after your guys son and daughter who were currently out getting ice cream with the mechanics.

“The adrenaline of a fight, the way the gloves feel, the smell of the ring?” He asks with a distant look in his eyes.

“Of course I do, sometimes I wish I could go back just to see if I’ve still got it. But there’s more important things in my life now than boxing and … I’ve made my country proud. I want to focus on everything I missed out on when I was younger. I want to see the world with you and our kids and I want to be a present mum you know, not of fighting in a boxing ring every week” you sigh, squatting while looking up at him, half cleaning half giving him your attention.

A loud sigh comes from his as he sets himself on the sofa.

“Why what’s got you thinking about this” you ask, standing up and taking a seat next to him with a pat on his thigh.

“I just … sometimes I think back to the incident with you and how worried I was seeing you that injured. I mean … I thought you died in that ring and I know it can’t be easy to watch me in the car and I’m just thinking maybe … maybe it’s time I think about retiring?” He asks almost quietly like he’s afraid to admit what he truly had been thinking.

“Fernando it wouldn’t surprise me if your 60 and racing and scaring the living daylights out of me” you laugh looking over him.

“I’m being serious, I’ve seen how … attentive you are with the kids … and me and I think it’s time I want that life too. I’ve been playing a F1 playboy for far to long. I want to come home, wherever that is as long as I’m with you, you are my home” he smiles and tears fill your eyes.

“Fernando I love you” you kiss him.

“How do you deal with not having it in your life anymore?” He asks into your neck, making it come out a bit muffled.

“Well I have a lot of other stuff that I focus on. And I still do it, I teach it in a gym to kids and I do training in our gym so it’s not fully gone. And the feeling of winning and improving after a loss is something that is more nostalgic than anything. I don’t miss it necessarily, but it’s nice to look back on and think of what I did. Winning gold twice and silver once!” You smile, looking up in a thoughtful way.

“Hmmmmm that sounds, kind of peaceful” he offers and you laugh a little.

“Yeah I guess you could say it is. But Fernando, racing is a part of you, like boxing IS a part of me. It never really leaves you, no matter whether that’s because you continue until you physically can’t and break the record for oldest racing driver, or you own a karting track in Spain and train the next generation … or you become a manager for our son who no doubt will be a world champion with the way he looks up to you or even doing a Nico Rosberg and become a journalist… but baby, the world of F1 will never ever leave you” you assure your husband.

“You’ve made me even more confused on my deduction now” he sighs laughing and rubbing a hand over his face.

“Well whatever that decision is, I’ll be here for you” you smile.

“You know, I remember that one time, I think it was the 2012 Olympics in London, before the accident when you were so convinced you weren’t going to get gold and then you just all of a sudden had this ambition in your eyes … what was that” he asks.

“You, honesty. Your pep talk” you smile kissing his cheek.

“What do you think I should do?” He asks looking at you with the face of a lost puppy.

“That’s not a choice I can make for you my love” you smile at him patting his head leaving him to his thoughts while you go to find the kids.

Fernando stays with his own thoughts for a little before he saunters out to go find you.

As he rounds a corner he sees you messing about with the kids and Lance and it’s a sight to behold. One he can’t help but think he misses far to often.

But was he truly ready to give up his career.

“Papa” your daughter cries running over to her father the 6 year old not knowing much better than to rush off into the busy paddock lane to get to her father.

“Hello beautiful” he smiles as he picks her up, nuzzling her nose with his doing an Eskimo Kiss that they had done since she was just a baby.

Once his son came up to him, offering him an ice cream, that was starting to melt a little and starting to tell him how amazing he raced today his choice was clearer than ever.

Family came first.

y/user

Liked by fernandoalo_oficial and astonmartinf1

y/user: Life Recently. Love my kids, guess the husband is okay 👍🏼

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astonmartinf1: MOTHER 👏🏼

fan1: omg I want her life so bad

fernandoalo_oficial: my gorgeous wife! I will ignore the caption!

-> y/user: you know I joke 🥰

fan2: her and Fernando bantering makes my life

lancestroll: when will I get to see the kids again!

-> y/user: next race my first son 🤣🫶🏼

-> fan3: Y/N and Fernandos first child Lance Alonso

hater1: gold digger

-> y/user: more like gold medalist … 🥇

Instagram Story Caption:

Back at it mate 🫶🏼 🇦🇺

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[revasserium]

nxx #2 - the best part

artem.

you are the best part of a monday morning, the soft click of heels, the whish of automatic doors, the light tap-tap of fingers on tablets. he knows just where you’ll be, a soft frown caught between your eyebrows; sometimes, when during meetings, or even just when he’s passing by your desk, he wishes he could reach over to smooth it over with a fingertip. when it’s late enough, he thinks about trying. other times, when it’s late-late enough — he actually does. and he’d sink into your startled gasp of laughter, the way you go slightly cross-eyed as he leans back to grin, shaking his head, “don’t frown like that… your face will get stuck.” and when you crinkle your nose and swat at his hand, your cheeks going the kind of pink that makes him think of every single sunset he’s yet to see, every single sunrise that’s still to kiss the sky, he has to stop himself from letting his fingers graze down to trace against your skin. “no it won’t…” but there’s no real conviction in your voice, and there’s something brilliant in the secret smile you share. “you’re right,” he admits, “but… i’m not sure i like it when i think about how often you frown in my presence.” he savors in the way you blush then, the way you press your lips, the startled and then resolute way you square your shoulders before saying, “then… i guess you should try to make me smile more often.” artem blinks for a second, and then — “sure… it’s a promise then. but... you’ll have to stay with me long enough for me to see it through.”

luke.

you are the best part of a september afternoon, his cardigan slipping off your shoulder as you pour through your work files. and even though he still feels some kinda way about you doing work while you’re with him — well — he looks down at his own pile of casefiles — he can’t really blame you anyway. birds of a feather and all. he grins as he glances up, only to find you smiling. “what?” you blush, looking away, “nothing — just… this is nice.” it’s his turn to blush now. and yes, he thinks, because this is what he loves — just this, just the moments in between, the quiet breaths and the unsaid words and the afternoon filtering through the autumn leaves, the coffee still lukewarm on the table between you. he takes a breath and looks at you, really looks at you — because he can’t remember a time when he didn’t know you, when he hasn’t loved you just like this — with the pure, simplicity of a september afternoon, as certain as tides, as simple as a child’s knowledge that this is the person he never wants to leave his life. “yeah,” he says, grinning broadly at you as he reaches over tug a strand of your hair between his fingers, “everything is nice when it’s with you.”

vyn.

you are the best part of every winter day, the distant, slanted light working its strange magic over the world, casting everything in its ethereal glow. “there’s just something about the winter sun,” you’d said one day, peering over towards the far horizon, shielding your eyes from the light, pausing as the pair of you walk hand in hand towards the corner store for something or other (vyn’s long since forgotten the minutia for the memory of you). he’d raised his eyebrows and cocked his head, waiting for you to continue, and after a second, you had, turning back towards him with frost-nipped cheeks and brilliant, snow-drop eyes, laughing as you wave at the casual, neighborhood scenery around you, “it makes everything look more beautiful, doesn’t it? like… it’s a dream, or some of those old fashioned picture filters…” to which vyn had smiled and gripped your hand just a bit tighter, “yes… i’ve always thought that winter was the most nostalgic season. it makes you miss a time that hasn’t yet come to pass. perhaps… a future with someone you love, no?” and he’d watched, fascinated, enraptured as you’d blushed and turned away, tugging him behind you, mumbling something about being unfair. and he thinks that if anyone were ever unfair — it’d undoubtedly be you.

marius.

you are the best part of a friday night — your laughter like the city lights, your smile, a million moons in a million distant skies, the shape of you dozing beside him in the back of limo, your cheeks kissed pink from all the wine. he thinks he could cup forever in the palm of his hands like this, thread your fingers with his and suddenly, he’s more sober than he’s ever been in his entire life, watching you nodding off next to him. he thinks he can see the next twenty, thirty, shit forty years of his life flashing outside along with the neon-night-skies, the way your lashes cast shadows along the high of your cheeks, the way your earrings rest against the bend of your neck. “mm… marius?” you ask, blinking sleepily up at him as the limo pulls to a quiet halt at a stoplight, your perfume making an absolute mess of his mind, and he has to clear his throat to hide just how many butterflies had exploded in the pit of his stomach at the sound of your sleep-sweetened voice — “i-it’s late… you can keep sleeping if you want… i’ll wake you up when we get home.” to which you’d leaned up and pressed as soft kiss to his cheek and it takes everything inside him not to pull you to him, press you into the limo seat and kiss you till the entire world melts away, “thanks… you should sleep too,” you say, nuzzling into the side of his neck, your breath chasing shivers up and down his spine. “y-yeah… i — i’ll try."

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

I was so angry earlier can we go back to that

[aventurineswife]

aaaaaa Hello!!! I absolutely love your writing :D

May I request burnt out reader who had a passion for the performing arts (singing or dancing, up to you) but quit when they were much younger with Dan Heng and Jing Yuan? Maybee Reader and character were walking around when they came across a street performance and reader immediately stops and watches while they get all nostalgic and sad and wished they could go back to those times but isn't sure if they can and just goes through it.

Feel free to do this with more characters! Sorry if this request may be a bit much 🥲 Thank you!

“And in the end, we only regret the chances we didn’t take”

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Angst, Reflection, Emotional Healing, Self-Doubt, Nostalgia, Quiet Support, Romance (Potential).

Warnings: Mentions of past emotional struggles, Mild existential reflection, Themes of self-doubt and giving up on dreams, Light angst.

A/N: HELLLO!!! 🤭💖 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LOVING MY WORKS, I APPRECIATE IT!! DON'T WORRY IT'S NOT MUCH!! I ENJOYED IT! ;)

The streets of the city were quiet, with only the gentle hum of distant voices and the rhythmic tap of boots on the cobblestones accompanying the evening air. Dan Heng walked beside you, his usual reserved silence in place, as the two of you made your way through the bustling market district. The lights of nearby shops flickered, illuminating the occasional passerby, and the faint scent of street food filled the air.

You had been quiet for a while, your gaze drifting over the various sights and sounds, until a faint melody caught your ear. It was soft, almost melancholic, yet undeniably familiar. Without thinking, you stopped in your tracks, your heart skipping a beat as a street performer spun in graceful movements, their lithe form dancing with the flow of the music. They twirled, each step measured and light, as if the music itself was guiding their every motion.

Dan Heng halted beside you, his eyes narrowing slightly, sensing a shift in your demeanor. He wasn’t sure what had caused it, but there was something about the way you stood—still, lost in the performance—that made his quiet curiosity stir. He could feel the weight of your sudden melancholy in the air.

You stood there, transfixed, as memories flooded your mind—days long past when you had been part of something similar, when your heart had danced along with the music, and every note had felt like an extension of yourself. Singing. Dancing. Performing. The passions you once had now seemed so distant, buried under the weight of time and life's expectations. You had stepped away from it all, too afraid of failure, too scared of never being good enough. And now, watching the dancer perform, that ache in your chest returned—a sharp pang of longing for something you thought you'd lost forever.

"I used to dance, you know." you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dan Heng glanced at you, his expression as unreadable as ever. He didn’t respond immediately, but the way his sharp gaze lingered on you suggested he was listening intently.

"I was passionate about it... but I gave it up," you continued, almost as if speaking to yourself. "I guess I was too scared. Too... burnt out. I was never going to be as good as everyone else, so I just stopped." You let out a soft sigh, pulling your gaze away from the dancer, focusing on the ground instead. "I don’t know if I could ever go back to it, even if I wanted to."

There was a long pause before Dan Heng spoke, his voice calm yet firm. "Sometimes, it's not about being the best. It's about doing what you love." His words were simple but cut through the noise of your thoughts, their weight carrying more meaning than you expected.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, finding a quiet strength in his steady eyes. Despite his own burdens and the weight of his past, Dan Heng understood something essential about resilience. His own journey of running from his past was, in a way, not unlike yours—both of you had stepped away from what you once cherished, not because you didn't want it, but because you didn’t know how to face it anymore.

“I don’t know if I can," you murmured, the sadness in your heart lingering. "But I can’t seem to forget it, either."

Dan Heng didn’t offer a solution. Instead, he simply stood beside you, the quiet understanding between you both settling like a protective blanket. In that moment, it wasn’t about finding the answers—it was about being present. And in that silent company, you realized maybe it was enough to simply remember. You didn’t need to decide everything right now.

As the music played on, you closed your eyes for a brief moment, letting the melody wash over you, just for a second.

The lanterns hanging from the market stalls cast a soft golden glow over the street, creating a serene atmosphere that contrasted with the usual bustle of the city. Jing Yuan walked leisurely beside you, his expression as calm as ever, though his eyes seemed to take in everything around him, as if calculating every detail of the scene.

"You seem quieter than usual," he remarked, his voice smooth and easy, the tone one of subtle curiosity.

You smiled faintly but didn’t answer immediately. Your thoughts were elsewhere, drifting back to a time when everything seemed simpler, when life had a rhythm and flow that came naturally. As you walked, the sounds of a distant performance drifted toward you—soft notes of music followed by the rhythmic tapping of a dancer’s feet on the pavement. You stopped, almost instinctively, and Jing Yuan, ever observant, followed your gaze.

Before you, a performer swirled in elegant, fluid movements, her body graceful as she danced in time with the music, each step full of passion and life. A pang of nostalgia hit you as you stood frozen, watching the performer’s every move. It was like watching a reflection of your former self—vibrant, alive with energy, and so in tune with the music. A version of you that now seemed so distant, locked away in the past.

Jing Yuan, sensing the shift in your demeanor, slowed his pace, standing just behind you. He was quiet, allowing you the space to reflect, but there was an unmistakable knowing look in his golden eyes.

"I used to perform," you said after a long pause, your voice soft and almost wistful. "Singing... dancing... it was all I ever wanted to do. But... I gave it up. Too much pressure, too many expectations. I was good, but not good enough, I guess." You let out a sigh, feeling the familiar ache in your chest. "Now, I’m not sure I could ever go back. I don’t think I have the strength to try again."

Jing Yuan’s gaze softened, though his expression remained stoic. He stood still for a moment, considering your words, before finally speaking. "It is easy to give up on something when the weight of the world presses down on you," he said, his voice laced with an unexpected tenderness. "But sometimes, the hardest part isn’t starting again. It’s letting yourself be vulnerable enough to want it again."

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze. His words were simple but profound, carrying a wisdom that felt like a quiet nudge toward something you hadn’t allowed yourself to consider. Could you go back? Could you allow yourself to dream again?

Jing Yuan’s lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Whether you choose to pursue it or not, the past doesn’t have to define you. It can simply be a part of who you are."

You looked back at the dancer, the melody drifting on the air, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to remember what it felt like to be fully immersed in something you loved. No promises, no expectations—just the possibility of finding joy once more.

Jing Yuan didn’t push further. He simply stood beside you, his presence as steady as the passing wind, offering nothing more than quiet support. There was no rush, no urgency—just the understanding that, when the time was right, you’d figure it out.

As the performance continued, you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the music fill the space where uncertainty had once been.