#I considered making it two posts but eh

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

one odd thing about going deeper is that I'm no longer satisfied with shallower. and that's, weirdly enough, a net positive. I've self harmed - eh, twice? in the last month. both were well into the criteria that should have got sutures and ignored it; suspect I hit a vein once and was extremely close to muscle, which feels kind of odd. yeah, it's ramped up; yeah, there's a lot of blood and all that kind of stuff. very high risk of infection, potential nerve damage and all that kind of stuff (though I have not got either of them; I scared off an infection that wanted to hang round by chucking quantities of alcohol on it). but at the same time. that's only twice. that's a lot better than previously.

[dexaroth]

I wonder how badly AI will impact the storage spaces of basically every website given how um. Immediate you can make them images

guess we should start bracing for mass inactive account deletions (harder than before ofc bc its an inevitability)

[wonderjanga]

Marvel and the YJ

So, Marvel in the YJ. He’s one of their den mothers and all that. So like, in this AU, and in fact in all of my posts so far, Billy’s kept it under wraps that he’s a kid. So, as a result, the YJ think he’s just this really cool big brother (dad (they just don’t know it)) type of dude. Like he’s so nice. And he’s so nice to them especially. Like, he treats all of them the same way he treats adults. He doesn’t doubt their abilities, and when they fail, he’s still there to encourage them to get back up and he doesn’t even make them feel bad about it.

Like, the one time he was asked to spar with the YJ cause they wanted to for funsies I guess, he positively whooped their asses and somehow, someway found a way to still compliment their abilities, even if they didn’t last that long because the battle was a little one-sided. To be fair though, they had asked him not to go easy, which he didn’t. In the end, he got promptly scolded by Canary heavily when she found out he quite literally used Kid Flash as a rag doll and threw him at Aqualad. She said that the entire tape of him having a “friendly spar” with those kids, was essentially just him bullying them. To which Billy tried to defend himself by saying those kids were plenty capable. The defense didn’t work.

Then, there was this time Kon mentioned he couldn’t fly and Marvel offered him a lift. This somehow ended up with Marvel sort of T posing mid air as Kon and Robin hung on one arm, Artemis and Aqualad hung on the other arm, then Kid Flash held onto one leg while M’gann held onto the other.

Flash: “Wow.” *looking up at the YJ and Marvel* “That’s… actually kinda majestic, not gonna lie.”

Superman: *also looking up at Marvel and the YJ* “Is it though? What if one of them falls?”

Flash: “Eh. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Kid Flash proceeds to almost slip off and fall, which almost gives both the speedster and Kryptonian a heart attack. Thankfully, he catches himself by moving his feet really fast to boost himself back up. Worst part in their opinion is that Marvel didn’t even seem to notice.

Then, there was the time M’gann with Robin about something. Batman was also working nearby on a computer.

M’gann: “Hmm… We need advice.”

Robin!Tim: “We need an adult.”

Batman: *keeping an ear out cause he’s always happy to help one of his kids*

M’gann and Robin!Tim: *thinking before they speak up at the same time* “Marvel.” *they then both walk out of the room to find the Captain*

Batman: *a little upset that Tim did didn’t come to him for help but also a lot more concerned as to why they thought Marvel was a suitable choice to ask for advice, especially considering the fact that just earlier that day, he had caught the man scribbling on one of the meeting tables like a 5th grader scribbling on their desk*

Contrary to what Bruce thought might happen (I.e. something going wrong) apparently Marvel’s advice wasn’t too bad, seeing nothing had gone wrong yet. (He later found out that the two had asked for the best advice on how to incapacitate your enemy quickly. He found this out when he saw Tim throat punch a man. Said man went down almost immediately. When prodded for information for as to why he did that, he proudly proclaimed “Cap taught me”)

Also a little tidbit from the Marvel Cursing post about the YJ thinking that Marvel called one of them a dumb cunt. Courtesy to @helps-the-writing-brain-go

Billy’s recently noticed that the kids are acting funny. Though, he supposes it’s not a bad funny. If anything, whatever’s got them acting weird has got them doing better on missions, but still. It’s weird. What’s weirder is that whenever he compliments them, they shine twice as brighter than they normally do. What’s even weirder than that is that whenever they’ve messed up recently they look twice as nervous. Speaking of which, this was one of the moments they’ve messed up.

Marvel: “So… Uh- that didn’t go so well.”

YJ: *obvious signs of anxiousness on some and subtle on others*

Marvel: “But that’s okay! But that’s okay.” *trying his best to make the anxiety in them disappear* “We just have to try to be better next time. Like, and I hate to say this, maybe try calling in an adult next time? Like me? I could’ve zoomed over and helped you guys.”

YJ: *look at each other*

Artemis: “Wally’s the one who said that we shouldn’t call you in a try to do this on our own.”

Kid Flash: *dramatic gasp* “You know why I said that! It would’ve helped us all if Kaldur had tried to put the fires near the gas tanks out with his water powers!”

Aqualad: “I was busy being attacked by nearly five different people.”

YJ: *dissolve into arguing*

Marvel: “Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wally what did you mean by it would’ve helped you all? Me not being there would’ve been good?” *confused*

YJ: *immediate silence*

Kon: “Wally found out that you think one of us is dumb cunt.”

Kid Flash: “Dude! You guys need to stop ratting me out!”

Marvel: “What.” *stares in befuddlement*

M’gann: “And then he told us. So we’ve been trying to think of ways to not be uh… dumb cunts.”

Marvel: *blinks rapidly* “Again, what? Wally, where did you get this information from?”

Kid Flash: “When you were making cookies! I heard you say blah blah blah, what a dumb cunt.”

Marvel: *still staring in confusion*

Kid Flash: “Then, when I asked what you were talking about, Mary said you were talking about our performance on missions.”

Marvel: “…Okay. I’m going to be completely honest with you. I don’t remember a thing of what you’re talking about.”

Marvel then goes on to make a speech about how they’re wonderful heroes who shouldn’t let one person’s words guide them, especially in risky situations like a mission. He then told them that he was now going to stress bake and make some Minnesota cool whip, jello, fruit, not really salad, salad. (Courtesy to @jedipirateking) On the bright side though, the speech did leave the teens feeling better.

[redr0sewrites]

not possible - Viktor x reader

🥀A/n: this was originally a request but it strayed wayyy too far off course... the writing had a mind of its own and im not sorry. but i AM sorry for not posting in a while.... ive been super hyperfixated on DC sorry

🥀Cw: fluff, non-sexual nudity, bathing, exhaustion/overworking

🥀Word Count: 1.2k words

🥀Synopsis: Viktor is overworking yet again, yet upon your insistence, finally takes a break.

Viktor was well aware that the candle at his side had long since burnt out, yet he was unwilling to find a replacement. the moon was bright tonight, and, combined with the soft blue glow emitting from the hextech he was working on, Viktor could make out the tools in front of him without any assistance.

he knew that working in the dim light was not a good idea, considering how straining ones' eyes could lead to faulty vision, but he couldn't bring himself to care. the ache in his bones ran deep, and his fingers shook with each breath. of course Viktor knew he should turn in for the night, but he found himself stuck in his chair, mindlessly fiddling with his most recent hextech project.

he was so engrossed in his work, he barely noticed your approach until you were practically on top of him. familiar hands find purchase on his shoulders and he jumps, only to melt back into your touch.

"ah, it's you," Viktor murmurs, turning around to face you. "may i ask, what are you doing up so late?"

"collecting you," you murmur, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. "it's already two in the morning. you've been here long enough."

Viktor sighs, and allows you to press a few more kisses to his face. the bags beneath his eyes were heavy, he was stiff and sore, and above all, he was exhausted.

joining you back home was certainly enticing, and hextech could always wait until tomorrow. and yet, the troublesome, burning itch beneath his skin wouldn't dissipate. he needed to complete just one more ruin combination, just finish this one little task, and then he'd let himself rest. at least, that's what he'd been telling himself for the past three hours.

"i can tell your overworking yourself again," you whisper, and Viktor huffs indignantly.

"overworking is, eh, a strong word. i am perfectly capable-" you cut him off by cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

"Viktor, i am in no way denying your capabilities. however, you still need sleep. so, come back with me, and you can continue working tomorrow after a full nights rest. does that work?"

Viktor heaves another weary sigh, but agrees. you silently watch as he stands and steadies himself with his cane, not wanting to appear too overbearing but still concerned about his exhaustion. you wish you could alleviate some of the stress and burden that he carries, even though he relentlessly assured you that loving him was enough.

meanwhile, Viktor wordlessly packs up for the night. he knew you were trying to mask it for his own dignity, but the concern on your face was evident in the slightest furrow of your brow and pinch of your lips. he found it hopelessly endearing how you worried over him, and only wished that you would stop for your own sake.

after all, he was doing this for you. for the chance to live happily with you someday, after saving the lives of so many others. hextech consumed so much of his time, yet Viktor intended to make it up to you tenfold when you two would grow old together.

"you ready to head home?" your voice slices through his thoughts like a knife through warm butter, and he finds himself unable to do anything but nod. you did not hesitate to take his hand as you two walk back towards your shared abode, nor did you complain when he had to pause and catch his breath after some particularly bad pain in his leg. by the time you both arrived at your home, Viktor felt even more exhausted.

"i know it's late, but do you want to take a bath before going to bed?" your question lingers in the air for a few seconds before Viktor nods, and you begin setting up. you both know the warm water would only soothe his aching joints, and provide momentary relief from the pain he suffers from.

🥀

its not long before you and Viktor are curled against eachother in your large bathtub after washing off. he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he absentmindedly washed your back, and you let out a relaxed sigh. you were both night-owls, but Viktor was much more accustomed to fighting off exhaustion.

you bite down on your bottom lip as more worries begin to seep into your mind. you feel almost selfish for missing him when he works so hard, and yet you want nothing more than to take all of his stress away. Viktor is quick to notice as you slip deeper in thought, between your tense muscles and quickened breathing, he can read you like a book.

"what are you thinking about, darling?"

another weary sigh escapes you.

"its just... you've been so stressed lately, i just wish i could alleviate some of the burdens you carry.. i know what you do is important, but i still wish i could be around you more often and help you.. y'know?" you let out another sigh. "i just.. miss you sometimes. and i worry. you know i worry.." Viktor chuckles at your words before turning you around to face him, the warm water around you both sloshing gently against the edge of the bath.

"you do more than enough already. believe me, everything i do, i do for you. for us. i love you," he murmurs, and presses a kiss to your forehead, "and nothing will change that. i can't guarantee that i'll always be around... but i will try to stop staying in the lab so late." Viktor's lips crinkle into a soft smile, and you can't help but kiss him in response.

Viktor always feels as though he's floating when you kiss. your soft lips against his, the contrast of his nimble, calloused hands against your smooth skin, your scent, your taste, it was all gloriously intoxicating. you hum against his lips before slowly pulling away, lashes fluttering against his cheek from your proximity.

Viktor leans in to whisper in your ear, his lips just ghosting your temple.

"i think it's high time we went to bed, dear. the waters getting cold, and i wouldn't want my beautiful darling to be exhausted tomorrow, hm?" you sigh at his flattery, yet agree regardless. as Viktor leans against the tub to stand up, you suddenly remember something and grab his hand to get his attention.

"hm?"

"by the way, about what you said earlier.... i love you more."

"that is not possible, my dearest."

GRRR SO HAPPY THIS IS DONE LMAO- sorry i havent been super active ive been on a huge DC kick (specifically the batfam/dick grayson) and suffering from writers block BUT HERE I AM AGAIN!!!!!!!!! ANYWAYS HOPE U ENJOYEDDDD PLS FEEL FREE TO SEND IN REQUESTS (esp dc... HEHE)

[indulgentdaydream]

I added these two together. I hope you guys don’t mind! Since I added them together I’m also making this a two parter. My first one ever!!

Comparisons Pt.1

Jason Todd x Jealous!Insecure!Fem!Reader || Angst/Fluff || Word Count: 2,488

Part 2

Warnings: not proofread as of yet. Maybe will after i post who knows

After a six hour morning shift as a dishwasher, you were ready to head home.

It was the early afternoon, your shift having ended at 12. It was sunny. Warm, but not too hot. You were still in your work clothes, simple black pants and a black t shirt, your tote bag full of belongings over your shoulder. It was nice weather for the half hour walk you had back to your apartment. Better than the weather you’ve faired before.

Jason usually picked you up after your shifts, no matter where he was, as long as he wasn’t on patrol. He never wanted you to be seen in public near the Red Hood. He didn’t want you as a target.

“It’s bad enough I come straight here after patrol some nights.” He had said once.

“I’m just that irresistible, eh?” You had smiled.

He laughed, kissing your shoulder, “Damn right, baby.”

This day, though, you knew he was busy with a certain case he was working on. One he wouldn’t tell you about. He had been hard at work on it for the last few weeks, barely able to make much time for you. You didn’t mind. He tried as much as he could, even if it ended up being a five minute phone call, or a visit in the middle of night in between beaten-up thugs.

The sun hits your face and warms your skin in a comfortable way. Your headphones blocked out the Gotham noise, making the moment more enjoyable. Your favourite music instead of honking horns, sounds of engines, distant sirens, and people yelling.

You were stuck in your own world. You began thinking of asking Jason if he wanted to take you for a ride on his bike later. If he was free. You knew it’d be hard for him to say no. He loved taking you for rides. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know that.

You turn a corner, stuck in your head. Thinking about what you were going to do when you got home. You weren’t used to the morning shift.

You start your walk down the road, passing busy storefronts. Crystal shops. Pet stores. Mostly cafés and diners. You briefly considered working as a dishwasher at one of these places instead so you didn’t have to walk as far.

Maybe you and Jason could go to a diner tonight? That was a hopeful thought. There wouldn’t be time.

You’re walking past the third outdoor seating that takes up most of the sidewalk, small bistro tables hidden from the sun by large, white, beach-style umbrellas. Nearly identical to the two others you had passed, only different colour schemes.

You stare straight ahead, the extended seating narrowing the sidewalk and making it harder for people to walk around. You’re nearly halfway past the café when a hand reaches over breaching the shaded area and entering the sunlight to gently grasp onto your wrist.

You’re already twisting, ready to pull the mace Jason had bought you (though you more-so believe stolen from Batman himself, as you could see where he had scratched out the bat symbol on the canister) out of your tote bag and aim, when your eyes land on the owner of the arm, stretched across the thin barrier separating the seating from the sidewalk.

It’s Jason. His face hidden behind sunglasses, a small frown on his lips as he looks up at you from the shade. He waits for you to slip off your headphones before speaking.

“I was waving to you,” his thumb absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand. “You didn’t see?”

“Sorry,” You smile in relief at him, stepping closer to the barricade so as not to impede the flow of foot traffic. “I was more focused on getting around.”

There was someone sitting across from him. You didn’t think much of it at first. You saw red hair. That was regular with Jason, since he was always hanging around with Roy. Or Kory.

That’s who you thought it was. Roy. Nothing different at all. You turned to greet him, a smile ready on your face.

The second you clocked the pretty face, the waist-long, flowing, shiny red hair, your smile faltered.

Artemis gave you a sincere, friendly smile, her fingers swirling her straw in her cup.

Something churned in your stomach, “Hello.”

Jason’s grip on your wrist tightened slightly once, speaking up, “Why didn’t you call me to pick you up?”

You look back to him, “You said you were busy today.”

He frowns again. Technically, he had never said that. But it was true.

“Sit with us,” Artemis said, pointing behind her. “The entrance is there. We’re almost done anyways. Jason can drive you the rest of the way.”

You nodded, sending the best smile back to Artemis that you could muster in the moment.

As you approached, Jason reached towards the empty table behind him, flipping the chair and placing it at their own table, in between him and Artemis, facing where you had just been standing.

Something in the back of your mind noted how he didn’t even stand to do it, his face still pointed towards Artemis, his eyes concealed by his shades, hiding his expression. You sit down, placing your tote bag on the ground beside on, on your right, between you and Jason.

He picked it up and moved it onto the table without a word.

“This is my girlfriend,” Jason introduces you, his hands back on the table, folded in front of him. “This is Artemis. She’s helping me with my case.”

You nod, your mouth suddenly dry as she smiles at you again, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she smiles again, stretching out plump lips to present straight, shiny teeth.

Jason’s quick goes back to talking with her about whatever they had been talking about before you had walked past, wrapping things up.

You weren’t even capable of listening at this point.

You trusted Jason. You’d always trust Jason. This was for the case and nothing more. You knew that.

Jason had never really spoke about Artemis before. He had mentioned her once, in the early months of your relationship. You had done something. He had later asked you not to, saying he had a bad memory of it from his ex. He had never even mentioned her name. You knew he didn’t like talking about her.

However, you had been out with Jason and Roy at a bar once. Roy had briefly mentioned Jason’s ex, since she was included in the story. Jason had changed the topic fast after that. Then when he’d gotten up to use to washroom, you’d asked Roy to tell you more about her.

“Just what she looks like,” You reasoned. “So I can recognize her if need be.”

Roy hesitated in telling you, but he still did.

You trusted Jason. However, you were losing trust in Roy. He had never mentioned how gorgeous this woman is.

Her skin was smooth. Not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help it. Her hair was perfect. Her skin flawless. On further inspection you even realized she wasn’t wearing any makeup.

She wasn’t wearing any makeup and she looked that good?

Artemis lifted her coffee cup to her lips, nodding to something Jason was saying. Nothing you understood, anyways. Even if you were listening. You caught sight of her flexed arm as she finished off the drink. She was strong. Probably worked out nearly as much as Jason, but far more slim than he was. But in a good way.

She smiled again, wide, displaying her pearly whites. You ran a tongue over your own teeth, pursing your lips quietly in thought. Yours weren’t anywhere near that.

Your arms suddenly felt itchy as you looked over Artemis’ again. You looked down. You needed to take your eyes off of her. You were being stupid. Jason had broken up with her. Jason had picked you. He had been dating you for nearly a year and a half.

Your eyes drifted to your own arms, spots of acne along biceps. No definition in sight. Your under eye bags suddenly felt like they were on broadcast. Your face felt gritty, your hand coming up to absentmindedly scratch at the break out you had along your cheek. The frizz of your own hair visible in the corner of your eyes.

You looked back up, looking out at the busy street. Jason had chosen you. Jason loved you. Jason kissed you everyday and always made sure to tell you how much he loved you.

Except in the past few weeks while he had been busy with this case.

Had he been working with her this whole time?

You glanced back down as Jason placed his hand on your knee. He always did this when you guys were out. You look back up at him. He’s leaning on the table with her other arm, straight-faced, nodding along to something Artemis was saying. Even her voice is pretty. Her tone carrying a confidence you were failing to find in the moment.

You looked back down to your own legs, Jason’s thumb moving lightly back and forth over the side of your knee. He didn’t even know he was doing it. He never did.

You looked over to Artemis’ legs, hidden underneath a pair of jeans. Even then you could see how skinny hers were. Could see that her thighs weren’t spilling off the sides of the small metal bistro chair.

Soon enough, she was standing, beginning to say her goodbyes. You swallowed thickly. She was tall too. An amazon, you remember Roy mentioning. How could you forget.

The crop top she was wearing fit her nicely, showing off her toned stomach and even dipping down at the neckline to show some cleavage.

You looked away, your arms folding across your stomach, hiding your own torso.

She smiles at Jason. You quickly look to Jason and find him smiling, too. A genuine smile. One he had yet to give you while you’d been sitting here.

You’re his girlfriend, you remind yourself. He loves you.

She smiles at you and gives her farewell. You can only nod. You watch as she leaves.

God. She was nice, too. Nicer than you had wanted to be to her.

She walks in the direction you had come from. Her hair flowing behind her, an expensive-looking purse hanging from her shoulder. Most men walking past stop to turn and look at her. She ignored them all.

That never happened to you. In fact, Jason had been the first guy to ever even ask you out. You never understood why you were his choice. Not when he was able to pull women like that.

Jason pats your knee and pulls you out of your thoughts, “Want to get anything before we go?”

You can’t even face him. She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. A fucking amazonian warrior.

You stare down at the table, catching sight of your own hands. Your nails worn from your shift at the restaurant, fingertips still wrinkled from the water.

Why the hell would he ever stay with you if she was still in his life?

“No.” You finally answer. “Thank you.”

He nodded, sighing as he fished out his wallet to pay for their coffees. He counts the bills and change, speaking with his head down, “How many times have I told you not to walk around with your headphones on?”

You lift your head to look at him, “What?”

He doesn’t look at you, his eyes still hidden by his shades. “Your headphones. You get so lost in your music you couldn’t even see me waving to get your attention.”

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table, “I was looking past you. I didn’t expect to see you—”

“I was calling your name, too. If your headphones were off then you could’ve heard me.” He tossed a twenty onto the table, leaning forward on his elbows to look at you. “Anyone could sneak up on you.”

You pursed your lips, your brows tightening at him.

Why did she get a smile and not me?

Jason gestured to your bag on the table, “Same with this. The hell you putting it on the floor for? You wouldn’t notice it was taken until far too late—”

“You don’t have to drive me,” you interrupted. “I’ll walk.”

Jason cocked his head slightly, looking genuinely curious, “Why? Car’s right over there—“

“I’ll walk.” You repeated. Firmly.

You needed the walk. You had to try and work the jealousy out of your mind before you got into it with Jason. You didn’t want to argue. Not now. Not in public.

Jason sighed, running a hand over his mouth, “Don’t be like that.” He started to stand, his keys jingling in his hand, “Come on.”

He reached to take your bag for you, a large brown envelope already in his hand. Whatever Artemis had given him.

You reached out and snatched it from his hand. You stood, throwing it over your shoulder. “I’ll walk.”

Jason stared at you for a moment, seemingly frozen in place.

He sighed through his nose, “What’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath trying to control your emotions. This was stupid. Jason had broken up with her for a reason. Had been dating you for the last year and a half for a reason.

Unfortunately, your mouth was working faster than your mind, “Don’t act like you didn’t start this.”

Jason pushed his shoulders back. He tried again, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, frustrated.

“Fine,” he stuffed his free hand in his pocket. “Just don’t be wearing your headphones while walking around.“

You were tired. Your shift had been long. You were worked up from your mind running all the comparisons between you and Artemis. It was still running them, you suppose, as otherwise you wouldn’t have said, “I guess you wouldn’t have to worry about her all the time. She can handle herself.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his first shown emotion since that smile he’d given her, “Who?” Then they shot up almost just as quickly. “Artemis? Is that was this is about?”

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment at his realization. He’d figured you out.

His shoulders tensed, “Do you really not trust me?”

The way he had said it, his tone, has made it sound like the silliest thing in the world. Now it made you feel even stupider. Of course you trusted him.

You caught people staring in the corner of your vision. You ducked your head back down.

You gripped your tote bag at the straps over your shoulder and stormed off.

You heard Jason call your name as you passed by him again, on the other side of the barrier, headed back to your apartment.

Hope you guys enjoyed!! Pt 2 will be out later this week!!

Update!! Part 2 is here!!!

Part 2

[zombvic]

SUPER RICH KIDS (marc guiu x reader) pt.2 here

summary : in which fans notice a familiar footballer in the likes of their favorite "super (humble) rich kid"

face claim : wolfiecindy (+ lissie mackintosh)

notes : frank ocean come back !!!!!!!!! might make this a series... this idea came to me in a dream so it might be a lil dumb. gave them a family name and made the dads face claim toto wolff (lmfao) bcs its easier so js ignore that !!! translated spanish is questionable..

pairings : marc guiu x fem!famous!reader

y/n ramsay, the only daughter of peter ramsay, a man considered to be one of the most influential men in the world, the owner of mercedes. not just the formula one team, the whole ass car brand. he is considered a self-made multi billionaire and single dad of two. as a daughter of a man with such high status, it came with exposure. y/n had her own little fandom, girls and boys who admired her beauty, lifestyle and enjoyed her personality. the girl was beloved by many, even celebrities found her videos and instagram posts entertaining. she had a natural charm that drew people in, and amongst those people there was a certain footballer, a certain teammate of her brother known as the one and only, marc guiu.

Liked by judebellingham, marcguiu9 & 7,562,005 others.

ynramsay monaco nights

View all 11,596 comments.

user rawrwrrwrwrwrrr

user HERMOSA

nateramsay wtf without me ?

- ynramsay yeah!!! loser..

user marc and jude in the likes lmao

- user i need to see nates reaction

user + 1000000 aura for her beauty

user idk whats prettier, the view or you

user felt the aura way back in december

judebellingham what a view 😍😍

- user shes not picking u jude (visca el barca!!)

- user marc fight back ???

liked by marcguiu9

Liked by judebellingham, marcguiu9 & 6,452,889 others.

ynramsay read the spanish love deception and now im here

View all 10,885 comments.

judebellingham madrid is better smh..

- ynramsay visca el barca bitch

peteramsay wow i look good

nateramsay where am i ???

- ynramsay dw youll get a personal post ig

marcguiu9 linda 😻 (pretty)

- nateramsay yo marc.. ¿qué carajo? 😁 (what the fuck)

- hctorforrt_ eres marc bastante idiota (you're pretty stupid marc)

Liked by hctorrforrt_, marcguiu9 & 8,222,258 others.

ynramsay @nateramsay am i doing this right ???

View all 8,368 comments.

nateramsay eh.. could be worse

user okay guys.. y/n & hector OR y/n & marc..

- user marc & y/n definetly

- user nuh uh hector and y/n would make a cute couple

- user neither???? guys omg leave them alone

user barca girls stay on top

marcguiu9 the team's lucky charm !!

- user bros down BAD

- user - 10,000 aura for simping

Liked by ynramsay, peteramsay & 4,005,347 others.

marcguiu9 VAMOS !!! tres puntos están en casa !!

View all 3,985 comments.

user bro has the inlaws in his likes

- user and they claim theyre "friends" ... if my "friends" dad was liking my posts id assume were married with seven kids and a dog

ynramsay marcaría un hattrick 🤓☝🏼

- marcguiu9 me gustaría verte intentarlo

user were winning the ucl !! (im going insane)

- user were so back !! (we are not making it past the group stage)

user la masia boys have some kind of fine gene in them its crazy

ynramsay formula is still better sorry bro

- marcguiu9 you trippin dawg 😹😹😹

- user just get married lord...

- user theyre literally built for eachother i swear

Liked by hctorforrt_, marcguiu9 & 11,258,997 others.

ynramsay meanwhile in my head

View all 8,547 comments.

user mother is mothering

user the prettiest

user an angel sent from heaven, deadass.

marcguiu9 ¿eres un rayo? proque eres mcqueen. (are you lighnting? because you're mcqueen)

- nateramsay WEAAAAAK. next

- marcguiu9 can you be the sally to my mcqueen??

- nateramsay better.. u got my approval

- peteramsay not mine !!!

user 11 million likes on ts post jesus marc u got some competition

user the finest girl in the world

user girlie got the whole barca roster in her likes

Liked by hctorforrt_, marcguiu9 & 7,566,058 others.

ynramsay barca weekend things !!

View all 9,568 comments.

user mother is mothering

user wifey, are you cheating on me?

user IS THAT MARCS HAND ???????

user guys that's me please respect our privacy!!

user i think it's hector tbh..

- user nah thats so randon

- user they're clearly just friends

user wasnt expecting a heartbreak today

user im sorry but it looks like marc

- user a HAND looks like marc ???????

marcguiu9 vroom

- ynramsay vroom indeed

- user yall...

peteramsay aprobado 👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼

- marcguiu9 VAMOOOOOOOS

might be a series or whatever :3 just pls request something

[yanderederee]

Windbreaker Official Q&A !

Part1 › Part2 › Part3

(answer releases are slow, so I’ll post an update probably within a month or so?) -> Q&A hosted here

1. What would you spend 500 yen on?

Sakura: “I’d buy Saboten’s Curry Bread.”

Nirei: “I’d like to buy more notebooks!”

Sugishita: “Dunno.”

Kotoha: “A cup of delicious coffee.”

Suo: “I would donate it of course.”

Hiragi: “I just ran out of stomach medicine.”

2. If you were to travel in Japan, where would you like to go?

Sakura: “Well… a place worth taking a walk.”

Nirei: “We should all go to Okinawa, it looks like fun.”

Sugishita: “Dunno.”

Kotoha: “I want to see the snowy scenery of nature in Hokkaido.”

Suo: “I’d like to go to a tea plantation in Shizuoka and pick tea.”

Hiragi: “I want to try snowboarding, so probably a ski resort.”

3. What is your favorite seasoning?

Sakura: “Ketchup. Omurice with ketchup is the best.”

Nirei: “I like to eat rice cakes with sugary soy sauce!”

Sugishita: “Dunno.”

Kotoha: “Japanese-style soup stock. With that, I can make anything delicious.”

Suo: “I’d say soy sauce. It's sweet, isn't it?”

Hiragi: “It's delicious if you put miso on nigiri rice and bake it.”

4.) What do you think about before going to sleep?

Sakura: “Fighting.”

Nirei: “I think about everyone I was with that day.”

Sugishita: “Dunno.”

Kotoha: “Pothos's sales status.”

Suo: “The dragon sealed in the left eye is about to rampage, so I guess that's it, haha.”

Hiragi: “If I can’t sleep, I try not to think about it.”

5. What would you eat for your last meal?

Sakura: “What… Why is it the last one? I’ve never thought about it.”

Nirei: “High-class meat. I want to eat til I’m full!”

Sugishita: “Dunno.”

Kotoha: “I dont care what I eat, I just want to eat it with everyone at the facility and the teachers.”

Suo: “Hmm, I don’t need to eat anything.”

Hiragi: “If it’s my last meal, then that must mean I’m in a bad situation, right? That means my stomach hurts, and I wonder if I can eat it. If I can eat it, I might say Katsudon.”

6.) What happened recently that made you happy?

Sakura: “At the butcher's... I got a bonus when I bought croquettes…”

Nirei: “I was able to have small talk with Mr. Umemiya.”

Sugishita: “Dunno.”

Kotoha: “Customers really liked the new menu.”

Suo: * “I had two tea pillars stand recently.”

Hiragi: “I got a ticket for my favorite band.” (LETS GO TOGETHER PLEASE!!!)

* When pouring freshly brewed loose-leaf tea, you can sometimes expect to find a tea stem/pillar in your tea. It’s considered good luck if one of those pillars stand vertically.

7.) What would you do if a stranger of the opposite sex asked for your contact information?

Sakura: “What?! What are you going to do when you have it!?”

Nirei: “A-are you sure it’s mine you want!? Not Sakura, or Suo’s?!”

Sugishita: “eh… uh…. um…”

Kotoha: “Sorry~ I have a boyfriend.”

Suo: “I don’t have a phone, sorry.”

Hiragi: “O..Oh… is my number okay?” (YES PLEASE)

[wisteria-blooms]

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (12/15)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST AT BOTTOM! A/N: PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ADDING YOU TO THE TAGLIST. I tried my best given it's been 6 months since I updated it... Anyway, I hope this chapter makes up for my absence. I got a bit tired of looking this chapter over and over so I'm posting it and crossing my fingers (ehe).

CHAPTER 12: Going to 'invigilate' with Charlie proves to be more than you bargained for. He's intent on showing you that Care of Magical Creatures should've been your favourite class, that leather is better than silk, and that you sure can fit on the same bed - wait, what? (7.2k words)

CHAPTER 12: MISTER AND MISSUS (WEASLEY)

The late afternoon sun poured into the windows of Madame Malkin's shop, illuminating the curtains of fabric draping from the walls. Swathed in amber light, you were perched on a chair right by the window. Nervous. Anticipating. Waiting. You didn’t want to bother the master at work. The seamstress clicked her tongue when she found the right colour thread.

You had come to pick up your freshly laundered and ironed clothes, and one particular piece that needed a stitch repair. The snag never bothered you but now it felt like sandpaper on your skin. If you were going to say yes to Charlie, you wanted to have a proper wardrobe ready. 

Not that you were dying to go. It was just a possibility. 

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”

“Of course,” Madame Malkin responded. “Is there an occasion?”

“I’m acting as an invigilator.”

“Have you found a job as one?” she asked. You came here so often that Malkin could piece together some parts of your life. 

“I’m helping a… friend in an educational setting. I’d like to look the part.” You drew in a breath. “Would any of this be appropriate?”

Malkin took one look at you. When she spoke again, her voice was firm but warmly informative. ”For someone your age, I’d lean towards something long and flowy. Nothing that hugs the silhouette too tightly. That would be considered improper. Layer it with,”—she gestured towards the cardigan on your lap,— “an article like this. But what you have on is plenty appropriate. There’s no need to change anything.”

You smiled. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

With your clothing in stow, you walked back onto the shopping street. The polished exterior you put on in the shop slowly chipped away as reality sunk back in. You exhaled. The puff of condensation stuck, and you wanted to scream into it to dissipate it and the passersby on the street. Goddamit, you were so confused. 

Neither you, Charlotte, or Clara had gotten home properly the night of the Christmas fair. You’d all fallen asleep in the apartment from fatigue the moment you laid down. You, facedown on the middle couch with both your cousins curled up on the sectional. The horror of your mistake only dawned on you when you cracked an eye open only to be blinded by a rising sun. You threw off the blanket on your body and paced around the room, looking for a letter or howler or—

But there was nothing. You were shrouded in silence, the only exception being Charlotte and Clara’s light snoring.

Amazed, you slowly inched towards the hallway. Charlie’s door was ajar just the slightest. Against better judgement, you peered in. Through the sliver, you saw a mop of red hair on the pillow. Blankets covered most of Charlie’s body except for one bare leg that had managed to sneak out. When Charlie stirred and turned, you withdrew your head and planted your back against the wall. Had he caught you peeping in on him? After a few moments of silence, you deduced he was just tossing in his sleep. 

You tiptoed back to the living room. On the sofa, Clara’s chest rose and fell peacefully, and in turn, she made you feel at peace too. It was utterly weirdly and pleasantly domestic, just spending your Sunday morning at home with Charlie and two kids. Had domesticity always been something you’d yearned for, or something spurred on by Bill and Fleur’s baby and some oscillating feelings for Charlie? You let yourself fantasise for a bit; it was some mushy food for thought to soften your recent tantrums.

You returned to the manor in the afternoon. No one, not your father, Draco, Rosamund, or Abraxas asked you about where you’d been the previous night. Puzzled, you had lunch that afternoon and life went on like usual. You peered around the table as you stirred your soup, waiting for someone to bring last night up, but no one did. Not even when Charlotte and Clara spoke on and on about Charlie and the magical night you’d had. You resigned to stay at the manor until Aunt Rosamund left.  Charlie’s intentions were still unclear and you needed time alone to think about it. 

As you sat in the nook by the window of your old bedroom, a pain festered in your stomach. It’d been three days, and Charlie hadn’t tried to reach out to you. What was he doing? Or rather, what were you doing? What were you hoping to achieve by stalling? What if you just said yes to Charlie and went with him to Hogwarts? Would things go back to normal? You’d give a lot to return to that same level of intimacy and familiarity with Charlie. 

On Tuesday, you hovered by the main office at the Ministry. Your destination was the row of mailboxes. You’d written a request for the days Charlie asked of you but both fear and pride kept you from pushing the parchment into your boss’s mailbox. You shifted your weight from one side to the other. He’d probably think you desperate if you showed too much excitement. Then, you thought of Charlie surrounded by his friends, namely Mallory. The thought of them together made your cheeks burn with malice. If you were going to make a fool of yourself, you might as well make it a grand spectacle. 

Friday. 

You returned to the apartment after work and eagerly waited for Charlie to return home. You wanted to be there when you told him. But if he was going to make you any longer, your heart was going to explode in your chest. When you heard the lock turn, you jumped.

“I can go next week,” you said quickly. 

Charlie barely made it through the door before you barraged him. “To?”

How could he have forgotten already? “Hogwarts!”

Charlie’s lips parted in realisation. “Hogwarts.” He drawled. 

You nodded. “Yes.” Every second of silence that transpired ate away at your confidence. 

“Ah,” Charlie finally said with a sharp exhale. “You should’ve told me earlier, (Y/N).”

“Oh?”

“I made other arrangements,” Charlie said.

The taut muscles of your face went slack.

“I’m just kidding!” Charlie dropped his messenger bag down and ran over to you. In an unprecedented move, he picked you off the ground. You fell limp just as quick, turning into putty in his strong arms. You looked down at him, wisps of your hair skimming his cheek. Your waist burned where his hands held you. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he affirmed breathily in your ear. You shivered. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have joked like that. But I really am glad you’re coming.”

He was glad. Glad was equivalent to extremely elated as far as you were concerned. 

After a few moments, he set you back on the floor. Suddenly, you didn’t like the feel of your feet on the solid ground. 

“I’m going to make the proper arrangements, alright?” Charlie shot you a toothy smile before stepping back into his room. He ambled backwards, feet heavy on the floor, not turning away from you until you nodded. When you heard his door close, you turned towards the cupboards and punched the air in celebration. 

From an impressionable age, you often daydreamed of being on vacation with a lover. Better yet, a honeymoon with your husband. Just the two of you, sailing for hours, drowning in an ocean of renewed love, and resurfacing the next morning in each other’s arms in a different world. Though, all you could see was Genevieve sucking Max’s mouth off on a dreamy beach, and suddenly, you didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Well, now it was your turn, and this was the closest thing you were going to get.

You bundled your coat closer to you and tightened your scarf. It was hard to think about the beach when your reality was grey skies and a sharp chill that smacked your face relentlessly. The tights underneath your long satin skirt and your topcoat were doing their very best to keep you warm. To distract yourself, you observed Charlie, who looked rather handsome as he walked in front of you. A thin, tobacco-coloured sweater under a topcoat. Black trousers rolled up to reveal grey socks. The only thing the slightest bit scruffy about him were the boots he chose, but you reckoned they were mandatory for the job: handling creatures. A brief image appeared in your mind of Charlie in the fields, calloused hands gripping a leather saddle…

Alright, you were plenty warm now. 

Charlie led you to an empty compartment—“this one is my favourite”—and slung his bags and your suitcase on the racks above, then seated himself. You sat on the other side of him. The horn rang twice and the train station gently began rolling backwards out of view. Your fingers skimmed over the book in your purse you brought in case Charlie preferred to keep to himself. How awkward would it be if he chose to keep to himself for the entirety of the ride. Who knew what Charlie, in all his unpredictable glory, was going to do for a couple of hours?

“So,” Charlie started. The cloud-shielded light that flickered through the windows made his eyes look ethereal. “We’ll get there just after five, and we can go over the itinerary after dinner. The exam isn’t until Friday, so you’ll have some time to get accustomed.”

You shuffled back in your seat and smiled. “I spent seven years there. I do hope I’m accustomed already.”

“Seven years and only one with me,” Charlie corrected. “Sounds like a terrible time.”

“I found it satisfactory. I liked your brothers.”

You winced a little thinking about your fight with Fred and George that you haven’t patched up yet. 

“Hey.”

You looked up to find Charlie pouting. “Satisfactory enough,” you corrected. “Could’ve been better, you’re right. Is that an acceptable answer for you?”

With a grin, Charlie sunk back into his seat. He lifted his leg and planted his heels on the front base of your seat, trapping your legs in between his. In the process, he scarcely looked up at you. Slowly, you inched back and kicked your legs up on the base of his seat. 

“Are you playing games with me, (Y/N)?” Charlie asked. His tone was velvet, impossibly delicious.

Your eyes sparked in a way you didn’t think was possible.

“Perhaps, Charlie.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy losing.” 

Your eyes flashed to the door to ensure no one was listening in on this… intimate conversation. 

The corners of his lips tilted upwards even further. Charlie was going to send you into cardiac arrest sitting like that, with his legs spread and leaning backwards, taunting you about some 'games' you were going to play. Your imagination replaced the seat’s headrest with a headboard, his sweater with nothing, and the metallic walls of the train with the soft curtains of a four-poster. There it was again, the debauched image of you on your knees, face in between his legs, hands unravelling his belt and the zipper on his pants. And when you finally untangled the string of your present, you’d be rewarded with the tight slap of his cock to your cheek.

The thought of that added fuel to a kindling fire. “I could stand losing sometimes,” you said.

Charlie tilted his head back even further, his expression thick with amusement. “Huh.”

Above Charlie, his bag jostled and teetered until it was perilously close to the lip of the overhead compartment. You got up immediately, shattering the decadent moment, and pushed his bag back. At the same time, the train ran over a bump on the tracks. Now, it was your turn to be jostled backwards. Charlie caught you by placing a hand on the back of your thigh. The feeling of each finger indenting on your flesh, through the thin layer of your tights, registered first before your mind registered what was happening. 

Motionless, completely stuck, confused, and hot, you had no idea what to do. Truthfully, the heat from his hand was starting to trickle upwards to your most intimate parts. Lust clouded your own eyes for a moment, and you imagined bracing your knee on the edge of his seat and leaning in to kiss him. You’d force Charlie’s hand to glide onto the curve of your ass. Oh, the places he could go from there…

Two firm rasps on the door wrested you out of your fantasy. Charlie quickly removed his hand. The cart lady cleared her throat, having clearly walked into something unexpected.

“Anything from the trolley?” she asked politely. 

If only she knew how hungry you were. “Two coffees, please,” you said, running over to pay. 

The sky still maintained slivers of light when the train pulled in at Hogwarts Station. You and Charlie began to deboard, and the stretch of your limbs was very enjoyable. The rest of the ride had been quiet and tame. The book you brought did get read, though you weren’t absorbing much. Your mind was flush with thoughts about Charlie’s hand on your thigh. Without a word, Charlie retrieved your suitcase from the overhead compartment. 

“What did you pack in here? Rocks?” he asked as pretended to struggle with your belongings while transitioning from the train to the platform.

“Clothes,” you clarified. “I packed clothes.”

“Funny,” he said. “Mine all fit into a backpack, without any enchantments, for good measure. You know we’re only spending three days here, right?”

“I’m well aware, yes.”

“The wardrobes here aren’t made to fit what you have back home. If I remember correctly, I packed exactly two pairs of trousers and three shirts. You must’ve packed tenfold.”

You scrunched up your nose. “How do you know the state of my closet?” you pressed. By now, you’d been ushered off the train and were moseying on the cobbled roads. “Have you been nosing around when I’m not home?”

“It was on full display when I came in to ask you to come here with me. Stuffed to the brim with jumpers falling to the floor.”

“I was organising it,” you huffed into the cold air. “You came at a terrible time.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Charlie hummed. Before you could defend yourself, Charlie patted the small of your back and rested his hand there. “Now, let’s get a move on. I’m famished.”

So. Eat. Me. 

A rush of nostalgia overwhelmed you when you finally arrived at the entrance of the Great Hall. Everything looked the same as the last time you’d been here: the glow of the floating candles casting a golden hue on the brick walls, the ancient paintings, and the torrent of students that funnelled through the doors behind you. For a moment, you were a feet shorter and years younger with a prickly wave of excitement in your body because it was September again.

“Oh, Charlie, there are you. Wonderful. You’re just in time for dinner.”

Professor McGonagall’s robes swept the floor as she glided elegantly towards Charlie. It took her a moment to register you standing beside him. The world couldn’t fathom a more mismatched pair, you thought. Neither could Professor McGonagall, apparently, with the way her eyebrow cocked. 

“Well, hello, (Y/N). It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“It has. It’s good to see you again.”

“I wish I’d known that you’d have a visitor this time around, Charlie,” she clicked her tongue. “I don’t have another room to spare you. You are well aware this is the busiest time of the month.”

“We’ll just have to make do, won’t we, (Y/N)?” Charlie asked, nudging you with his elbow. You swore you saw him wink. 

You nodded trepidatiously.

“Very well,” McGonagall said. “Hagrid will take your belongings upstairs for you. Come settle in for dinner.”

Being confined to the same apartment was taxing enough. Now, you were to spend the night within metres of each other? If being rocked around on the train got you this hot and heavy, then you’d implode tonight. You continued to freak out silently behind Charlie. 

“Do you dine with the other professors or your students?” you asked through shallow breaths.

“The professors,” Charlie responded. “So let’s get to the front.”

As you strode the length of the Great Hall to the front podium, you couldn’t help but notice that every step you took attracted a turn of the head. Not of any boys, but girls. You dared look back at a group who’d been audibly whispering, but that didn’t stop them. You had to wonder if you’d gotten something on  your face, but you couldn’t have—you were constantly checking on the train. Confused, you reverted your attention to the table reserved at the front. 

“Is there a seat for me?” you questioned. You’d prefer not to be left floundering about. “You know, seeing as how Professor McGonagall didn’t seem to be expecting me.” What happened to the arrangements he was making?

“There’s always a seat for you, (Y/N). I promise.”

You found a spot with Charlie at the very edge of the long table which was favourable because it kept you out of sight from the little piranhas. The row was occupied by professors from school years past, someone acknowledging you with a smile and a tinge of confusion. You weren't offended; you knew you paled in comparison to Charlie’s accolades. All you were to be remembered by was your last name. 

“Charlie!” a gruff voice called from beside Charlie. Hagrid. With a sniffle, he droned on. “Didn’t think you’d make it, thought you were abandoning me.”

“I would never, Hagrid,” Charlie said. “In fact, I brought extra help for us.”

You almost laughed when you saw Hagrid’s head pop out from behind Charlie’s shoulder. 

“Oh!” he said, making sense of your face. “That’s the missus, isn’t she?”

You looked at Hagrid curiously. “I’m (Y/N) Malfoy,” you corrected.

“Oh, yeah, missus… missus Malfoy, my bad,” Hagrid muttered, clearing his throat that was thick with embarrassment. “Must’ve gotten myself confused… you can blame Charlie here, mentioned he’d moved in with a woman a couple weeks ago… funny, I was thinking that, since he started dressing better than I’d ever seen him… avoided my questions about it…”

Charlie just laughed. “You remember that? Nevermind, I take offence, Hagrid.” He adjusted the collars of his dress shirt. “I’ve always been rather sporting to those who really know me.”

“When did you say that?” you asked. “About you moving in with me?” Charlie’s smugness about his fashion was now the least of your priorities. You understood why you were the belle of the Great Hall. 

“In front of one of his classes,” Hagrid answered. “Never heard groans so loud. All the girls... none of 'em looked happy.”

“I’ve never had so many people look at my ring finger so much,” Charlie said, extending his left hand and looking at his knuckles. Then, he picked up his goblet and drank like he hadn’t just done catastrophic damage to your reputation.

You leaned in closer to Charlie who was in the midst of having a sip of water. “So your students think we’re married?” 

Charlie retracted his lips off the rim of the glass with a soft pop. Those damn moist lips. Heat reluctantly pooled in between your legs again. He leaned towards you, eyes low, and whispered, “Probably. My bad. I hope you can forgive me for this gaffe.”

“Charlie, you didn’t do anything to dispel those rumours?” you chatisted. Your words and heart did not align—how you wished…

“I couldn’t presume their imaginations would take them that far.” He pressed his lips together in thought. His blue eyes twinkled in realisation. “Well, I suppose it won’t support your cause when we’re walking to the same room together tonight.”

“Charlie!” you hissed, giving him a gentle slap on the shoulder. He fell over with a pained expression before chuckling.

“Don’t worry,” Hagrid assured, the insinuation gliding off of him entirely. “I’ll take you there.”

When dinner concluded, a new burst of nervous energy tickled your skin. You slipped out quietly with Hagrid and Charlie through a side door. Charlie was all up on you, asking if you were ashamed to be hypothetically married to him to which you just sighed, feigning annoyance. He had been persistent about this topic as if you’d struck a pretty deep chord. 

“It wouldn’t be that bad,” Charlie defended himself with enthusiasm. “I could be a good husband if I tried. I’m already quite the lover.”

You laughed. “Alright,” you conceded. “So, show me.”

Immediately, you regretted speaking your mind. Conversely, Charlie didn’t seem to mind. He sounded rejuvenated, almost excited. “You’re on.” He then sent a heart-stopping smirk your way before taking a couple long strides to catch up to Hagrid. 

You squinted at his back. What the hell did he mean by that?

The opposing tower of Hogwarts was quiet and tranquil. It housed mainly professors, ancillary staff, and visiting guests. The chatter of the students had long filtered out to the wind outside and the flickers of the burning torches. After Hagrid showed you to your room and handed you a spare set of keys, he left to retire for the night. 

“Go on,” urged Charlie, staring at the keyhole. “It’s your first time, not mine.”

You complied, turning the key and opening the door. When the door swung open fully, your eyes widened. 

“Wow,” you breathed. “It’s gorgeous.”

Your eyes wandered to the back of the room first. Red velvet curtains hung against the window, draping against the stone walls. A canopy bed with the same curtains stood a foot away, the end of it facing a roaring fireplace. It was similar to what you slept in back in your school days but was much more spacious. Two nightstands flanked both sides. The torches on the wall provided light ample for reading. A dresser and a long mirror were perched on the sides of the room at an angle. Right beside it, all the way at the end was a door that connected the room to the toilets.

You walked over to the sofa in front of you where your luggage had been placed. 

“Should we start unpacking?”

“I reckon, yeah,” Charlie agreed. “Don’t stuff up the closet too much, now.”

“Oh, you’ll be alright,” you said. 

Together, you unpacked your luggage and toiletries. As you neatly organized everything in your closet, you stared curiously at the bed and back to the couch. How would you decide on the sleeping arrangements?  

“Now that we’re situated,” Charlie said as he closed the dresser door. “Why don’t we do something fun? Something… naughty, perhaps?”

Every fibre of muscle in your body tensed as you turned slightly to face Charlie. The sparks from the fireplace behind him illuminated the edge of his freckled face. You backed up into the side of the bed, stumbled slightly, and calmly tried to stabilise yourself. The devious little smile Charlie sported remained in place as he closed in on you like a lion closing in on its prey. Your neck flushed under the collar of your cardigan. At this point, Charlie stood a mere two inches from you, close enough to touch. His hands travelled upwards to the collar of your blouse, his thumbs kneading the material and the back of his cold hand carressing your hot neck. 

You shut your eyes as Charlie’s hands pulled the fabric closer together. So, this is how you were going to go. And boy, were you ever ready for it. Your mind reeled back to when he kissed you in front of your parents and all the pleasure you felt from it. His big hands squeezing your waist, his rough lips on yours… 

Your daydream shattered when you heard the clasp of your cardigan tighten, metal scratching metal before the two ends hooked. Not undone, but done up. Confused, you opened your eyes. 

“Bundle up, (Y/N),” Charlie said with a delicious smile. He patted your shoulder. “It’s about to get cold outside.”

What was that that Madame Millicent said about edging? You'd be sure to tell her about it if you saw her again.

“Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see.”

You were doing your best to follow behind Charlie’s speedy footsteps. The rhythmic echoing of his shoes on the stone ground reverberated in the empty halls. This all felt so wrong, like you were one wrong turn from being busted by Filch. But you were with Charlie, who was a walking, breathing get-out-Azkaban card and overarchingly, you weren’t students anymore. 

When you’d calmed down, Charlie stopped in front on a steep, spiralling staircase. His eyes skimmed from your eyes down to your choice of footwear and he clicked his tongue.

“You might trip, so I’ll carry you up.” He patted his thighs and waited. “Want a ride or not?”

Your lips parted at the visual: Charlie, naked, his skin glowing under the hazy moonlight, lips parted, motioning for you to get on top of him.

Well, fuck.

You hopped onto Charlie’s back, finding it worthless to fight him. Your arms enveloped him and you rested your head gently on his shoulder. He felt so sturdy and strong. Strike that, strong was the wrong word—he was herculean. You were proven right; he was ascending the stairs faster with your weight than you would yourself. 

“I guess you really wanted to ride me, hm? Charlie’s voice, tainted with suggestion, resonated in his chest, tickling your bare fingertips.  

“It was a bit better than I anticipated, sure,” you responded, forcing yourself not to laugh as he rounded a corner. 

“My ego’s wounded.”

“Your ego’s as thick as these walls, Charlie. I couldn’t imagine making a dent.”

“I’m going to drop you, (Y/N).”

You giggled. “So be it!” 

When he held you steady, you egged him on. “Well?”

Charlie refused to follow up on his threat and instead, persisted until you reached the top floor. Instead of dropping you, he let you down gently, your feet landing feathery soft. Your head swiveled around the area Charlie had led you to: the astronomy tower. The sky, littered with stars upon a backdrop of muted swirls of green, spun around the arched windows. Bitter wind sifted through the openings, and you shifted a step left to block yourself from it. 

“What are we here for?” you asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Charlie admitted. “It’s just one of my favourite places to be when I need some peace and quiet. A way to unwind after a long day, if you will.”

“Those aren’t words I associate with you.”

Charlie chuckled. “I can’t fault you for saying that.” He directed you closer to the ledge where the telescope was planted. “Did you like astronomy at least?” he asked, tinkling with the height of the telescope. 

“Of course,” you responded. “I quite fancy the stars. They’re so lovely.”

“More than Care of Magical Creatures?” he jested. 

“Much, much, more.”

“Must run in your family.”

“How do you mean?” 

“Your mum’s side names their children after stars, don’t they?”

Startled, you interrogated Charlie. “What? How did you know that?”

“How did I know that?” Charlie asked himself. He gave a noncommittal shrug, his smile never wavering. “Guess I’m just that smart.”

“Next thing I know, you’ll be reciting my aunts’ names,” you joked. 

“I’ve got that covered, don’t you worry.”

“But seriously, how did you know that?”

“I have a pretty infallible memory for everything you say.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t remember telling you that.”

“Well, my brothers are quite the talkers,” Charlie shifted the blame. “Plus, it’s kind of obvious. Andromeda, Bellatrix. Should I keep going?”

“You’ve been stalking me, Charlie!” you accused hotly.

Charlie just shrugged his shoulders like your family history was common curriculum, something as easy to recite as to who the first ever Minister of Magic was or a spell like lumio. 

“So.” You decided to change the topic, choosing to proceed more delicately than driving Charlie into the ground. “Do you come here often?”

“Every week,” Charlie affirmed, leaning closer to the edge.

“What for? To freeze?”

“It wasn’t that bad in September,” Charlie corrected. “I just fancy looking up at the stars and thinking.”

“What do you think about?”

“About my life, how I got to where I am,” Charlie responded smoothly. A question like this, had it been directed to you, would’ve stopped you in your tracks. “And what I want to do in the future. So, I guess, the past, the present, and the future. It’s sometimes unnerving knowing the world’s so big and I’m just a small piece of it.”

“You’re not small.”

Assuredly and cockily, Charlie agreed: “I know that.”

You reddened, though the dark did a marvellous job concealing it. You clearly meant his stature and his presence but he might’ve been referring to something else—like, something in between his legs. You kept your head held upright instead of looking downwards. 

You wanted the conversation to last the whole night. Talking to Charlie without him cracking a joke was so rare. You had no doubt everything he was saying was genuine. “What do you see in your future?” you pressed. 

“Well,” Charlie started. “I see myself in Romania still, with the same job. The rest of it, I haven’t the foggiest.” He cocked his head towards you. “Where do you see yourself, (Y/N)? You must have some pretty big dreams in that pretty head of yours.”

You smiled at his compliment. “I’m content to be where I am as well.”

He pushed his palms against the concrete ledge and stretched his back. “With Bill being everything mum wanted and more, I’m off the hook for now,” Charlie remarked in a chipper tone. “I can breathe! She used to send me letter after letter pressing me to come back to England and,” Charlie laughed, “settle down, all that domestic stuff that Bill’s clearly a natural at.”

You giggled. “You can’t be tamed, can you?”

“Not exactly.”

Scissors cut through the flesh of the tender moment. He was nothing but honest tonight. So, this was when your heart lurched for the first time. Charlie was warning you that he couldn’t be tamed or held down by conventions like marriage or domesticity; he was here for a weekend, a winter, before running back to Romania. 

“Well, the stars are beautiful tonight, aren’t they?” you said, cocking your head upwards and swallowing the fleeting joy of this trip. 

“They are brilliant, yeah,” Charlie agreed. "But don't you think it'd be better with a dragon or two in the sky?"

You nodded. Your eyes gazed at him wistfully. If there was only a way to capture his devotion to this moment and make it forever.

“You’re in an awful rush to get back,” Charlie remarked as you ran down the hall, your eyes dating door to door for the correct number. 

“It was chilly up there, Charlie! I’m freezing!” 

When your little astronomy session had concluded, you realized just how cold your fingers and toes were.  You exhaled loudly when you entered the warm refuge of your bedroom. You ditched your scarf and topcoat, took off your boots, and toed over to the fireplace. You outstretched your stiff, cold hands and let the flames breathe on your skin. 

“Get used to it,” Charlie advised from the door, two steps behind you, still unbuttoning his topcoat. “We’ve got a full day outside tomorrow.”

You shuddered at the thought.

Charlie crouched down next to you by the fireplace. 

“If I could give you one piece of advice, I’d say you’re better off wearing something more substantial. A teeny sheer skirt won’t do you any favours in the fields.”

“Oh! Well,” you began to retort, a huff tailing your sentence. Words, words you thought you’d locked up in your head, slipped out of your mouth faster than you could stop them. “I must’ve misunderstood. I thought me wearing less excited you.”

“Huh.” But when his words coagulated in his throat, it meant that you’d caught him off-guard. You’d revel in the one second you embarrassed the infallible Charlie Weasley. “Normally, yes, but I prefer you warm and alive this weekend. So, heavy duty denim and leather are much sexier.”

“I thought we would be in the classroom,” you mumbled. “Where it’s toasty.”

“We will be on Friday. But you should get a feel of my course first, don’t you think?”

You deadpanned. “No.”

Charlie laughed, falling back against the velvet couch. “You’re hilarious, (Y/N), really.” He pressed his palm on your shoulder, the patch of skin he touched growing unbearably warm, before using it to lift himself off the carpeted floor. He got up and headed down the room towards the entrance to the bathroom. “Would you like me to draw you a bath, milady?”

You shook your head. “No, I can do that myself, thank you.”

“Alright,” Charlie conceded. “In that case, I’m going to take a quick shower and before you broil for an hour.”

“What?” you gasped, exasperated. “I don’t take that long, Charlie.”

Charlie shook his head with a grin before disappearing into the bathroom. 

“So, how are we doing this?”

Charlie stood steady, arms crossed, on the other side of the bed from you, his back against the door. His hair was clean but growing unrulier by the second, the dry air tempting each red ringlet back. His jaw was freshly shaven, and you were absolutely tantalized by him. His biceps bulged against his white t-shirt as he tightened his arms. Boyish, but so handsome. Your tongue stuck to the edge of your lips as you drank in him like a nightcap. 

“Hm.” He pondered, raising his hand to rub his chin. “I don’t mind taking this side.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widened. “I was going to take the couch.”

“You’d fall right off if you moved an inch,” Charlie said. 

You sighed. “Well, I had a suspicion that you’d end up kicking me off the bed in the middle of the night anyway.” 

Charlie’s eyes sized up the mattress. “The bed’s big enough for both of us.”

“I can’t imagine it is.”

“You could sleep horizontally and you wouldn’t be able to touch me.”

“Are you assuming I sleep horizontally?” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised, honestly.”

“You seem more the type.”

“Well, suit yourself.” 

Charlie lifted the covers and glided into bed. He fluffed up the pillows and sighed in pleasure as he sunk in. You mimicked the motion, but when you slipped in, your body teetered on the furthest edge possible. You kept your eyes trained on the ceiling. How were you to expect any sleep being next to Charlie?

“By the way, (Y/N)? Can I ask you a question?”

‘Yes, I’d love to have sex with you.’

“What is it?”

“What happened to that little number you usually have on?”

You turned your head to look at Charlie whose arms shot out from under the covers. His pointer fingers mimicked a line, tracing up and down. “You know, the strappy dress?”

You wiggled against the bed, hating the way your shorts felt against the bedsheet. You had to preserve the last shred of propriety in case you were stuck in the same room as Charlie, and it looked like that prophecy fulfilled itself. “I wasn’t wearing it for you.”

“Shame, you looked great in it.”

Your heart bloomed at the compliment.  “Maybe if you’re lucky, then tomorrow.” His laugh tickled your ears; he was that close. “Good night, Charlie.” 

The next morning, you stirred to the sound of running water. A shower. For a moment, you imagined you were back at Fred and George’s flat, but then the crushing realisation that you hadn’t spoken to them in weeks choked any bit of excitement in your body. Fred wouldn’t be there to wake you up in the most annoying and intrusive manner. George wouldn’t be hurrying you to get ready for breakfast. It took another moment to acclimatize to your surroundings. In a span of three months, you’d gone from looking up at the vast ceilings of your bedroom at the manor, to the condo, and now, the curved, mahogany ceilings of Hogwarts. 

“Hey,” Charlie greeted as he exited the bathroom, steam billowing in from behind him. When it cleared, it was evident he had just a singular towel wrapped around his waist. You jolted up immediately. 

“Good morning!” you responded, eyes cautiously wide at the sight of a half-naked Charlie. What a way to wake up. 

“(Y/N), hurry it up.” Charlie was walking over to the bed, causing you to inch back. “You’ve got twenty minutes before we have to be at breakfast.”

You shot up and looked at the alarm clock next to you. “Oh, you’re right.” The sheets tangled around your legs almost caused you to faceplant into the floor, but somehow, you freed yourself at the last minute, landing with a graceful limp. The moment both of your feet landed on carpet, you ran to bypass Charlie to the bathroom.

“Remember, (Y/N)!” His voice seeped through the heavy walls. He was way too chipper for a cold morning. “Heavy duty denim and leather!” 

Your mind combed through your closet: flush with satin skirts, sheer pantyhose, silk blouses, and cashmere sweaters. Materials meant to seduce Charlie, but it was looking more like the only thing you’d seduce was a sharp talon into the flesh. “I don’t have a leather jacket!” you called back.

“You can borrow one of mine!” Charlie assured.  

Breakfast proved beneficial for your stomach, spirits, and ego. With Charlie’s large jacket, once again, perched on your shoulders, you were certainly magnetic, eclipsing Fleur at the ball. The curious glances from all the girls as you strolled down the Great Hall washed off you like water on wax now.  In fact, as pitiful as it seemed, you revelled in their jealousy. You could live in a deluded world where Charlie was your dutiful husband. And if you shut your eyes and brain off hard enough, it was a world where you and Charlie were visiting your future children at Hogwarts. 

Okay, that was a step too far. There were many things to be done before you got there. Procreation, for one…

You opened your eyes to an icy glance from a teenage girl sitting with her feet up on the bench, her eyes grazing the outlines of Charlie’s jacket. You smiled politely back. 

After breakfast, Charlie led you outside, trekking through dirt paths and tall grass to the forest. There was a certain ardentness that radiated from him. Charlie’s smile fully reached his eyes, and you could appreciate every crinkle as you walked alongside him. You chalked it to him being back in his natural element. His passion was so handsome.  

In a perfectly sequestered area on the fields, fenced in with twine, Charlie started his tour of the ‘classroom’. 

“See, these guys aren’t so bad, are they?” Charlie was practically begging for your acceptance as he held a flobberworm in between his fingers. It jiggled midair. “These are harmless and easy to take care of.”

You dry heaved and waved your hand in the air. “Please get that out of my sight.”

“Oh, come on.” Charlie stepped over so he was in front of you. “If you can’t feed a flobberworm, how are you going to advance to the next level?”

“The next level?” You blanched. “I thought you were showing me around the classroom. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought I was invigilating.”

Charlie set the flobberworm, which immediately took to a piece of lettuce, back on the table. “Look, (Y/N), you can’t tame a dragon without learning to tame a flobberworm first.”

You laughed. “When did I ever say I wanted to tame a dragon? Charlie, this is exactly what a bait-and-switch is.”

“You didn’t?” Charlie asked, fake surprise settling in on his features. “I must’ve misheard, then. Well, you pass this level on effort alone. Let’s move onto the Bowtruckles, they’re just a tad more interesting.”

You stopped him in his hot pursuit of the forest. “Charlie, I’m fine, really. I’m not scared of Flobberworms or Bowtruckles.”

“Yeah?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Then what stopped you from pursuing excellence?”

You inhaled, the cold air burning your nose. You wanted nothing more than to be truthful with Charlie and have a conversation like you did on the top of the Astronomy Tower last night. But a more sensible part of you told you to be cautious; you couldn’t wedge you and Charlie apart even further, put your differences on display, and send him running to Mallory. You couldn’t be more polar opposite if you tried; he and Mallory were like mirror reflections. 

And after all, a part of you still pined heavily for him, so being truthful could be detrimental. 

“I just didn’t like the larger creatures. You know, the ones bigger than me.”

“Well, let’s work our way up.” Charlie clapped his hands together, a puff of air leaving his mouth as he did. “We’ve got all afternoon. Hagrid definitely has some Hippogriffs around here.”

You pouted. “Can we just get back inside?”

“What? Does Hippogriff aversion run in the family?”

Was he referring to Draco’s incident back in his fourth year? “How did you know—”

When you didn’t answer as quickly as he’d liked, Charlie took the liberty to sweep you up. He used your hips as a swivel and flipped you over over his shoulder with ease. You yelped as your face dipped below his shoulder bone. 

Helpless, you let him carry you like the spoils from a heist. “Alright, alright,” you conceded. “I am terribly excited for the next level.”

“That’s my girl!” Charlie commented.

 You didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling. 

Initially, you wanted nothing more than this lesson to be over. You hated the unpredictability of wild beasts. They could be loving and sweet for a moment then decide in a split second to chomp your hand off. But as you began heading back to the castle, you realized you were sorely mistaken. With great trepidation, you had conquered the Hippogriff that you swore was your mortal enemy ten years ago. It helped greatly that Charlie’s hands were either on your shoulders or your hips to steady you.

“Breathe,” he had whispered near your neck. His body was flush against yours. “You can do this.”

You nearly salivated at his words. 

It was beginning to get dark out. Charlie’s cheeks were stained pink from the cold. You were freezing, too, so you were more than ready to have a bath and sit by the fireplace in your room.

“Mr. Weasley,” a professor intercepted you at the entrance. “I’m glad you’re back. Someone’s been trying to ring you for the past hour. I’ve heard it’s of high urgency.”

Charlie seemed surprised. 

He thanked the passing staff member. “I should get that,” he said to you. “I’ll see at dinner, alright?”

Charlie strode down the length of the hall in a hurry. Eyebrows furrowed, you watched his figure retreat with an uneasy feeling in your chest. 

>> NEXT CHAPTER (COMING SOON)!

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what @earth-to-lottie @kissingyourgrl @sihtricswife @adalia-jaycee @anuttellaa @weasley-clan @morks-watermelon @nobodysbabydoll @annoyingbean630 @bathwater101 @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @unrulynique @sarah3245 @hoeforsirius @crusty-lil-gremlin @atomictyphoonkitten @linnygirl09 @adhxmoony @jjsblueberry @bluewillowchina1

[rassicas]

Marina's Dev Diaries: localization differences

yeah so I just read through all of Marina's Dev Diaries in Japanese while cross checking it to English localization, just to see how faithfully translated it is and.... GREAT NEWS there's like no significant changes! Like there's the expected minor moving things and wording it different to flow well in english of course, but in terms of overall meaning and characterization its very faithful. I'll cover some minor changes I found but like. again these are so minor it doesn't really matter.

4th Entry Localization: "Poor Pearl doesn't know what to do with a free moment anymore. I'm always catching her bouncing with anticipation."

JP: "Pearl is always bouncing from side to side whenever she has a free moment" This is a reference to Pearl's side hops she did in octo expansion to get hyped and charge her special...this was localized to her "warming up her vocal cords" for the sake of story and the english version just refuses to acknowledge the side hops thing which is. minor inkling biology tidbit at most but eh whatever

8th Entry localization: "I'll handle system management myself! And I think user guidance would be a great fit for Pearl."

imo in JP marina seems more certain and enthused about pearl being in charge of user guidance? I considered not adding this to this post it's barely noteworthy. pearlina crumbs ig

8th Entry Localization: "All that experience making training stages from my days as a tutor at that training program is about to pay off!" JP specifies that Marina tutored at a Takozones training program. What's really annoying is that Takozones are just called something like "Rival Octoling" or "Enemy Octoling" or just "Octoling" in english, but they're supposed to be a specific rank of elite female octoling soldiers. this is just a longtime issue with how muddied octarian classifications are between english and jp lol

12th Entry Localization: "Pearl is joining us too. She doesn't seem to get what it's all about, but she's usually down for whatever. Together, the two of us will make sure Eight gets through it safe!" JP: "Pearl is joining us too. With her being like "I don't really get it, but 'cuz it sounds like fun I'll go!", us two will keep Eight safe!"

This is a super minor change but it's cute getting a quote from pearl where she sounds actually hyped for it vs a "yeah ig shes down for it"

Acht's Letter 1 Localization: ""You should be diligent and dedicated, like a true Octarian!" I heard it so many times that it turned into white noise."

I just wanted to share a pun here that doesn't translate instead of "white noise" Acht says an equivalent idiom of "I got calluses on my ears (from hearing the same thing over and over)" The word for "callus" is homophonous with "octopus", tako. lol octopus jokes

[rekino2114]

How would the ddlc ladies react to their partner telling motioning them over, only to be kissed on the forehead and called a good girl?

The ddlc girls' reaction to being kissed and praised

M/n:thanks for requesting someth-

A/n:Monika....what are you doing in my author's note?

M/n:it's been ages since you wrote something about me, I just wanted to thank the anon for requesting

A/n:they didn't request you specifically you know?

M/n:I'm sure they did that to not make the other girls feel bad, I'm definitely their favorite

A/n:just get out this is already too long

M/n:No way, not only do you not write anything about me for so long, but you also forbid me from breaking the fourth wall? That's literally my thing

A/n:Fine, I guess you can stay here when I write ddlc stuff if the readers are fine with it

M/n:hehe, good boy

A/n:...........

M/n:what? It fit with the post

Monika

It's me ˆᵕˆ

What did I tell you?

Is confused at first but just giggles and accepts it

She quickly kisses you back, on the lips this time, and you just start making out passionately

She also praises you back for how well you kissed her

"Hm? What is it darling?"

Before Monika could say anything else, you kiss her on the forehead

"Good girl"

She stands there for a second before a teasing smile appears on her face, and she giggles

"Oh, I see. Well, since I'm such a good girl"

She hugs you closer to her and whispers in your ear seductively

"Then you be good too and give me a real kiss"

She kisses you passionately as you two fall on the bed and wrap your arms around each other while making out

Yuri

Yuri.exe stopped working.......genuinely you might have broken her

She was already blushing when you kissed her, and she went the reddest you had ever seen her when you praised her

When her brain fully processed what you just said and did, she just fainted from emotion

"Is something wrong y/n?"

Yuri blushed as you got close, and her cheeks got even hotter when she felt your lips on her forehead

"Good girl"

Her brain short circuited when she heard you say that, she mumbled an incoherent string of words struggling to come up with a response

"E-eh....w-ha d-did you- just......w-what w-why-"

When she finished, she fell on the bed with an even redder face

"A-are you ok yuri?"

Sayori

She blushes for a bit before thanking you and kissing you on the cheek as thanks

Meanwhile, in her mind, she's processing all that:it actually felt really good when you called her good girl, you helped her discover she might have a thing for being praised

After this, she'll try to do more stuff for you in hopes that she'll get praised for it. It's really adorable

"What's up babe?"

"Oh, nothing, just wanted to do this"

You kissed sayori's forehead and she blushed but still kept her beaming smile

"Good girl"

"E-eh?"

"Oh, sorry do you not like that?"

"N-no......actually I kinda liked it.....a lot"

Sayori started playing with her fingers and blushing more, you giggled and pat her head

"You're such a good girl, you know that?"

"T-thanks"

Natsuki

She kinda ignored you when you first motioned her over, but eventually went where you were

She blushed so much when you kissed her, and when you praised her, she might have considered slapping you

She'll try to act mad at you for giving her unprompted affection, but she easily caved when you hugged her and started to cuddle (she's just a grumpy cat fr)

"*sighs* what is it?"

"Finally!"

"If it was something important, you could have used your words"

"Well, you still came so"

You pressed your lips on her forehead and watched as her face became as pink as her hair

"I guess you're still a good girl"

"W-what did you just call me you idiot?"

"Good girl, is there a problem with that?"

"Y-yeah there is, don't call me like that again dummy"

"I dunno, I think you liked it~"

"S-SHUT UP!"

[marlair]

a thousand faces in a thousand places

synopsis: the housewardens with a Sparkle (from honkai: star rail) reader. (headcanons)

gn!reader + reader is not yuu

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

uhm! 😨 (scared)

there is not a single universe where this man, pre-overblot, did not hate you.

so, how did you two meet? considering your mysterious, yet still childish personality- you probably got sorted into heartslabyul!

you’re basically like alice but.. so. much. worse. 

pre-overblot he’d, most likely, be very cross with you.

do you know how many times you’ve been off-with-your-head-ed? because it’s happened a LOT. and i mean, a lot a lot.

you were in and out of everywhere, were rather cryptic, and had a strong mischievous streak.

how could he NOT be annoyed? smh.

though, post-overblot, i think he’d be more relaxed.

of course, he’d still be exasperated, but not to the level of annoyance he had before. progress, woop woop !!!

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

i am still scared. not for you, but for leona.

he’d be annoyed, i suppose. you’re like a creepy, more out there, more literally insane version of ruggie.

so, how did you two meet? it’s similar to how yuu and the lion met, actually. except.. there’s kind of a difference.

whereas yuu stepped on his tail (by accident!), causing leona to go “ooh i’m gonna eat you” like a shark on steroids, YOU were the one who.. tried to eat him.

picture this, leona sleeping on the botanical garden, you seeing his tail and immediately going

how romantic a meeting! be still, my heart! meetcute who?

you immediately started laughing hysterically when his startled awake gaze met your terribly amused eyes, so the impression you left to him.. eh.

you probably started a “Call Leona ‘Unca Weona’” trend on MagiTok (that cater undoubtedly joined in on), so he’s probably pretty annoyed at you.

— you’ve also probably used his money to fund some performances.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

“you have bewitched me body and soul. 🤩” “HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY HOUSE”

he’s probably mildly terrified of you and your absolutely horrendous schemes.

so, how did this lovely pair meet? WELL.

azul, doing paperwork in his office or whatever he does, looking like he sniffs lint, jolts when jade enters abruptly.

it’s unlike the eel’s usual respectful manner, so he’s pretty confused, immediately going “what is it?”

a sheepish jade smiles awkwardly and goes to say something like, “blah blah vanished into thin air before they could pay.”

azul is BEWILDERED. vanished??

so, obviously, righteously wanting his money, he tells jade and floyd to go look for you.

they did not find you.

fun.

KALIM AL-ASIM

he has a new bestie now!

you two are great friends, your chaotic (one more so than the other) tendencies and fun-loving personalities make you a great pair.

jamil would say otherwise.

you two go on happy little excursions around the campus, terrorizing a few people here and there, and honestly just having the time of your lives.

he was so glad you weren’t his friend just for his wealth, but because you liked his personality as he liked yours.

though, you, as someone who can only have their interest piqued by amusement, didn’t understand why he’d think you were using him.

you wear the most stupid matching shirts (that kalim bought and jamil tacitly approved) and walk around, happily playing and leaving only destruction in your wake.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

you’re fashionable, he likes you.

with your skill in acting, you’re probably in the film studies club, which is most likely how you two met.

he admires your.. cough, dedication. and he also thinks your personality is a bit (is it?👀).

“your dedication to being you is admirable.” “hehe thanks but wtf🥰”

as literally everyone is, kalim not included, he’s pretty exasperated by your chaos-causing tendencies and unhinged personality.

illusion magic is your jam, so just imagine how shocked he was when looking into his mirror and seeing your evilly-grinning visage instead of his own face.

(rook approves.)

talking about rook, a curious vil had asked the hunter to.. stalk you for a while, because he was confused if you were really the person you portrayed yourself as.

a laughing rook gave the report that you had found him out and asked if he was close to his housewarden because he stripped himself naked and apologized for his crime of liking neige.

vil is flabbergasted.

IDIA SHROUD

on one hand, he’s terrified, and on the other- he thinks you’re funny.

you come up with the most unhinged insults, and you always get the last word- he thinks you’re admirable.

your level of extrovertness is shocking to him.

first kalim, now you? he is Shaking His Head™.

how you first met doesn’t matter, what matters is what he accidentally said when first meeting you and having a good short chat.

“mesugaki..” he mumbled in the middle of your sentence.

your ears were good. his ears were working well enough to hear his own damn self.

he wants to cry. he wants to dig a hole in the ground and bury himself in it.

“hikikomori.” you immediately responded.

critical hit! idia will have to stay inside his room for three weeks, tell ortho he loves him..

you’d say you two get along well, idia would say otherwise.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

he enjoys your rambunctious personality. he’s normally chilling quietly in the corner, so having you drag him around probably does wonders for how people see him.

he approves (sebek does NOT).

he’s sometimes concerned. he knows humans don’t live long, will you Doing What You Do somehow make your lifespan even shorter? 

you’re just being you and he’s standing menacingly right beside you. imagine how that looks to other people.

your local terrorist gremlin and THE malleus draconia. standing next to eachother. chilling.

you probably call him “that guy with the horns”, or something more animal aligned.

like “ram horns boy”. 

lilia probably laughed at it, silver didn’t know if he should’ve felt offended for malleus or if it was a friendly joke, and sebek is going to use it as a horror story for the future generations of his family.

you’re just causing chaos and he’s there like 🧍😄

[guess-my-next-obsession]

endure & survive | ii. don't shoot

pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x single mother!reader

chapter content: MINORS DNI, written in dual POV/first person POV, no description/name given to reader, reader is a single mother, age gap (twenty-ish years), grief, gun talk/threats

word count: 3.9k

series masterlist | previous chapter

JOEL 

“Easy, now. Don’t shoot,” I say, raising my hands slowly with my palms facing the woman currently aiming the barrel of a shotgun at my face.  

“Fuck you,” she spits, tightening her grip on her gun. “Go or I’ll shoot your head right the fuck off.” 

“The hell you will!” Ellie’s voice sounds from the stranger’s other side, causing me to let out a low curse. When I chance a glance at her, she’s holding her pistol like I taught her, aiming it at the woman’s head.  

“Ellie—“ 

“Who the fuck is she? Your ward?” the stranger asks, her brows furrowing as she adjusts her position to be able to watch us both.  

“I’m the one aiming a gun at your head, dipshit,” Ellie returns.  

“Hey,” I hiss, snapping my hand at her while remaining as still as possible. “Language.” 

“She’s trying to shoot you,” Ellie replies, as if I’m the senseless one here. She’s still young enough to enjoy the thrill of a fight. Me, on the other hand, I’m just trying to get out of this without a gunshot wound.  

“Haven’t tried yet,” the stranger corrects. “Just threatened to.” 

“And I’d appreciate it if it stayed that way,” I say, focusing back on the woman a few yards away from me. “We’re just passin’ through. Didn’t know anybody was out here. That’s all.” 

“Then you can continue passing,” she says, jutting her chin towards the treeline behind us.  

“Alright,” I say, backing away slowly. “Ellie, c’mon.” 

“What the fuck, Joel?” Ellie groans. “She has a fucking fireplace.” 

“And a gun pointed right at me,” I remind. “We can find someplace else—“ 

“Mama,” a tiny voice interrupts me, and I watch as a kid half Ellie’s age steps out of the cabin and onto the porch.  

“Baby, get back inside,” the woman—the child’s mother—commands, softening her voice for him.  

I watch as she struggles to pick who to focus her attention on—her son, or Ellie and I. In the end, it’s her son that wins as she lowers her gun and guides the boy to hide behind her leg, his skinny hands clinging to her worn and weathered sweater. 

“Shit,” Ellie says, lowering her gun as she shoots me a glance before turning back to the woman. “I didn’t realize you had a kid. Just so you know, I wasn’t going to shoot unless you shot first.” 

The woman lets out what I think is meant to be a chuckle, but sounds more like a scoff. “You do realize you’re a kid, too?” 

“Eh,” is Ellie’s only response, along with a casual shrug of her shoulders.  

“Listen,” I butt in, slowly making my way over to Ellie. “Clearly, you know what it’s like to have a kid out here in all this mess. We ain’t lookin’ to make any trouble for you and yours, long as you don’t make any for us.” 

“I’m sensing there’s more to this speech than just stating the obvious,” she says, her free hand still firmly grasping the hilt of her shotgun.  

“We’ve been out here in the cold for weeks now,” I say. Calmly. Hesitantly. If I wasn’t feeling as bone tired as this, as desperate for just a bit of warmth, I would never even consider bunking up with two strangers, especially with Ellie in tow. But even though it might not look like it, I know my limits. I know that if we keep on out here in this weather, there’s a chance we won’t make it another twenty miles, let alone the hundreds between here and Salt Lake.  

“Absolutely not,” she says, shaking her head adamantly as she backs her and her son up a step towards her front door. “You two could be infected for all I know. As good of a person I’d like to think I am, there’s no way I’m letting you in here with my son.” 

“We’re not infected,” I say, though I know those words have been spoken by plenty who hadn’t meant them. Or hadn’t realized yet. But all I’ve got is my word and the hope that she’ll trust it. “I know I can’t prove it, but I’m askin’ you to trust that I’d never put a kid in harm's way.” 

“You allow yours to carry around a pistol,” she says, pointing towards Ellie. “You bring her to break into random cabins in the middle of the woods. Your word doesn’t mean shit to me.” 

I know a losing battle when I see one. I can sit here and beg all I want, but she’s never going to cave. I can’t say I’d do any different if I were in her position. Hell, I actually kind of respect her more for it.  

“Alright,” I concede, even though it hurts to. Just a night in a warm, dry place would’ve been enough for me to regain some of the energy and fight I desperately need out here. But I ain’t about to stand here and grovel, strip myself down and prove to her that there aren’t any bites marring my skin, just scars and proof of the hard life I’ve lived. Besides, if she got even one look at Ellie’s wrist, we’d both be dead. It’s better this way. Safer. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.  

“Dude,” Ellie scolds—or whines, rather. I shoot her a warning look that does little to wipe the outrage off her face.  

“C’mon,” I order, stepping backwards towards the tree line. I might not have a gun pointed at me right now, but no way in hell am I going to turn my back on that murderous looking woman. 

Not when I know exactly what I’d do if I were in her position. 

READER 

Empathy’s a fucking bitch sometimes.  

I don’t want to let these two strangers onto my property. I don’t want to risk the chance that they’ll endanger Colt and I. But fuck, it’s cold outside, and the storm clouds brewing above us prove it’s only going to get colder.  

If it had just been the guy, I would’ve had no issue telling him to fuck right off. I would’ve had no issue shooting him dead if he refused to do so. But that kid with him fucked my hard exterior all the way up—even if she doesn’t talk or act much like a kid at all. She can’t be older than thirteen or fourteen, just a few years older than I was when the virus spread and changed the world for good. I remember what it felt like to be that young, dealing with things no generation before me had ever dealt with. I remember how scared I was, how hopeless I felt. And that was in the relatively new and safe confinements of the QZ. I couldn’t imagine being out here in the open that young. And fuck, I can’t imagine how anxious her dad, or whatever the fuck the guy was to her, must be, having no shelter or safety to run to if shit was to go down out here.  

And so, humanity coming out on top, I open my mouth and seal my son and I’s fate. 

“Wait,” I call out, just as the two of them reach the tree line. The girl—Ellie, I think her name is—stops first, spinning around like she’d been expecting this all along. The guy is next to turn, giving me a skeptical quirk of his brow as if he expected hadn’t expected this at all. “Even if I wanted to let the two of you into the cabin, there’s no room.” 

I see the light die a bit more in both of their eyes. The man purses his lips before giving me a solitary nod. “Alright.” 

“But there’s a shed right over there,” I say, pointing behind me to the small, wooden building on the other side of the cabin. “It’s not much, but there’s a furnace and firewood. I can heat up some water and let the two of you use the bathroom inside the cabin to clean up. Maybe see if I can spare some food.” 

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Ellie beams, already making her way across the snow. The man she’s with looks hesitant to follow, but he looks more hesitant to let her carry on without him, and so he joins her.  

“Thank you,” he mutters as he passes the porch, locking eyes with me as if he’s just as suspicious over my good will as I am about him and the girl’s intentions. I only nod in response and pull Colt tighter to me. He’ll no doubt have a million and one questions about our guests, seeing as we’ve never had any before.  

In fact, these two are the only people he’s ever seen, aside from me. He never even got to see his own father, and now I’m bringing two strangers into his life.  

Strangers that could kill us. Strangers that could infect us.  

All because of my stupid, empathetic, hopeful heart that’s telling me that there’s something different about these two.  

Something safe.  

JOEL  

“This is...” Ellie trails off as she scans the shed that’s hardly large enough to fit a twin sized bed—if we had the luxury of having a twin sized bed, that is.  

“It’s better than bein’ out in the cold,” I say, not giving her a chance to shit on the small space. It’s a miracle that woman didn’t shoot us dead, let alone that she let us stay on her property.  

I move over to the old furnace in the corner of the space and squat to check it out. The thing looks ancient, even to my old eyes, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The older the appliance, the less likely it is to need things we don’t have access to, like gas or electricity. And this old beast looks like it runs strictly off of good old-fashioned burning logs.  

“Alright, you stay put,” I order with a grunt as I stand upright. “I’m goin’ t’grab some logs. Maybe see about some hot water.” 

“What the fuck do I do, then?” she asks, lifting her hands before letting them fall to her sides. “Just sit here and freeze?” 

“Could make yourself useful and clean the old ashes out of the furnace,” I say with a shrug as I shove open the rickety wooden door. “Or you can sit there. Either way, you’re stayin’ put.” 

She grumbles something that I don’t manage to catch as I walk back out into the cold, but what’s new. Always a smart-assed remark from her loaded up and ready to go. Her and Bill would’ve had a hell of a time going back and forth.  

As I trudge through the snow, I try not to think about my now deceased friend and instead fix my attention onto the pile of logs I remember seeing on the other side of the cabin. Only when I reach the porch do I hear the sound of two voices—one feminine and soft and one tiny and energetic—going back and forth.  

“So they’re going to be living with us?” the boy asks, and from where I’m standing just around the corner, I can see him following his mother back and forth from the river to the back porch of the cabin as she fills buckets up with ice-cold water from the creek behind the cabin.  

“Not permanently,” she says with a sigh. “Just until the storm passes.” 

“Can I go play with the girl, then? Until the storm passes?” 

“No, baby,” she says, and another, deeper sigh slips free as she prepares for the inevitable follow-up question kids his age always have ready to go. 

“Why?” he whines, stomping his boot to emphasize his point.  

“Because,” she says, stopping in place to look down at him. “We don’t know them. We don’t know if they’re safe.” 

“She didn’t look infected,” he says softly, looking down at his shoes with a frown. “I just wanted to play.” 

Suddenly, I’m hyper aware that I’ve been standing here eavesdropping on an intimate moment between the two of them. Clearing my throat, I continue on toward them—toward the logs that sit in a pile a few feet from them. Instinctively, the woman reaches for her son and pulls him close. I don’t blame her or take offense. She doesn’t know me. It’s the same reason I told Ellie to stay put. 

“Just grabbin’ some logs,” I say as a way of greeting.  

“I’m about to start heating up some water for you two,” she says, gesturing at the buckets that sit full on the back porch.  

“Thank you,” I reply as I scoop up a few logs and tuck them under my arm, ready to go my own way and leave the two of them be.  

“Wait—” Her voice stops me, and I turn to face her with furrowed brows. “What was your name?” 

Right. Hadn’t had time to do the whole introductions thing with guns pointed at each other.  

“Joel,” I say, before tilting my head towards the shed. “And her name’s Ellie.” 

She tells me her name and then her son’s, Colt. When I lock eyes with the boy, he gives me a friendly smile and a timid wave.  

Poor kid. Being sheltered like this hasn’t taught him a thing about being friendly to strangers.  

But he’s not my problem.  

Neither of them are. 

READER 

It’s an hour after exchanging names that I invite Ellie into the cabin to use the bathroom. There’s no running water out here, just buckets of water collected from the creek out back that I’ve boiled on the wood-burning stove. Whoever owned this cabin in the days of old made a wise choice at keeping all the appliances ancient and manual. It was one of the many reasons Kit and I settled here to begin with. That and the cold weather that keeps stragglers from venturing this far north during the autumn and winter months.  

Her guardian—Joel—has chosen to remain close by as she uses the bathroom, lingering on the porch in the cold rather than sit in the old shed. I get it. He doesn’t trust me, and even though I’d never harm that kid without a good reason to, it’s a smart move on his part.  

Trust is a fragile thing these days. It’s something I’ve only ever given to one person. Something I’ve only ever received from two.  

“You hungry?” I ask, stepping out onto the porch with a bowl of steaming stew in hand. It’s not anything to write home about in terms of flavor and quality of ingredients, but it’s hot and it’s enough to fill a stomach. These days, that’s about as much as anyone can ask for.  

Joel tilts his head towards me, his brows furrowed as his eyes drift from mine to the bowl in my hand. There’s flecks of snow laying gently on top of his brown and grey curls, at the tips of his eyelashes. Clearly, he doesn’t want to accept the food, but with him out here turning into Jack Frost, there’s no way I’m backing down. “Listen, you don’t have to eat it, but I’m going to leave it out here with you in case you change your mind. When Ellie comes out, there’s food waiting for her, too.” 

“You put anything in it?” he asks, hesitating before lifting his hand to take the bowl from mine.  

“Running low on poison these days,” I say dryly, earning another one of those unreadable, unamused looks of his. I can’t say my face tells any different of a story. “Look, believe me or not, I didn’t poison the damn food. Just trying to do the decent thing here.” 

He sets the bowl down beside him and turns to face me a bit more, his jaw ticking as he studies me like an opponent. “I appreciate all that you’re doin’, lettin’ us stay here and all, but let’s not get this twisted. We’ve both got people to protect. I’m not takin’ any chances with mine, and I trust you’re not takin’ any with yours. Let’s just agree to take care of our own and leave all this other shit out of it.” 

Okay, asshole.  

“It was a bowl of soup, not my fucking hand in marriage,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “But you don’t want decency, that’s fine. I’m still going to offer what I can to Ellie because she’s a kid and deserves to be shown some decency.” 

“She’s fine.“ 

“She’s capable of telling me to fuck off just like you have,” I counter as I lean down and scoop the bowl off the porch. “Hope that pride keeps you warm and full tonight. Dick.” 

JOEL 

I might’ve been a little harsh earlier, but something about the way she was looking at me set me off. It looked too much like pity, maybe even judgement. She probably thinks I’m some reckless, negligent guardian who can’t take care of a kid. To be fair, I might be. But I’ll be damned if I let this woman I don’t know judge me and treat me like some charity case when Ellie and I are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves.  

It’s just this fucking storm rolling in that had us out here seeking shelter. The minute this blizzard rolls through and skies clear up a bit, we’re gone. And the less of a debt we owe, the better.  

Though I turned my nose up at the hot stew I was offered—a decision my stomach is angry at me for—I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to take a warm bath. Even if it was creek water. Even if the water only made it up to my hips. Warmth is warmth, and my aching bones have needed it more than I realized.  

Dragging a wash cloth over my arms, I marvel at the amount of dirt and grime I’ve been wearing for however long it’s been. Twenty years ago, I’d be disgusted. These days, I’m surprised it’s not worse. Even in the QZ, people just got used to being dirty all the damn time. You washed the important bits—the bits you planned on giving others access to—but the rest often went neglected. After all, what’s the sense in scrubbing yourself clean every day when you’re just going to get caked in blood and sweat and mud and ash the next day?  

I was surprised to see that our host had a decent stockpile of bar soaps underneath the sink. The smuggler I used to be would’ve swiped a good chunk of it for myself, but those days are long in the past now. Besides, she’s got that kid of hers to worry about keeping clean. No sense in letting all that soap go to waste on a man who doesn’t even have access to clean water most of the time.  

Using the already used bar that sits on the ledge, I lather my body up and take in the scent of Irish Spring—something clean and artificial and nostalgic all at the same time. It makes me feel a bit more human. A bit less like an animal trained for survival.  

Surviving is all I’ve done, even when it was the last thing I meant to do.  

I find myself wondering about Tommy, about his survival. I wonder if he’s somewhere with Irish Spring and warm meals or if he’s gotten himself into trouble. I wonder if he’s even alive.  

God, I hope he is.  

A knock at the door startles me out of my thoughts.  

“Dude, did you pass out in there? The kid needs to use the bathroom!” Ellie shouts, clearly disobeying my command to head back to the shed and wait for me. I sigh, using the last bit of water in the bucket to rinse myself off before pulling the plug out of the drain.  

It only take me a minute to dry off and get dressed into the spare set of clothes I have tucked into my pack. They’re not much cleaner, but it’s better than what I’ve been wearing for weeks now. Eventually, I’ll have to break down and wash them in some creek when the weather gets warmer, but we’re a long ways away from that.  

“Sorry,” I mutter as I step out of the bathroom, finding Ellie sitting on an old armchair in the tiny living room that doubles as the bedroom. In the corner, on an old queen mattress, sits our host and her son, but only Colt looks my way.  

“Have a nice bath?” he asks, friendly and surprisingly well articulated for his age.  

I grunt in response before turning to Ellie. “I told you to wait in the shed.” 

“I was offered food,” she says, feigning manners I know she doesn’t possess. “It would be rude to turn it down.” 

“You’d think,” our host mutters under her breath, just loud enough for my shitting hearing to catch it.  

“C’mon,” I say, snapping my fingers at Ellie.  

“Thank you for the bath and the food,” Ellie says, earning a polite nod and a small smile from our host. “Colt, it was nice talking dinosaurs with you.” 

“You too,” he says with a giggle, kicking his feet off the edge of the bed. “Bye Ellie. Bye Joel.” 

Once again, I don’t reply.  

“You could be a little nicer,” Ellie says, rolling her eyes as we walk through the snow to the shed. “She told me how you turned her food down. Big mistake, by the way. Shit was gooooood.” 

“Got food of my own,” I grumble.  

“Ah, yes. Cold, canned beans. So much better than hot stew.”  

“I’ll be fine,” I say, and it’s true. I’ve had less and worse to eat in the last twenty years.  

“Just saying,” she says as we nestle ourselves into the small shed. I’m quick to get the furnace reignited, my hair too wet to be out in this cold for much longer. “She’s nice, Colt’s cool. Maybe you play your cards right and you’ll have a girlfriend and a stepson to come back to after we’re done in Salt Lake.” 

“Very funny.” 

“Seriously! She’s hot in like a mom sort of way. Why not?” 

“I’m good,” I say, shaking my head as I sit down against the wall and bask in the warmth of the fire. “Not on the market.” 

“But if you were—“ 

“She’d still be twenty some odd years younger than me.” 

“Boring,” Ellie yawns, curling up on the floor with her backpack as a pillow. “Whatever. Just trying to set your depressed ass up for some happiness.”  

“Can you act like a normal kid for one second?” I ask, my voice groggy with sleep. “Set yourself up for some sleep.” 

“Fuck you,” she mumbles, already halfway gone.  

“Yeah, goodnight to you too, kid.” 

[acewritesfics]

Hopelessly In Love | Tommy Shelby

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No

Fic Type: Imagine

Warnings: Sarcasm, teasing, two idiots in love.

Word Count: 1,821

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

“I need you," Y/N hears from behind her and turns around to see her best friend standing there, looking exasperated. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N. I sincerely hope your day is going well,” she begins sarcastically as she finishes hanging her mother's latest shipment of dresses on the racks.

Y/N works in her mother's boutique. A boutique in Small Heath sounded ridiculous considering the surroundings but her mother had opened the store, claiming that women needed a nice place to shop among the smoke and grime. “Well Thomas, it’s going so well that I’m sure nothing will bother me for the rest of the day, even when my best friend storms in like some neanderthal claiming he needs me like it’s a matter of life or death.” 

Tommy stood there, his hands in his pocket, looking at her unimpressed, his brows creased into a frown. A smug smirk stretches across her face. 

“What can I do you for, Tommy?” She asks, moving back behind the counter. 

“I need you to go to the races with me,” he tells her removing his hands from his pockets and stepping closer to the counter.  

“What? Has Hell frozen over or is it finally the day women have stopped throwing themselves at Thomas Shelby’s feet?” She teases her childhood friend. “Oh, Tommy, it must be hard,” she says pouting, giving her him a look of false sympathy.  

“Shut it, you,” he glares at her, elbows resting on the counter as he leans forward. “I’m being serious.” 

“Why do you want to take me to the races?” She questions him. They hadn’t been to the races together since before the war. It was sort of their tradition, one that was so easily forgotten when the war was over, and Tommy had thrown himself into making a better name for the Shelby’s. Instead of making the name better, he also made it fearful. “Why don’t you take that pretty barmaid you seem so smitten with. Or Lizzy, who’s more than eager to have a proper date with you.” 

“Why should I take them when I can take you, eh?” he asks, watching her as she busies herself with the clutter on the counter. She looks unsure but Tommy can tell that she’s thinking hard about it. “What are you afraid of?” 

“That you’ll forget all about the barmaid and fall hopelessly in love with me again,” she quips with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just like when we were kids. You could never resist my charm and we don't want to break the barmaid's poor treacherous heart.” 

Y/N couldn't deny that she did like Grace, the barmaid Harry had hired, at first. She seemed lovely and got along quite well with her until she realized Grace was asking her a lot of questions about Tommy. At first, she thought the blonde woman fancied her best friend and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Grace wasn't the first woman to end up with a crush on the blue-eyed devil. Tommy wasn't hard to fall in love with. But when she started asking her about the Shelby family business and the Peaky Blinders, she became suspicious that Grace's interest in Tommy wasn't as genuine as she made it out to be. And then there was the time she caught Grace eavesdropping and snooping around. She began to put two and two together. 

An Irish inspector and a pretty Irish woman, step foot in Small Heath at the same time. The barmaid, who's never actually worked in a pub before now, conveniently gets herself a job at the Garrison, the pub the Shelby Brothers frequent often and just so happens to set her eyes on the leader of the Peaky Blinders.  

She'd tried to talk to Tommy about it, but the stubborn man wouldn't hear any of it so she went to Polly who had also done the math. For a man who claimed to be smart, he became the stupidest idiot she's ever met when it comes to a pretty face. 

“I knew that love tea would have consequences,” he smiles thinking of the times they sat with his mother while she did what she called magic. He purposefully ignores her comment about Grace. He didn't want to talk or think about her right now. His sole focus is on convincing Y/N to go to the races with him, like old times and how he'd promised her all those years ago. “Maybe it’s why I never stopped being hopelessly in love with you.” 

"Don't tell Grace that," she says looking back at him before moving on to inspect the next dress, a pretty deep forest green with black beading and a black lace hem. 

"Fuck Grace," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "This is about us." 

"There is no us, Tommy," she sighs and moves on to the red dress that's not as pretty as the green.  

"Just come to the races with me," he begins. "I haven't taken you in a while. Let me take you again." 

"Do I have a choice?"  

He shakes his head, "No." 

She looks at him, her brows creased into a frown showing her frustration.  

"Wear the green one," he adds, dropping £7 onto the counter.  

"It's only worth £5," she informs him, knowing there is no point in arguing with him. Once Tommy was set on something, there was no stopping him. 

"Buy something to go with it," he suggests. "Maybe some new shoes," he adds as he takes the dress off the mannequin and hands it to her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek before he starts making his way out of the store. "I'll pick you up at 8:30 tomorrow morning." 

"I despise you, Thomas Shelby," she calls after him. 

"And I love you, Y/N L/N" he says when he reaches the door and turns to look at her once more. "Hopelessly love you." 

Her smile goes from ear to ear this time as she watches him leave, with a slight shake of her head. She turns to go back to the counter to wrap the dress up and startles when she sees her mother standing there, a knowing smirk on her lips.  

"It's about time that boy made his move," her mother says, taking the dress from her and folds it neatly on the paper they use to wrap the clothing in. "Better late than never, I guess." 

"It's not like that, Mum," she says picking up the £7 Tommy left and placing it inside the till.  

"Of course, it is," her mum argues, walking towards where the shoes are and picks out a pair of black t-strap heels, to match the beading on the dress and brings them over to the counter. "Thomas Shelby has been in love with you since you were both five years old and you've been in love with him for just as long," she adds placing the shoebox on the counter next to the dress. "Don't waste any more time, Darling." 

"I do love him," she admits. "Some days I wonder why." 

"And you'll have plenty more of those days," her mum chuckles. "Now get out of here and go rest up for tomorrow."  

"I love you, mum," she says hugging the woman who gave her life.  

"I love you too, sweetheart." 

"I must admit, I did miss this," Y/N says, sitting across the table from Tommy as they sat in the VIP area of the racecourse, in the forest green with black beading dress he paid for and heels her mother picked out. 

After a successful day at the races, they made their way up to the VIP lounge where they got a drink, a meal and did some dancing. Tommy was unable to keep his eyes off her from the moment he saw her standing on the curb waiting for him to pick her up. It made driving a little difficult since he tried his hardest to concentrate on the road and not the beautiful woman sitting next him. And then when they got to the races, he glared down, silently threatening the men who dared to let their eyes linger on her.  

"Do you remember the first time we snuck in here?" he asks her, a soft smile on his lips. Leaning back, he watches her as she thinks back to it.  

They were 16 at the time and she had come along with him, his brothers and his father. He'd been to the races plenty of times before, but she'd never been until that day. They both got dressed in their finest clothes back then, which were nowhere near the standard of clothing they were in today. Tommy had tried to talk his way into the VIP section, using that silver tongue of his that he had been born with. Unfortunately, it didn't work, and they had found a space in the back that they could use to sneak into the elegant area reserved for the wealthy.  

They'd spent 10 minutes in the area before they were escorted out and off the grounds of the racecourse and were made to wait there until his dad returned from being inside. That night Tommy had made her a promise. 

"I promise that one day, I will buy you the prettiest dress and we'll go back there, and they'll let us in. When they do, we'll spend the night dancing and when I take you home afterwards, I'll kiss you goodnight." 

She feels her heart skip a beat as she remembers word for word what he had promised her. As she got older, she had always played it off as a silly childish promise that held no real meaning.  

Tommy stood up from his chair and moved round the table, standing beside her as he held his hand out towards her. "Let's go home, Love." 

Y/N takes his hand and stands up, grabbing her clutch off the table and lets him lead her back to his vehicle.  

Once they arrive at the passenger's side, Tommy decides he can't wait until he drops her off home. Stopping her from getting into the car, he pulls her close, a hand on her waist and the other caresses her cheek. 

"Tommy," her voice comes out as a whisper as her heart jumps into her throat at the little space left between them.  

"I can't wait," he breathes, his voice soft as he plants his lips to hers in a soft and sweet kiss. Both their eyes flutter closed as a rush of warmth envelopes them as they pull each other as close as they can, deepening the kiss. 

Tommy is the one to end it when they start to become breathless. "I am hopelessly in love with you." 

"I know," she says, unable to hide her grin as she kisses him again. "I am hopelessly in love with you too, Thomas Shelby." 

TAGGED: @chapter-in-my-old-diary - @hanawrites404 - @goblinjnr - @halsteadbrasil - @rainydayteacups - @alexxavicry

To join my tag list, fill out this form: TAG LIST SIGN-UP

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Leader of the Pack 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: On a night out at the bar, you're promoted from wing woman to main star.

Characters: James Conrad, short!reader

Note: it’s hump dayyyy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"Go grab us a pool table," Martyna demands as she leans on the bar. 

"Oh, sure," you turn to search the bar. There's only one table and it's taken. You frown. "Someone's already on it." 

"So what? Go put a stack of quarters on it," she says, "I can't. I gotta get my drink." 

"Right, er," you teeter on your feet and look back at the table, one man lining up his shot as the other watches, his thick hands around his cue.  

The shooter snaps the stick and the clack of balls is sharp and strong. You near nervously, pulling out change as you keep just outside their perimeter as the second man considers his turn with a suck of his teeth. Where he's burly, with a shaggy dark beard, and faded ball cap, the other man has blonde hair and is lithe. They are both tall, though the slimmer man has at least an inch on the other. 

You step forward as the man aims from the other corner. You set down four quarters in a stack, just enough to feed the table for another round. The thicker man pauses as he pulls back the cue and narrows his eyes. 

"Eh, you're gonna mess me up," he barks. 

"Oh, sorry," you recoil and fold your hands over your chest, "I was only..." 

You quiet as he grumbles and shakes his head, eyes pinpointing on the felt. You shake your head and back up as the other man tisks. 

"Syverson, don't have to be so rude, the lady is merely claiming her turn," the slender man intones, just a foot from you as he twirls the cue, it's butt set to the floor. "Don't fret over my companion," he girds in his peculiar accent, "he's a sore loser." 

"Heh, what's that about..." the other man hits the cue ball and sends a striped one into the pocket, "losing?" 

You're quiet, nodding as you try to think of the proper response. No one's ever called you a lady. Most people don't notice you. It's why Martyna prefers you as her wing woman, you keep her company until she finds someone fun. 

"Rather, you set me up finely," the first man retorts. 

You cross your arms protectively and back up, making sure you're out of the broader man as he stalks around to place his next shot. His friend watches calmly, unbothered as he knocks another ball in, then lines up for the third. That one's a miss. 

"Shit," the man in the ball cap stands straight and sends you a look. You're not even close to the trim. 

"Oh, don't even try to blame her," the blond reprimands, "that's not very valiant, is it?" 

"Whatever," the other grumbles as he plants his feet and watches the other. 

The slimmer man puts his first shot easily in the corner, the next he sends two balls into opposite pockets, and the next sees him with only the eight ball left to sink. His opponent huffs and shakes his head. You rock back and forth, you hope he wins if only to clear the table. 

"Finally," Martyna nudges you as she comes up beside you, "they didn't have Corona, you believe that?" 

"Oh, that's crummy," you say, watching the mam measure his shot. 

"Mmph, I know you don't give a crap," she scoffs, "why didn't you grab a ginger ale?" 

"I'm fine, just had that iced coffee," you shrug. 

She hums again. She knows you don't drink, that this isn't your scene, that you're not exactly a social butterfly, so why does she act so disappointed. She invited you. It's always her idea, never yours. You just go along, otherwise you'd have nothing to do and no friends.  

"Kinda cute," she leans over to whisper, "look at his shoulders..." 

You lower your brow as your cheeks burn. You hadn't really thought of that. Then, you wonder, which one she's talking about. They both have nice shoulders and muscular arms. 

They're strangers! You shouldn't think of that. You uncross your arms and once more clasp your hands together. 

The man finally shoots, calling left pocket. He calls it true. The ball rolls in and his buddy sighs and swears. 

"Nice," Martyna pops her lips off her bottle of flavoured vodka, "our turn." 

She steps and grabs the quarters. The bearded man tilts his head at her and fixes his camouflage cap. His cheek dimples as the other man rounds the table and pats his shoulder, "better luck next time, chap." 

"Isn't luck," the burly one utters and rolls his eyes, "hustler..." 

"And yet you keep falling for it," the other snickers, "come on, I'll buy you a celebratory pint, eh?" The blond turns and strides toward you. "Miss, you're up." 

He offers the cue and your lashes flick. You couldn't see his eyes before. They're so blue. You gulp and accept the wooden stick. 

"Thank you," you squeak. 

Martyna chuckles and grabs the triangle frame from the slot and sets it out. The blond leads away his second, the man with the beard sending a glance at Martyna as she loads the quarters to release the balls. You wait for her to set up, standing back with the cue in hand. You can still feel the warmth of its previous holder's grip. 

Martyna swigs from her bottle and sets it back on the trim. She fluffs her black curls and makes a pouty face. She's not doing that for you. 

You glance behind her, those men are watching. The blond nods cordially and returns his attention to the bar. The beard one continues to leer in Martyna's direction. You spin back. 

"You wanna break?" You ask. 

"Sure, whatevs," she turns to the table. 

You wait patiently as she scatters the balls. She sinks two solids. She's always been better at this than you. You don't mind losing. It doesn't make much of a difference. 

She sinks two more before your turn comes. You regret not grabbing a soda as you mouth grows dry. Martyna is sure to loudly tell you about this guy she works with and how much he wants her. You just humour her with smiles and mhmms. It isn't you she wants to hear her. You know her tricks. 

You sink a stripe, then a solid. Back to Martyna. You aren't very good at the game. Your arm's are too short. Maybe if you could get on the table you'd have a chance but that's not proper. 

She narrows the solids down to two plus the eight ball. You try your hand again. Scratch. But she misses her shot and you get another go. You sink two before you're done. Still, you're behind. 

She empties her bottle, a dramatic gulp that extends her whole body. She outshines you in all aspects; her hair, her looks, her height, her clothes... 

She wiggles her but as she bends to clean up. One ball, then two, then she lines up for the final blow. The eight. She calls the corner. She bounces it easily into the pocket and squees and hops, her shirt doing little to contain her amped up excitement. 

You lean the cue against your arm and give a clap, "good job, Mart," you say. Genuinely. It was fun enough.  

"Aw, you did good," she preens, "how about a rematch? Got any more change?" 

"Ahem," a voice interrupts as you grab your purse. The jangle of change comes from behind you and a shadow steps forward, "perhaps you might want to make it interesting? Fancy a round of pairs?" 

You glance over at the man with blond hair and lilted accent. Well, you look at his sleeve and follow it up. His profile is well-forged. If you had a type, he might be it. You never considered many men, they never considered you either. 

"Pairs?" Martyna toys with proposal coyly and eyes the bearded man as he comes up beside his friend, "I guess it makes sense. But girls vs boys?" 

"No fun," the blond agrees, "we might mix it up, eh?" He grins, "James," he touches his chest, "this is--" 

"Sy," the other man, who you called Syverson, speaks up, "ladies." 

"Martyna," your friend rolls out. 

You offer your name in a pitchy stammer. You already feel like the odd one out. The tension is thick enough to choke you. 

"Sy, fetch us some cues," James demands, "I'll claim a partner," he looks over at you, "do you mind?" 

"Oh, er, yeah, but um, I'm not very good," you say, certain he must have been able to see as much from across the room. 

"I'm certain we'll work fabulously together," he assures. 

"Here," Sy returns with two sticks, nearly jabbing the James with the spare.  

You cling to your cue and fidget. You have no idea what to do now. Someone has to begin. 

"I'll break," Sy insists. 

"Of course, loser's first," James quips. 

He gets an arch of the thick brow in return before Sy bends to aim between two fingers. You dig your nail into the wood of the cue in your hand. James sidles closer, crowding you as you catch a hint of something citrus. 

Sy bends and pulls back the cue. He hits the ball and sends it zooming fast enough to crack the triangle on the other end. The stripes and solids scatter, bouncing all around. James chuckles and leans towards you. 

“You’ll see he’s about strength, he doesn’t realise the significance of precision,” he intones, “I can show you. It isn’t about how hard you hit but the exact angle,” he tilts his hand to demonstrate as the balls still but non fall into the pockets. “Ladies first.” 

You don’t move right away. At first, you don’t get his meaning. You lift the cue and approach the table. You look around. It’s your choice; stripes or solids. Whatever you can get, as usual. 

That number four is hovering right at the side pocket. It’s an easy score. You’ll take it. 

You position yourself, overly aware of your audience. It feels like the whole bare is watching. You blow out your breath and set your sights. You pull back and snap forward. The cue ball wobbles in its path but hits true, knocking the four into the hole. 

It isn’t exactly precise. You stand straight and let out and oomph as your back meets an unexpected wall. James brings his arms up and puts his hands around yours. His proximity is suffocating. 

“You’ve got an easy in on the five,” he advises, guiding you to bend with him as he directs your stick. “Loose,” he wiggles your front hand and squeezes your back hand. “Keep it like this, not too high.” 

He holds you like that for a moment then draws back. He steps to the side and crosses his arms. You focus on the ball, your skin speckling with heat. His scent lingers, perhaps a touch of orange in his cologne. You keep your hold loose and grip tight the butt of the cue. You shoot and the white ball clacks off the red solid, sending it neatly into the corner. 

Martyna giggles and you look up. She’s not laughing at you. Sy is muttering something to her. You blink and stands straight, glancing over at James. You understand what this is but you’re the placeholder, the wing woman, you just keep the friend busy while she has her fun. You know how this ends. 

“You’ve got another go,” James says. 

You nod dumbly and face the table again. You search for your best hope and shift around to the other side. You nearly cross your eyes in your efforts to bounce the ball from one wall into the opposite pocket. You just miss. You cringe and back away. 

Your gaze meets James’ as you find him watching you still. Martyna moves to line up her shot, giggling over her shoulder as she does. As you edge away from her, that man’s eyes follow you. They’re so blue. So, intense. 

You look at the tip of the cue and tap your thumb to the side. You’re in your head. He’s not really staring. When you peek up again, he hasn’t looked away. Not even as you hear the balls hit. He winks and your chest pounds in disbelief.

This can’t be real. 

[leonw4nter]

trying to come up with something to write for leon and my mind conjured up this beauty... i remember someone from somewhere asking what job would leon do if he wasn't a cop + caught up in the raccoon city incident... and my first thought was him being an ASMRtist 😭 i discarded the idea though coz he would not be tapping on things near a microphone for a living... but boy do i think he'd look great doing that :3 walk with me now :3

so let's say pre-RE2 leon decides to do something on the side to pay for expenses and a friend (rebecca maybe) recommends doing youtube and he's like "eh..." coz number one: he's batshit at games and number two: he doesn't know how to edit and then she brings up asmr-- now this makes him think. he's watched asmr before: stuff to help him sleep, to help him focus while studying, or if he's sick and wants to listen to something soothing. he's got a mic lying around, an impulsive purchase when he was in that one phase of his life where he wanted to do lowkey thirst traps while playing a basic song on his guitar (he only knows how to play his favorite parts in songs). never got around to using it daily or post the thirst traps he made, he didn't like the way his voice sounded.

he considers the idea and tries it out. he makes an alternate google account to start his youtube channel on and makes a name (highly likely its something like [Insert adjectives synonymous to calm]ASMR. since he doesn't want people around campus or people who know him to recognize him online, he decided to film showing only his neck down. he does simple editing like cutting out parts then posts it with some title like "ASMR for guaranteed relaxation". after doing it for quite some time, he's got a following that's not too big but pretty impressive for him and he actually likes it. he gets the courage to show his channel to rebecca with the promise that she keeps it secret and she giggles because the comments are just

"raw, next question."

"he looks like he whimpers"

"i knew you'd check the comments like a good boy"

"you should join a band called 'being my husband'"

and she shows them to leon and he's just SHOCKED. like majority of his audience are women that are thirsting over him and are asking for WHIMPER AUDIOS 😭😭 [me]. he's flustered and flattered over it, surprised that the reception to this experimental little thing is positive then he posts a video celebrating some milestone like 1.5K subscribers and the comments are flooded with "OIL UP AT 2K" or "pls make a video where you call us good girl" and he's just floored with everyone's lack of decorum at his comments section but he's thankful that he's well-supported.

OH AND THE DAY HE DOES THOSE BODY TAPPING ASMR VIDS WILL BE WORLD-ENDING. like he opts to wear a t-shirt instead of his usual sweatshirts or hoodies and the comments are either about wanting to bite his bicep, gooning, or "i told my parents about us" OR "reject me so i can move on already". might even see an edit of him on YT shorts idk...

okie dokie that's it :D 👍i want asmrtist leon kennedy send tweet

pompompurin dividers by animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[cythiraeth]

cupid's chokehold! - i. e. the moment genshin men knew they've fallen for you

✧ ─ ⌑ pairing: gn!reader x al-haitham, cyno, xiao (separate)

✧ ─ ⌑ short summary: the exact moment (or process which lead to it) when genshin men knew that they are head over heels in love with you!

✧ ─ ⌑ about the work: lowercase, fluff, not proof-read, lighter (?) and more free form of the work this time!

✧ ─ ⌑ notes: ehe, long time no see! i'm back to life and posting, so to start i picked something that was easier to write and is slightly in a different form than my previous works, however, i hope you'll like it :> also, i'm still waiting for any work requests, so if you have any idea, feel free to messege me!!

✧ ─ ⌑ word count: 1.5 k in total

 al-haitham

seeing you in a pretty, elegant outfit, probably some kind of dress or suit, maybe showing your collarbones or it just being mesmerizing,  it's up to you how you imagine a perfect fit ;) he is just PHYSICALLY UNABLE to take his eyes off you! the usually calm and collected al-haitham forgets how to use the ability to speak for a brief second.

the moment you left the room in which you were getting ready as he was waiting outside, he almost gasped out loud

i mean literally, this man's brain stopped working for a second

you two were supposed to attend tighnari's birthday party, and while he didn't consider it a occasion to wear something elegant, you did the opposite 

that's why he was left so speechless. because he was caught by surprise! he thought you would wear your casual clothes just as he did…

but it happened, you wore one of your favorite outfits for special occasions, and he was flabbergasted 

of course it's not like your look was the only reason he has fallen for you! he was definitely considering it many times before this happened, but he was living in denial.

"no, i don't actually have feelings for them. they make me feel comfortable, i crave hearing their voice or laugh and i care about them a lot, but no, we're just friends" - probably al-haitham to himself at some point in his life.

but this time, he couldn't explain his feelings in any rational way known to man. you were so stunning that his eyes shined uncontrollably when he laid them on you. he was so busy studying your silhouette, your face and your hair that he didn't even hear your first question, which was:

"and? how do i look?" you asked, opening the door but still keeping your hands on the doorframe and leaning on it. you were slightly blushed because it was quite embarrassing to let him see you like this, but if you were to be honest, you were also a little bit excited to see his reaction

so when he didn't even answer you and remained indifferent on the outside, the slightly raised corners of your mouth drooped

you just weren't aware of what he's been experiencing on the inside…

because his heart started pounding a little bit faster and he was ashamed of it but on the other hand you looked gorgeous and he couldn't stop himself from thinking about what would he do if you were in relationship

(he had such a strong urge to kiss your hand like a gentleman for some reason)

"what? do i really look that bad?" you asked after you have swallowed the bitterness of your first impression

"sorry?" he said, blinking, your words drawing him out of his reverie, "did you say something?" 

you snorted, annoyed by his behavior, assuming that he probably couldn't care less about your look at the moment, but at least he should try to pretend he does 

but oh, how wrong you were…

when you repeated the question he only murmured something under his breath in response, so you decided to let him be

you noticed he got sweaty all of sudden, it was probably too hot for him inside, you thought, so you took the last things and you two left the house.

in reality, he wasn't feeling hot because of the temperature of course, but he was just as surprised by his own actions as you were. surprised in a slightly different way though….

cyno

talking with tighnari... he found all his confidence to talk to him about his possible feelings for you, that he could not recognize and tighnari was left speechless because of how innocent and lost in his feeling cyno looked

he was probably hanging out with tighnari someday, maybe they went out for a dinner, and somehow the topic of conversation has come down to you

for a long time he was hesitant to talk about his feeling towards you out loud but today he decided he'd try discussing it with his friend

because if not tighnari then who would be a suitable person? surely not you 

also, don't think that he was aware of what he's feeling. HAHA, no. he would never 

"what in your opinion y/n thinks of me…?" was his first question. he tried to choose the words carefully and say it in his normal tone but even a small sign of arousal in his voice was enough for tighnari to notice that something is up

"and why are you asking?" he wanted to make sure that his interpretation is right

"no reason in particular," his answer was quick, those words escaped his lips uncontrollably, so he had to add something "i just consider them a close friend and i want to know if they do too."

tignari almost started laughing out loud, but he controlled himself.

close friend? oh man, he is so clueless…

"are you sure that they are a "close friend?"" he was actually having some fun but at the same time he just wanted to smack himself on the forehead, he couldn't decide 

"well, definitely not a "distant friend"" 

that's it, that's the moment when tighnari smacked his forehead 

"i'll pretend i didn't hear that," he tried to be serious, but it wasn't easy. "listen, you look at them like they are your entire world. that's the kind of look people give to their lovers, not close friends!" he finally said it out loud

cyno had to blink twice to process what was just said.

he. in love. with you? 

maybe? i mean, he always cared about your opinion about his jokes the most and he wanted to spend as much time as possible with you… but he thought that it's normal for friends to feel this way. and to steal glances at you person when you aren't looking, and to read every book you recommend him…

"you say so?" he finally asked, resting his chin on his hands "then maybe you're right," he admitted out loud

"FINALLY" tighnari couldn't hold it any longer… he was SO relieved that his friend won't be acting like he is running around in the fog anymore… right?

"and why are you so emotional about it?" cyno was genuinely confused (pls help this man he is often so clueless)

"because by now even collei knew"

xiao

 when you kept coming back after all of his attempts to push you away. he wanted to protect you, protect you from him, because for a human it would be better to stay away from his karmic debt, right? but when you remained determined to get closer to him no matter how many times he tried to disencourage you, he slowly realized that maybe, just maybe he can let you get closer to his heart than he ever let anyone to be.

in his case, there wasn't any particular situation that made him realize his feelings, it was rather a complex and long process (not really a chokehold then but shh…)

he knew you for several months despite of his numerous attempts of cutting any ties he had with you

it was just that… you were stubborn. but not in a regular way, no. your stubbornness was much less invasive and annoying, and it manifested in your constant willingness to get closer to him

however, you never imposed yourself nor did you try convincing him! you were just visiting wangshu inn regularly, maybe tried striking up a conversation a few times, even just sitting in silence was enough for you

and because of all those actions he never felt overwhelmed by your presence! actually, after some time, he just got used to it and secretly started liking it

however, there was always this silent voice in the back of his head that he shouldn't be doing this and that he's forgetting himself

so definitely, when he slowly started thinking of you in that way at the very beginning he was IN SUCH A BIG DENIAL that it's almost unbelievable 

alright, he admitted it to himself, but swore to N E V E R talk to anyone about it, especially and above all, to you.

he just decided to act as if those feelings didn't exist, that's all. and it went like that for quite a long time unfortunately… (at least you can be sure that he keeps his promises at all costs!!)

and after some time, when he was surprised that they didn't just go away, a certain thought crossed his mind…

he started thinking about what ifs and imagining what could happen if he theoretically decided to tell you about his feelings 

(he spent another few months on that though)

at some point he just couldn't look at you without seeing you both holding hands in his mind or stand next to you without the urge to put his hand on your shoulder (of course only in private, he would never do pda…)

but still, his karmic debt… 

he was so torn between those two thoughts (there were two wolves inside of him)

but as you expect, after months of his internal struggling, and your consistency in getting closer to him and encouraging him to open up, he let his feelings win for once in his long life

(take good care of him because he deserves it)

⌞⌑ cythiraeth - 23.11.2023. please, do not copy, claim as yours or share outside tumblr! ⌑⌝