#I will. remain calm. I will not bite people at christmas.

[bramblebeau]

mothers and christmas, name a more toxic duo

[katerinasas]

a busy mind 🩰

draco malfoy x fem!reader

in which draco malfoy helps calm his girlfriend before O.W.L.S

a/n : finals are coming up so here we are! i could use a baddie wizard telling me i��m smart and everything will be okay + during this stressful season i think we could all use someone to be soft with us🙂‍↔️

an anxious mind consumed you as you sat next to draco in the library. mid day was turning into afternoon and you were still in no position to leave, biting your quill and staring down at your potions assignment. how was it you’d been excellent at the subject until you were about to leave hogwarts? of course the plane would go down when it really started to count. it seemed even snapes obvious favouritism toward you couldn’t save you now.

your marks were everything. not just to you, but to your parents. to them, they were all you are. bitten nails, crease between your brows, a deep frown. how was draco, the person who knew you best, not going to notice? you sigh, knowing you've skipped more meals than you could count and spent so many hours in this library and yet you were still not where you felt you should be.

“hey,” he said in a whisper. craning his neck down he gave a small smile. “what’s going on inside that head of yours?”

your blank stare remained for a moment before finally speaking. “ ‘s nothing,” you murmured. but of course, he could not accept that answer.

"why won't you just let me help you? i'm… decent at herbology. even better at potions. and i'm an even better teacher." he winked at you, pulling a scoff from your lips.

“shut up.”

his pale hand slid over the book, covering the words to make you look up at him. “how about you take a break, hm?”

“not everyone woke up already knowing everything they needed, draco.”

if you were anyone else, draco would’ve given a snarky reply and been gone but you were… you. “alright, you’re done.” his chair scraped against the floor as he stood up. draco laid a firm hand on your shoulder as your face fell into your hands, his other one stacking your books and holding them under his arm. “c’mon. blaise and theo are studying in the great hall, my dorms empty.”

“this is important, draco.”

the blonde boy raised an eye brow as he put your potions and herbology books into your bag. “you know what else is important?” he asked, hands lifting you up by your rib age. “rest. and time with your boyfriend.”

swinging your bag now full of books over your shoulder you sigh, only agreeing to go because you plan on studying at his desk. “i rest and i spent plenty of time with you. i still have homework-“

“which i will do.” draco’s warm, comforting hand guided you through the dimly lit library, resting on the small of your back. “i’ll get it all done for you and then i’ll help you with whatever you need help with.”

the corridors were cold and empty, most students hunkered down in the library or the great hall. christmas trees shined down the normally dreary corridors and snow fell outside of the windows. “you will?”

“after you sleep for at least an hour and eat something,” draco said softly, his footsteps slower then usual to keep up with hers. he shushed her protest again, “y/n you’re smart, and dedicated, and whether you believe it or not you are prepared. it’ll all be okay.”

he whispered the password to the slytherin common room, hand falling from her back as she walked in first. the common room was busy, people on couches with open books and a quills. “go on,” he whispered gently. the two of you went up the spiraled staircase silently, footsteps padding up as the conversation downstairs died out.

a singular firework, no doubt made by a weasley twin, flew out of marcus flints dorm. a first year sprinted down the skinny hallway but slowed down at the sight of draco malfoy. it seemed not even final exams could stress out the boys of hogwarts.

“in you go,” draco spoke, taking your books and shutting the door behind them. sure enough, blaise and theodore were gone, but their messy corners of the dorm were proof they’d been there.

you sat down on the edge of dracos bed, a spot you’d snuck too for comfort so many times before. your feet pressed against the floor, eyes locked onto your feet. draco noticed your every move, your every gesture and sigh. kneeling before you, his hands gently unbuckled the straps of your shoes. cupping your heel with one hand the other sliding around your calf, he slipped them off one by one.

“so pretty,” he whispered, admiring your eyes.

a tiny smile appeared on your face, looking down at him. draco’s pale, cold hand held your cheek and slid into your hair. “go to sleep. i’ll wake you up for dinner and when we’re done i’ll teach you everything you need to know. lets give that busy mind a break.”

“draco-”

“look how warm that bed looks, huh?” your boyfriend interrupted, gently pulling you sweater over your head and grabbing one of his tshirts and pulling it over your head. his fingers fiddled with the button of your jeans. “and just think of how much more you’ll retain when you’re fed and well rested.”

draco took your chin between his fingers forcing you to nod once your jeans were folded on his dresser along with the black sweater. “good.” his shoes were kicked off as he sat against his pillow, pulling your head onto his chest.

draco malfoy was by no means an affectionate person, but that had changed when you came into the picture. how could his soulmate been hidden by the best friend title all this time? he brushed his fingers through your hair, his other hand rubbing your back. you were asleep in seconds and two hours later you were awoken by dinner in bed and a boyfriend with a cheesy grin.

- wishing you all the best on your finals

you’re so smart i believe in you!!

[allywthsr]

TRAVELING HOME | (l.norris)

summary: you and Lando travel home for Christmas

wordcount: 1.2k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

notes: read this please, I don’t know when the rest is coming out, I’m writing as fast as I can 🫶🏼

advent calendar

”Lando, do you have everything?“

You two were standing in your hallway with the luggage and backpacks, ready to fly home. Or at least to Lando’s home. This year was the Norris‘ turn of hosting the Christmas dinner and morning, your family would join you tomorrow.

”I think so.“

”You think or you know?“

”Uhm, I think that I know.“

”I‘m gonna check again.“

You shook your head with a smile, you were anxious. Anxious that you would forget something, you didn’t care about clothes because you could borrow some from Lando, but if you would forget a present, that would be fatal. You couldn’t exactly just pop over and get it, so you check at least five times if you packed them, before closing the suitcase. For one last time, you went into the guest room to check it for remaining presents, the bed was empty, under the bed too, just like the closet and the floor. The guest room was where you kept every present and wrapped them too, Lando didn’t help you at all with the wrapping, but you knew he wasn’t good at it.

The first two Christmas you got presents that were self-wrapped, and boy did they look funny, the wrapping was all over the place and it was more wonky than straight, and let’s not start with the amount of tape he used to secure the paper. Now he gets it wrapped immediately in the store he buys it from, or lets his mum wrap it. You always told him you didn’t care what it looked like wrapped, as long it came from the heart, but he was fed up with Oliver making fun of his (non-existent) skills.

After double-checking the guest room, and the office, because you had to make sure no one placed anything there, you went back to Lando to the hallway and grabbed your suitcase after pulling on your winter jacket.

”Do you really have anything? Toothbrush?“

”Put it in my bag this morning.“

”Underwear?“

”I brought enough, I hope you didn’t bring any, makes it more thrilling.“

”Gross! Beanies?“

”More than enough. Calm down, will you? We’re flying to my parents, they have stuff from me still in my room, and even you‘ve left clothes there.“

You let out a shaky breath.

Lando opened his arms and you fell into them, holding him close to you. You wanted everything to be perfect, you loved Christmas and it should run smoothly.

”But we really have to leave now.“

You nodded and let go of him, opening the door and walking through it, Lando locked the door and you stepped into the elevator. Outside of your building, a taxi was waiting for you, you two got in and it drove you to the Nice airport.

Lando had a cap on his head and a hoodie, trying to disguise, so he wouldn’t get recognized by people. Normally he always took his time with taking pictures and talking, but you’re already late, and he wanted you to be safe, mobs of people didn’t care about you, and more than once it happened, that you were pushed and shoved until you were crying.

You gave up your bags and made your way to the security check-in, the line wasn’t long, so you didn’t have to wait as long as you thought. The duty-free section was something you always admired, you always bought a little snack for the plane ride, sometimes it was some gummy bears or a chocolate bar, but Lando always had a bite, or multiple, not that you would tell Jon about it. But now, it didn’t matter, Lando was free for the next few months and could devour a whole Kinder bar pack and no one would care, he still needed to work out a few times a week, but it was less stressful.

You still had about thirty minutes until boarding would start, so you sat down in a quiet corner and talked about the most random things, your head was lying on his shoulder and his hand was gripping your thigh, stroking it gently every now and then. You loved cuddling with Lando, it was your favorite thing to do with him, even in public.

When the flight was announced, Lando and you slowly made your way to the counter, you avoided the big crowds, just in case someone recognized Lando or you. Scanning the pass quickly, you two walked through the long tunnel with your backpacks in your bags, where important stuff was packed. The plane was packed, so Lando pulled his cap further in his face and hoodie higher, so he could hide his face more. Luckily you didn’t have to walk for long through the plane, Lando booked business class tickets. You tried to tell him, you two didn’t need this, but what Lando wanted, he got. That was his Ariana Grande ’I want it, I got it‘ moment.

He insisted you two flew in business class, because, one, you didn’t need to walk through the whole plane and the chance of getting recognized was smaller, and two, you had more legroom, which he loved. But you let him buy it, because it was his money, and he could spend it on whatever he wanted.

When the plane was in the air, and you were settled in comfortably, you couldn't wait to get home, even if it was Lando’s home, it was still home. The smell of Christmas always smelt different when the whole family was there, especially because Cisca went big on Christmas. Tons of cookies were waiting for you, hot chocolates and teas as well, and let’s not forget the beautiful Christmas dinner and breakfast she always did. And that your family also came, made things even better. Normally you would’ve hosted Christmas, but the flat was way too small for everyone to fit in, and Monaco was expensive, the hotel costs would’ve been unnecessary.

”I can’t wait to be home, see everyone.“

You hummed and thought about the last Christmas you spent there, it was the second Christmas you two were together and you decided you wanted to spend it together. The Norris‘s hosted it and it was like you always joined them, everyone had a small gift for you, they all welcomed you beautifully in the family, not that they hadn’t before, but now it felt official, and the whole mood was perfect.

When you arrived, you quickly got off the plane, to avoid the other people and waited for the luggage at the strap, of course, yours came almost at the end, you couldn’t wait to get out of the airport. London Heathrow was busy, very busy. While walking next to the big crowds and lines, you could hear mumbling ’Is that Lando Norris?‘ but you only pulled more on his hand and you two were almost sprinting through the halls, wanting to reach the exit where Oliver was kindly waiting to pick you up.

You greeted him with a hug, Lando did the same and you quickly got in his car and you were driving home for Christmas.

[hanbinswifey]

SNIPER SNIPER .. (Sniper, Sniper)

Wifey, Wifey.

[EXTREME soft core; praise, thigh-riding. SOFTDOM 승한빈 4thewin!]

loosely proofread—BE KIND!!

Outside a homey looking bar, a black, slick suv pulls up. The tires screech as civilians hurry to move out of the way. A well dressed, ash-blonde man steps out of the vehicle, his eyes crunched apologetically.

His sweet smile charms any anger thrown at him, as he passes through people with a gentle hand and an “Excuse me.”

He squirmes through the crowd of sweaty bodies, ignoring every hand that grasps his shoulder, or his waist. He couldn’t care less about anything but finding you.

The ping of his phone draws his attention, and he narrows his eyes as he reads, “You passed me.”

He looks around, seeing an empty bar, when it hits him. He turns around, walking back outside to the parking lot. “Y/n!”

“Here, Binnie..” Your drunk voice catches him by surprise. He turns around and faces you, sitting on the edge of the curb, completely out of sight. You look up at him with a smile, giggling.

Despite himself, he bites his lip at your cuteness. He can never stay mad at you.

He kneels down, eyeing your slumped figure. Your hair is slicked back beautifully, black dress and black gloves, a fur coat stretched over your shoulders he recognized as the one he bought you last christmas. Your legs and hands are freezing, and your lip shivers despite the heat of your flustered cheeks.

He pouts softly, taking your warm face in his hands. You match his actions, making him laugh, his dimples perking up against his cheeks. “Did you come here alone, honey?”

“No—! I was…was,” You sneeze, a loud sound. Your nose runs a bit and you sniff, and Hanbin look at you with only adoration. “My baby is cold, is that it?” You nod, his tone softens, he laughs.

He hums for you to continue, brushing your cheeks with his thumbs, pulling on your swollen lip a bit.

It’s all so cute. Your irritated nose, your bruised lips, your doll eyes looking up at him.

You seem to contemplate on your answer for a while, “Uhm…uh…” You trail off, not able to form a completely thought. He looks at you with a small heat, but he shakes his head.

“Baby, how about we get home now, hm?”

You nod, and he smiles sweetly, “Okay, up you go.” He holds onto your waist as you stumble a bit, leaning against him as you pull yourself up. You hit his chest and you sigh deeply, leaning back to look up at him confused, then down at his chest. To which you then take your hand and hit it,

“Hard..” You whisper, making him burst into laughter. “Ah, my chest is hard?” He laughs, eyes crescent and full of amusement. “Mm.”

A gentle hand on your back leads you to the car.

Halfway through the drive home, you feel your eyes begin to open. More aware, you look at your boyfriend and are filled with love and content.

The more you look at him, though, you begin to feel different. You watch him brush his white hair back with his hand, the other steady on the wheel as he taps his finger on his thigh. Everything about him was so, so..

The way his eyebrow twitched softly when a person attempted to cut him off, but he immediately remains composed, exhaling out through his nose softly as he checks his blind spot.

That was the thing you loved most about your boyfriend. He was so calm. So patient, loving, caring.

You felt a wetness form between your legs.

It really turned you on.

“Alright, here we go.”

You are sat on the bed, legs across Hanbin’s lap as he unbuckles your tall heels.

“Was wondering why you were taller than me when I picked you up,” he jokes, and you smile, giggling.

He rubs your ankles slowly, the bruising making him cringe. “How do you walk in these anyway? It must be exhausting.” You narrow your eyes at him in a question, “You never did heels?”

He glares at you softly, and you both start laughing. You swing your legs off his lap softly.

“Come here,” he mutters, patting his lap once more, adjusting himself against the headboard of the bed. You bite your lip softly, flustered. He gives you a small smile, “I don’t bite.”

You’re slightly uncoordinated, but it doesn’t matter. You throw the coat off on the chair and crawl to him slowly.

You didn’t mean to do it seducingly, but his inhale of breath lets you know it caught him off guard. You look down at your chest that is peeking out of your dress. You let out an embarrassed giggle, before wrapping you legs around his waist. He looks at you softly, “My beautiful baby, how’d I get so lucky, hm?”

You gasp softly as he slides his hand down to grip your waist. His own grip, that has memorized your dip at this point, fitting perfectly into place. He pinches softly, before making a come hither motion with his pointer finger.

As you lean your in, you lick your lips softly. Once you’re in distance, he smiles softly, his finger taking its place under your jaw. Your lips lock together in a soft kiss.

Your hands find his shoulders as he tilts his head, sliding his hand down to the back of your neck to hold you softly. He pulls back. He’s gentle with you at first, always. Soft and sweet. You grind your hips against his lap, feeling hot in your stomach.

He looks down at your thighs with a cute smile, “What’s this?” He then slides both his hands down to feel up your thighs. Finding the sensitive plush of skin right below your crotch , he squeezes hard.

“Hngh,” you exhale quietly, burying your face into his shoulder.

It was embarrassing, but you liked feeling…submissive for him.

You hear him coo at you, “So cute.” As you feel your ears and body begin to burn, you continue grinding your hips softly and Hanbin leans in to kiss your neck. His skilled tongue runs down and sucks on your collarbone, pulling a small sound from your throat.

You are chasing a faraway pleasure, blocked by a multitude of things.

Hanbin either took pity on you or fun at you, because he laughs, maneuvering your whole body up off his main lap and onto his right knee in seconds. “Come on baby.”

You moan out, grabbing the back of his neck as he flexes his thigh, his hard muscle rubbing against your clothed clit.

“That feel good?” He whispers, kissing your cheek. You nod.

You can feel his smile, and he leans in to kiss you once more, harder, and deeper.

“Mm,” you both exhale into each other, and you quickly feel your strength deteriorating. He was the one with the core in the relationship. You feel him smile against your lips as his hands find their way down your body, caressing your stilled figure.

He laughs softly, sweetly, “Can’t do it anymore? Can’t do it yourself?”

You nod your head softly against his, eyes drifting off with sleepiness. You lean down further until you’re buried in his neck. Hanbin laughs in adoration, leaning into your ear,

“I’ve got you, sweet girl.” Both his hands make way, brushing your hip-line as he juts your hips back and forth. Your breathing grows heavy, coming out in short pants.

You grip his shirt softly.

He moves down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Making me do all the work? That’s alright, hah—baby can’t help herself.”

As the hot pleasure builds, arousing your pussy, you subconsciously clench your legs around his thigh, “C-close, Hanbin..?” You question, ever so sweet. He pours softly, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, “Close? My baby is close?”

You nod quickly, the heat building deliciously, the nerves around your abdomen tightening up, clenching—a seething hot burn that itches from inside. “Hah, hah hah…” you cry softly.

“That’s right, baby. Come all over Binnie’s leg. You feel so good.”

It feels so good.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your pussy pulsates, throbbing through your panties as ribbons untie in your stomach. He continues to guide you through it, liking every drop as you shake and quiver on him.

“Ah, yeah. There you go, princess.” His sweet voice soothes you, a smile on his face. You look out of the corner of your eyes, his crescent smile bringing you a warmth in your chest.

You claw the fabric of his shirt as he finally slows his movements, soothing where he left his mark.

After two minutes or so, you feel his fingers scratch at your temple softly. You look up at him, hazy. He strokes your head, twirling a finger around your hair.

He then grabs your hand, guiding it to his crotch, smiling at you sweetly. His evident bulge makes you gulp.

“Wanna return the favor?”

[kazucee]

MY NAME LIKE VELVET ON YOUR TONGUE !

pairings: [MARAUDERS] Remus Lupin x Sirius Black!

note: Merry Christmas wolfstar truthers, this is my gift to you! i missed writing about wolfstar so much and I had to make it everyone else's problem. A collection of fluffy moments where Remus is just down bad and Sirius is 'oblivious'. This was not proofread at all so I apologize if you find any mistakes! wc: 4.2k (never underestimate how much I can yap about them)

synopsis: Remus never liked his name, he always thought it sounded odd and bland. That all changed when he met Sirius Orion Black, a chaotic, mischief making boy with a smile that made him question every foundation of his character. Remus never liked his name, the only exception being when Sirius says it.

"Sirius Orion Black" the young lad introduced himself with a certain charisma, a certain aura that seemed to punctuate and bleed out of each posh syllable that slipped out of his mouth. This was the first time Remus had ever seen such pretty and well-kept hair, it made him uncomfortable and suddenly he found himself tongue-tied, deciding to remain mute as his newly acquired friends—James and Peter followed up with their own self-introductions. The lad looked at him with a raised brow seeing as he was the only one who hadn't spoken.

"And you?" It wasn't a question, more like a polite demand, an unconscious slip-up that originated from blood heritage, old money, unwanted piano lessons, perfect images and broken family lines. Remus could almost see the way this boy—Sirius, physically recoiled from the tone he had used.

"What's your name?" It came out a bit softer this time, tentative, as if tasting the way those words molded with that tone. Remus had to fight back the urge to deck him across the face.

"Remus. John. Lupin." his voice came out scratchy and rough and he hated how it sounded compared to his.

"Sirius Orion Black" James Potter yells, brows furrowed in mild contempt from across the hallway with his multicoloured locks that had just shifted to orange. The charismatic boy simply lets out a chuckle as he hides behind the conveniently placed taller man in front of him, something he seemed to do a lot whenever Remus was around. "Remus, don't you think he'd make a wonderful redhead?" Sirius snickers as he sees James heading towards the two of them, his almond eyes furious.

"Debatable." The taller boy hums, his attention split between the way Sirius was lightly clutching on his robes and the herbology readings he was trying to focus on.

"Remus John Lupin" he shifted his gaze from the book to meet those blueish-grey eyes, like the calm before a raging storm, the waves just before they take you under. Sirius had a habit of saying his full name to get Remus' attention, the other boy hadn't the faintest clue why but he won't deny that he didn't look forward to hearing the other say his name in that faint posh accent of his he tries desperately to hide.

"Moony, you truly couldn't spare me a second of your time?" A pout, a scrunch of a well-defined brow and Remus felt his heart sigh pathetically as he watched his hand betray him by tucking the Herbology text away to give the other the attention he so desperately needed (he had always had it.)

"Sirius Orion Black with the magnificent save" Usually Remus didn't care for Quidditch, he didn't care at all, he actually would rather be inside the Gryffindor common room with his books and the warm fire, not out here where the bite of winter left his throat oddly parched and nose in the perpetual state of runny. But then there he was, the star player of team Gryffindor. People would argue that that position is tailored for James Potter but Remus thinks otherwise.

There are people who shine brightly on the playing field and Remus would admit that James qualified perfectly for that—akin to the sun.

Stars however don't shine, they twinkle, pretty if you observe them enough but usually overlooked in favour of the moon.

His movements like quicksilver, Sirius easily beats the ball in the other direction without so much as a small taunting grin that makes Remus stare and stare and— it throws the entire offence side of Team Slytherin off balance momentarily allowing James to score another goal. The crowd cheers as Gryffindor finally secures a win, over the chorus of all the drums and trumpets and obnoxious screaming Remus caught Sirius patting James on the back. He was smiling again.

He didn't look away when their eyes met. Sirius flew down towards the bleachers fluidly maneuvering the broom as if he was made to be on it. His hair was a mess, thrown haphazardly into a half-moon hairstyle and Remus found himself resisting the urge to run his fingers through it. Sirius always had that specific effect on people, it wasn't just Remus. Can the boy be blamed if those ebony locks truly looked as if they were spun by the night sky?

"better than reading your boring books ain't it moony?" His voice snapped Remus out of his daze, it took all his willpower to hold his hand back, clenching his fingers into a fist as he shoved it into the pockets of his robes suddenly feeling cold despite having knitted gloves on.

“You missed that one bludger" Remus replied with a bored expression but anyone could see the way those eyes the shade of aged leather sparkled with admiration for the man in front of him.

"There's no pleasing you" Sirius groans dramatically, rolling his eyes but Remus didn't miss the small quirk of his lips into that nearly there smile.

"There's a lot of ways to please me" He finds himself saying with a shrug as he stood from his place on the bleachers,

Sirius was still on the broom in a position that no sane person would try to do. He could see the way Sirius paused in his movement on the broom, eyes meeting his again, the winter air felt a bit more warm.

"Noted." Sirius snorts as he floats a bit closer and for a moment Remus lets himself imagine.

The ebony-haired boy suddenly grins, flicks the skin between his eyes and shoots up with his broom, joining James and the Gryffindor team for a photograph. Fixing his hair as he smiles that Godforsaken Sirius Black smile.

Remus blinks. Sighs. Picks up his books and calms his beating heart.

“Moony”

“Moony”

“Mooonnn-”

“Oh for Merlin's sake, Sirius Black” Remus found himself groaning aloud as the man finally ceased his unwanted whines.

It was snowing harder to the point where even the all-mighty cannot be touched Sirius Black decided his talents were best spent indoors…annoying the wits out of Remus. At first, he let it slide as it was simply harmless spells being cast, a couple of pens levitated overhead, the occasional snicker that Remus would always find himself straining his ears to listen in to, the faint humming of a random tune that often had Remus rereading the same paragraph again and again.

That was until Sirius decided that Remus was far more interesting than measly levitation spells or stacking cards and unfortunately took the liberty of sitting dangerously close by and calling his nickname to get his attention.

“Sorry,” The ebony-haired boy says, tone apologetic but his grin is anything but. Remus gave a bemused glance, sparing himself from another round of whining he cleverly put his charms textbook aside.

“Fine, you win. You have my attention, what do you want.” He said rather bluntly trying to ignore the way the other looked at him like he was some sort of constellation Sirius was trying to figure out the name of (quite ridiculous considering that he knows for a fact that Sirius is updated with all the different constellations in the sky, charting stars despite claiming that astronomy was for losers.)

“Well technically I really did only want your attention” There it was, that Cheshire grin full of mischief and an underlying emotion that Remus could not for the life of him determine. His stare stayed the same, bemused, but for a brief second they wandered down somewhere other than Sirius’ twinkling grey eyes, he mentally steeled himself.

“I am picking up my charms textbook again” The brush of a hand, it wasn't his own. Sirius had reached over, taking Remus’ scarred hand in his own to prevent him from picking up the textbook.

A collective intake of breaths.

A collective shockwave of electricity humming through their bones at the contact of skin on skin. Hand in hand.

Remus then realized not only was Sirius (too) close to him but that his eyes were such a pretty mirage of blue and grey under the soft winter lighting like starlight polishing platinum. His long lashes framing those starlit eyes, a girl's envy, heck even Remus found himself envious.

Oh God. Say something. Remus found himself thinking.

“Why are your hands so cold-”

“Ditching me for a charms book-”

It seems their trains of thought ran the same track only to collide painfully. The silence was thick and uncomfortable and Remus wanted any distraction at this point, anything to keep him from staring into Sirius' eyes because the feeling he got from doing so was going to gnaw at him from the inside out.

“My hands are that cold?” Sirius with the lightning recovery breaks the silence first and Remus finally shifts his gaze towards the pale digits that were wrapped around his own hand. He did have such nice hands. Defined bones with well-trimmed nails accompanied with chipped black nail polish and sloppily drawn star designs, it almost made Remus laugh.

“Like a block of ice.” He quipped after spending an embarrassingly long amount of time staring at the others hand.

“Rude.” Without looking he could already tell that those starlit eyes were narrowed, the mere thought making his lip twitch. “I think it has something to do with poor blood circulation” Remus says, his voice trying its best to sound aloof and uncaring.

He still hasn't let go.

He still hasn't let go.

“And your hand is warm,” Sirius remarked softly, fingers shifting slightly to caress one of the scars littered on tanned skin. Remus swallowed thickly at the sensation.

“I have good blood circulation” His voice was less aloof, less uncaring, he hated how it sounded compared to Sirius'. His heart pounded like a drum, he wondered if Sirius could hear the symphony he caused just from a simple touch, a simple caress.

“Are you seriously saying that your blood circulation is better than mine?”

Leave it to Sirius for ruining… well a serious moment.

“Are you serious?” Remus found himself saying out loud, his voice bewildered at the audacity of this man and his ability to make the most insignificant thing such as blood circulation a competition.

“Why yes, I am Sirius.”

Impossible. The only word first that could describe the grinning idiot in front of him.

“Sirius Orion Black!” a panicked whisper rang out making the paintings huff in mild annoyance. Remus frankly didn't care, not when his best friend was minutes away from getting caught by a prefect or even worse. Argus Filch.

The darkness of the castle's hallway was their only cover—well and the invisibility cloak James had lent them. But what use did the invisibility cloak serve if one keeps making it a point to waltz around like they own the place?

“You are going to get us caught-”

“Can you stop worrying for once moony?” Sirius quickly shot back as he turned the hall with practised ease like he had all the turns memorized. A highly likely situation given that he and James have been planning this prank for months. Multiple nights of Sirius sneaking into James' bed, the whispers before one of them finally casts an Imperturbable Charm.

Remus somehow always ended up roped into these things; he was quite certain it was because of James' annoying pestering and not a certain someone giving him those stupid puppy dog eyes.

“I'll stop worrying when we actually reach our destination without any problem. Something that won’t happen if you keep prancing around like a drunk on Christmas Eve.” Remus hissed out annoyed out of his mind, emphasizing the ‘prancing around’ part, the painting in the hall gave a few grunts of displeasure at the ruckus the two were causing.

“How many times must I repeat myself—we will be fine. Either way, if I get caught you won't be affected seeing as you're invisible” Sirius prattled on, abruptly facing Remus or at least where he thought Remus was situated.

Remus didn't have the heart to tell Sirius that he was actually not beside him but behind him. Well no—it was more like he found it amusing. Watching Sirius talk to thin air like he had gone mad. He took a moment to marvel at how terrible the other was when it came to pinpointing the source of his voice.

“and plus it's hot in the cloak” Sirius added with a huff and he sees him turn his face from ‘Remus’. That was a point Remus couldn't refute, after all, they weren't exactly children anymore. During their 1st and 2nd years all four of them could easily fit in the cloak, right now even with two people it felt cramped and Remus didn't want to imagine what it felt like being pressed close against Sirius shuffling around in the dark.

His cheeks felt warm and he immediately thought of something else. The silence continued. Sirius wandered the halls whilst Remus trailed behind him like a shadow.

If there was something Remus was sure about it was that Sirius couldn't bear the silence, always using that loud mouth of his to fill it with nonsensical rambles. Apparently sneaking around wasn't an exception to that endearing annoying trait of his.

“It would be hilarious to run into Minnie” Remus could almost hear Professor McGonagalls eye roll at the telltale nickname Sirius and James so graciously bestowed on her. “I also can't wait to see the look on snivellus’ face when-”

Remus heard it first and acted so quickly that he didn't have time to register it himself. The sound of footsteps, the tug of an arm, the small ‘oof’ sound Sirius let out when Remus pressed him against the wall effectively concealing them both under the invisibility cloak.

First, it was dark and only their breathing could be heard. Remus tried his best to look away from Sirius because only Godric Gryffindor himself knew how much self-control he had and how much he was willing to throw away just to—

Footsteps. Then the warm glow of a lantern. Filch appeared from the corner with Ms. Norris behind him, the beady-eyed cat let out a yowl almost as if it could sense the presence of two boys hiding in plain sight. Remus felt Sirius shift uncomfortably as if trying to put more space between them and failing to do so. The motion caused Remus to break that internal rule he placed in his mind(the‘don't-look-at-Sirius-when-he-is-dangerously-close-to-you-rule’)

‘Filch’ Sirius mouthed once the two made eye contact.

Remus had always been good at reading lips, and Sirius had always been good at enunciating his syllables. Something that Remus was made painfully aware of at this moment.

Their only source of light was the warm glow of the small lantern Filch carried in his hand; as he moved, the light would shift as well, perfectly highlighting all the sharp contours of Sirius’ face. Sirius and his stupidly good-looking face, with his stupid lips-

‘Remus’ Sirius looked alarmed

He tenses when he hears Mrs.Norris let out yet another meow, this time closer.

“What is it girl?” he hears Filch approach and his heart practically performs a whole gymnastics routine right then and there.

‘MOVE.’ Sirius’ eyes seem to say, wide with alarm as he grabs the wrist of Remus’ left hand, he could see the way those eyes frantically looked behind him in panic. Honestly, when it came to fight or flight situations Remus would choose neither as he believed in his capabilities of not getting into such predicaments. But he could hear Filch and Mrs. Norris getting closer by the minute. He grabs his wand quickly

Quietus.

He uttered the spell in his mind, he didn't think it'd work—he never tried mentally casting a spell but at this point he was desperate. There was a small tingle that ran through the entirety of his body before reaching the tip of his wand, the spell had been casted. His other arm circled easily around Sirius’ waist and Remus was rewarded with a small surprised squawk and with little to no effort he hoisted the other boy up, one arm hooked under his knees with the other supporting his back. He heard the cat hiss in contempt as he ran away, Sirius despite being stunned still managed to pin the invisibility cloak to them as Remus ran, he didn't stop till he was sure they were far away from Filch and Mrs. Norris.

“Remus. John. Lupin.” Sirius’ voice danced and coated every single syllable of his name with that honeyed posh accent of his but Remus could tell by the way it shook in the end that he was nervous (or ecstatic? You can never tell in Sirius' case)

He realized he was still carrying him. He didn't want to let go. His fingers twitch slightly under the weight of Sirius, he weighed nothing, or was Remus convincing himself of that because he wanted to hold the other close for just a moment longer.

He made a plan in his mind. It was simple really as it only required two steps.

If Sirius told him to set him down he would.

If Sirius doesn't then he won't.

He lets the silence ruminate for a bit, his earlier run turning into a slow easy pace.

Sirius is in his arms.

Sirius is in his arms.

Sirius is in his arms.

His heart was pounding hard. With how close Sirius was he was sure the other could feel it, feel it reverberating throughout every cavity of his being. He didn't think to reply back to him, just relishing in the way his name was said.

If Sirius had any plans on getting off he didn't make it known. It was only until they reached the Gryffindor common room with James' curious smile and Peter's half awake mumbles did Sirius react, shifting to get down. Remus let him, finding himself stupidly missing the weight.

“Sirius Orion Black what in Merlin's name are you doing?” Remus always had that one particular spot in the library, a spot that was hidden away from all the sounds of quills scribbling and soft murmurs of practice spells. When he wasn't running around with the Marauders or lounging at the Gryffindor common room he was found here.

“Joining you? To study?” Sirius replied casually, accentuating that point by slamming a tower of textbooks on the table making the library's noises pause for a bit, as if sensing a newcomer. Remus glared at him already feeling a headache forming, a very Sirius Black specific headache.

“You don't study” Remus eyed him quizzically, his ebony hair more ruffled and fussed through as he sat down next to him.

“I do!”

“No you don't.”

Silence. Remus was staring at him, head cradled against his palm. Sirius glanced at him then at the tower of books. Remus spotted a divination book as he read along the spines of the tower. “I thought you hated potions.” Remus remarked casually making Sirius flinch as if he had been caught, as if he had just coincidentally wandered into the library, grabbed whatever book he could find to add to the already accumulating pile of books, like he was looking for some kind of excuse.

“well yes…but you love potions don't you moony?” Sirius asks perfect brow arched. Remus huffs out a small snort leans against his seat and runs a hand through his messy brown locks. “Perchance. However Lily is way more brilliant-”

“Teach me,” Sirius proclaimed loudly in a haughty tone and his sudden skittish demeanour completely vanished. With eyes narrowed and lips pursed in contemplation Remus glanced at him then at his coursework that he had yet to finish.

“And what's in it for me?” He mused.

“You can't just do it because I'm your best friend? And the fact that I'll flunk out if I fail the next test?” Sirius says with a bruised expression, Remus rolls his eyes at the others wounded puppy look. He knew for a fact that Sirius—despite disliking a lot of subjects—actually has a natural talent for perfecting them. He also knew that Sirius studies just as hard as all of them but he keeps that mask of ‘i didn't study at all' whenever anyone would ask him. So he knew that Sirius couldn't possibly be failing potions, his pride and ego wouldn't allow it.

“... what's in it for me Black?” Remus repeated his tone amused. Amused in the way Sirius rolled his eyes and let out a small huff of annoyance. Remus liked it when he didn't give Sirius what he wanted right away, there's a certain appeal to it.

“I won't drag you out of bed for the next two Quidditch matches.” tempting. But Remus simply remained silent, brow raised.

“I'll stop charming your things to disappear and reappear in different places” Remus bristled.

“Wait so that's why my quills ended up under Pete's bed-”

“Anyways-”

“If you want me to even have you sit next to me, you'd stop that” He threatens pointing his quill at Sirius, his only response was a bright grin showing pearly white teeth.

“Oh I know ! How about I treat you and the guys to butterbeer in hogsmeade?” Sirius suggested, his eyes sparkling at the idea and it made Remus’ heart clench painfully.

Ah yes, the infamous Hogsmeade trip was coming up. To Remus' dismay both James and Sirius wouldn't take him wanting to cozy up in bed with a book as an answer. At the others expecting look he gives a small sigh, saying a small goodbye to his self respect and silently acquiesces.

“Pull out the Potions textbook- no not like that-” He quickly stops Sirius from recklessly toppling the entire tower of books onto both of them.

“Alright Professor Lupin. Let's begin.” a grin and a small shove from Remus and the two finally started on their lesson.

★

It didn't even surprise Remus anymore. The soft snores that are barely even noticeable unless you listen in carefully, ebony locks splayed messily across the mahogany table, coursework and textbooks surrounded a sleeping Sirius 'just a few minute break’ Black. The two worked for a decent hour and a half before Sirius kindly asked (pleaded) for a break then proceeded to nap for the next twenty or so minutes leaving Remus in silence again.

Saved for the small intakes of air. Remus shouldn't have found it distracting. But when he found himself messing up simple arithmetics because of it he promptly pushed away his coursework and buried his head in his arms, his mind letting out a silent scream.

He was sure Sirius had planned this the entire damned time. He always had a knack for distracting Remus at the worst possible moment. He lifted his head slightly leaning it so that his cheek was against his arm and that he had a clear view of Sirius sleeping face.

In the dim light of the library the strands of his hair appeared like spilled ink draping his pale face. Remus admired him for a small moment. He looked peaceful, his brow relaxed, chest rising and falling rhythmically. Remus admired all the features he never got to because of his strict ‘don't get too close’ policy when it came to Sirius. But sleeping Sirius was different from awake Sirius so Remus made exceptions.

He moved just a tad bit closer.

Sirius had clear skin; he wondered how soft it'd feel under his skin. There were a couple moles littered here and there, under his eye, on his jawline, one on the apple of his cheek. The most shocking discovery is the barely there scar located over his brow.

Remus’ traitorous hand moved first tracing the contours of Sirius' face, his touch light and fleeting, a hair's breadth away from the others skin. He swallowed thickly, feeling his heart rise from its place in his ribcage all the way to his throat. His hand pulled away only for it to land on the soft wisps of inky locks, he pushed it back tucking it behind Sirius' ear.

He really wanted to kiss him.

He might just do it.

He stares long and hard at the others slightly parted lips. It was unfair at how pleasant they looked, almost tempting him to seal them with his own, just an innocent peck would send him overboard—heck even imagining kissing his best friend was enough to muddle his mind.

He takes his hand away gently and as soon as he does a sort of longing hits him. Longing to card his hands through the others hair, to caress his cheeks, to map the location of all his moles and burn them into his memory, to find out the scars that marred his skin and to show him his own ones.

He leans in.

skin meets skin. Warmth steeped in warmth.

His lips brushed against the other's forehead for a brief moment before he pulled away. Those brief moments felt like eternity, a thousand heartbeats expressed in a simple innocent peck.

Remus pulled away. His cheeks prickled with heat as he focused his attention back on his arithmetic homework, making it a point not to look at Sirius or even think of Sirius.

He missed the smallest quirk of lips and the hammering pulse of the ‘sleeping’ wizard beside him.

Note: made it to the end? Have a cookie 🍪 the plot was non existent and I feel like I fudged up the pacing a bit TT? Can you tell I just wanted to write about the two of them TT (I might make this a mini series because I plan to write part two ! This time instead of names it's kisses mwhehehe so stay tuned for that one) 𐙚 reblogs, comments, and likes are always much appreciated.

The characters are from JK. Rowling's world, I don't associate myself with the author. © All rights reserved

Art: Anteyka (GUYS IF YOU KNOW THE ARTIST PLS DM ME. a Pinterest comment says it's them but I'm not 100% sure!)

[writerfae]

Christmas movie AU Advent Calendar 🎄

Day Two: 🧝Elf🧝

Christmas special tag list: @bunnymermaidsblog @deadlycupid @dustylovelyrun @ladywithalamp @sleepy-night-child @theguywithnonickname

Talon still hadn’t quite processed that he had gotten into a come-to-life Christmas movie town.

It felt foreign, more so than a normal rural town and would take much getting used to.

He still wasn’t quite sure if he didn’t fall into an alternate universe.

After his aggravating collusion with one of the citizens, Talon had settled into the Inn where he would be staying at for the duration of his “mission”.

It was a nice place with an even nicer owner and cozy little rooms that reminded Talon a little of the guest rooms in his late uncle’s house that Talon and his sister Sera used to stay at when they visited.

Greta had welcomed him warmly, giving him a little background info on the strange little town he found himself in.

“You have come to the best of times, my boy, around Christmas Woodside is a magical place,” she had said.

Then she winked at him and since Talon didn’t have the heart to tell that old lady that he was not such a big fan of Christmas (he wasn’t that much of an asshole, alright?), he had only nodded politely as she continued to tell him about the town’s big Christmas tradition.

It was very old and very beloved apparently.

So, Talon should’ve expected it, really, when the next day he paid the local Café a visit (Greta had warmly suggested it) and he found himself in yet another cozy but obnoxiously Christmas-themed place.

There really was no escaping.

But that didn’t stop him from going up to the counter anyway. Maybe he’d get some info about the farm and its owner – and a coffee to calm his nerves along the way.

He was greeted by a girl with dark curls, friendly eyes and freckles all over her nose.

She wore a red and green apron and a Santa hat, that looked cute on her but also a little funny and was yet again so cliché Christmas movie that Talon had to refrain from rolling his eyes.

The girl smiled brightly at him and Talon immediately regretted even just thinking something mean in her presence.

“Hello! I’m Maya, how may I help you?”

Talon ordered his long anticipated coffee (it’s not like he already had two cups at Greta’s this morning) and one of the very tasty looking pastries on the counter for his daily dose of sugar.

Maya nodded. “Coming right up!”

She turned around to make the coffee and Talon waited, unsure whether he was supposed to do so or just take a seat.

The Café was busy, more so than Talon would’ve expected from such a small town.

A family eating pancakes, some students with their laptops, an older married couple, a girl reading in the corner and two dark haired guys seemingly on a date, holding hands while bickering over who could have the last bite of the chocolate cake they shared.

Only a seat by the window and one in the corner near the restroom sign remained.

“You are not from here, right? I’ve never seen you before.”

Maya’s voice snapped him out of his inner debate.

Talon nodded. “Just came here yesterday.”

“Are you here because of Christmas? Many people from outside come here around this time of year to visit us.”

Far from it, Talon thought. If only she knew.

He shook his head. “I’m here for work. Research,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t want him to go into detail.

No one should know about his true intentions.

Smalltowns like these were always a tight community. If they knew Talon was here to get one of them to leave, they’d probably throw him out of town.

Peaceful Christmas time or not.

Maya turned around to face him, his coffee in her hand.

She seemed to have noticed that Talon didn’t really want to talk about his job, so she remained quiet, only giving him another bright smile.

“Well, I hope you get to enjoy your time here still. You chose the right time to be here.”

God, she sounded like Halea and Greta. Talon thanked her, then he took the seat by the window.

Time passed as he drank his coffee (that tasted really good, by the way), ate the pastry (that was also really good) and worked on his laptop.

After a while Maya went to check on him and Talon got the opportunity to ask her about the Christmas tree farm.

Her eyes lit up as she told him about it and Talon wondered why that was the case. It was just a farm after all, one of many in the region.

Good, the other ones were farther away than this one, but still, it wasn’t a big deal.

Or maybe he only told himself that to justify him being there to get the owner to sell it.

“I practically grew up with this farm, many of us did,” Maya said. “You should ask my friend Aiden about it, he-”

She was interrupted by a customer calling for her.

“I’m coming!”

She turned back to Talon to give him an apologetic smile. “Excuse me.”

Then she went over to the customer and Talon turned back to his laptop.

Another half an hour passed when someone new came blown into the Café, making the little bell above the door ring as the door was all but ripped open.

“Sorry, Maya, I’m late.”

Talon froze right in his tracks. He had heard that voice before.

Looking up from his laptop, he looked to the door to confirm his suspicion of just who had entered the Café just now.

But there was no one there.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to his laptop.

Was he imagining things now?

This town clearly messed with his head. There was no way he just heard that guy from yesterday, right?

Well, wrong.

Because not even five minutes later, he stood before Talon.

The guy that he ran into on his way to the Inn yesterday.

“Look who we have here,” the guy said, smirk evident in his voice.

God, Talon thought, just my luck. He looked up to meet the other’s gaze – and couldn’t help but snort.

The guy looked ridiculous.

Still more handsome than Talon would like to admit, but ridiculous.

Hat and scarf were gone, instead the stranger wore a green and red apron matching that of Maya, a green elf hat on top of his dark brown hair and to top it off, comically large looking fake elf ears.

It looked like out of a low budget Christmas comedy.

It looked stupid. It looked… absolutely adorable.

Talon should probably watch his behavior, after all he had been pretty mean to that guy yesterday. To offend him again now would probably not be wise.

Talon already saw himself getting kicked out of the Café.

“Yeah, yeah,” the stranger said with a dismissive wink of his hand.

The smirk on his face and the mischievous spark in his eyes gave away that he wasn’t as offended as the gesture made it look and as Talon had feared.

“It’s funny, I know. But the people love it. The kids especially. And it’s Christmas, so…” He shrugged.

Then he held out his hand, which reminded Talon of yesterday, where Talon had ignored said hand even if all the other man wanted to do was help him.

Yeah, Talon should probably apologize for that. But the stranger was quicker.

“We had a bad start yesterday, let’s start anew. My name is Aiden, welcome to town.”

Talon took the offered hand and shook it. It was pleasantly warm.

“Talon,” he said.

While he still wondered why Aiden knew that he was new to town, the man already continued.

“Nice to meet you, Talon. And sorry that I made you fall yesterday. And for the city slicker thing…”

“It’s okay.” Talon chuckled. “Is it so obvious where im from?”

Aiden grinned. “Pretty much, yeah. Just your average city prick.”

He winked and Talon’s heart – that traitor – fluttered a little at that.

Stop that, he scolded it, we are not in a Hallmark movie, damn it.

“Now that that is settled, can I bring you anything?” Aiden asked.

Talon nodded. “A coffee.”

Though he probably really shouldn’t have another one.

“Please,” he added, remembering his manners (his mother would be so proud).

Aiden smiled, raising an eyebrow.

Which shouldn’t look this attractive, especially not when he was dressed up as a goddamn elf.

“You know that word?”

“Only when it comes to coffee.”

Aiden laughed at that, before leaving to get Talon’s order done.

Behind the counter, him and Maya started a conversation Talon couldn’t hear from the distance, but for a short moment the two looked over to him, before turning away just as quickly and continuing to talk in hushed whispers.

Talon wasn’t so sure what to think of that.

As Aiden returned to his table, he placed a transparent mug with a drink that was definitely not coffee.

The drink was of a way lighter, almost cream-colored brown, with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles and a little candy cane on top.

And it smelled so wonderfully of nutmeg and cinnamon that Talon couldn’t even bring himself to complain that this was very much not what he ordered.

Still, he threw Aiden a questioning look, to which Aiden only chuckled.

“Maya said you already had three coffees,” he explained. “She told me to remind you that too much coffee is bad for you and bring you something else instead.”

He gestured to the mug as if to present a prize Talon just won.

“Christmas Chai Latte. One of the house’s specialties.”

Because Talon still didn’t say anything, just looking at the mug and then at Aiden, Aiden started to fumble, cheeks coloring a little.

“B-but if you rather want your coffee-”

“No,” Talon smiled. “This works too. In fact, you guys are right about the coffee probably and this looks really good. So thank you.”

He reached out for the mug, closing his finger around its warmth. Aiden’s smile returned to his face.

“Great! This one is on the house, as apology for bulldozing you.”

Now it was Talon’s cheeks that were coloring. “Thank you. And… I’m sorry too. You know, about calling you an idiot. And a blunderer.”

Aiden laughed again. “It’s already forgotten. Enjoy your Christmas Chai Latte.”

And that Talon did.

[celestiall0tus]

Welcome to my Madness

You've traveled to a dark place. Turn back now else your mind be lost now.

My Insanity:

I am a mildly functioning adult in my late 20s. I am a Taurus that loves long walks to the fridge. I am aroace (romance positive/sex adverse) poly, lesbian (for a lack of a better term), and non-binary. I use all pronouns, but most people use she/her.

I spend most my days drawing, writing, or playing video games, mainly Elder Scrolls Online. I am currently too deep into the miraculous fandom to see the light of day, so save yourselves.

Links

Patreon || Discord || DeviantArt || Ao3 || Ko-Fi

Announcements

Requests and Commissions:

Commissions are now available!! See link below!

Commission Sheets and Prices

Changing up how I do requests. General requests are only available for Patreons, but I will have requests open on here. I will accept them so long as they follow these set of rules:

Must be submitted to my ask box. If they are through DMs or Discord, I will not do them as I'll undoubtedly forget.

Miraculous only

I will draw only from my AUs

No kwami swaps

Fanworks:

On top of the designs, I do write AU fanfictions that greatly deviate from the show with their own system of how the kwamis work, their powers, their lore, etc. You can find them and the following platforms:

DeviantArt || Ao3

For here, you'll find them here:

Miraculous:

Miraculous AU || Salvation || Absolution || Separate Worlds || Paradise || All That Remained || Amaranthine || Court of Miracles || Tales of Bloody Bug and Chat Noir || Siren's Song || Into Another World || Belle || What If It's Us

Steven Universe:

Rejuvenation (Finished)

Hazbin Hotel:

Day of the Fall (Finished)

Truth Beneath the Rose

AU Fanfic Status:

Miraculous AU: Hiatus

Salvation: Back to Drawing Board

Absolution: Hiatus

Separate Worlds: Hiatus

Paradise: Hiatus

All That Remained:

All That Remained: Finished

Reawakening: Finished

Lady and the Scoundrel: Finished

Into the Fire: Finished

Long Road: Finished

Calm Before the Storm: Hiatus/Drawing Board

Amaranthine: Finished

Court of Miracles: Hiatus

Bloody Bug:

Prelude: Finished

Tales of Bloody Bug and Chat Noir: Hiatus

Siren's Song: Back to the Drawing Board

Into Another World: When I feel like it

Belle: Hiatus

What If It's Us: On Request/Suggestion

Rejuvenation: Finished

As per asks, I have a pieced together explanations of the AU system I use for my miraculous fanfics here:

Avatars || Miraculous Miracles || How the Kwamis Work || Holders Powers || OC Kwamis and Gimmi Powers || Kwami List || AU Ship Names || Holder Names || Bloody Bug Power Upgrades

Siren's Song Acknowledgements

I want to add this for anyone curious about my goals when it comes to writing. Check it out here

Designs:

To make some designs easier to find, I'll be including some main posts with all the designs on them.

Kwamis || Miraculous AU Hero || Miraculous AU Civilian || Miraculous AU Gala || Salvation || Absolution || Paradise || Amaranthine || Bloody Bug || Siren's Song || All That Remained || Separate Worlds || Court of Miracles

I do create a variety of designs and swaps that can be used for free by anyone. No credit is needed, but is appreciated.

Free to Use Designs Master Post

Extra:

To everyone with me so far, thank you. I've met some wonderful people in this fandom and look forward to meeting and getting to know more of you.

I am always open for discussions, questions, and more. Never hesitate to reach out. I don't bite unless agitated.

Thank you all and welcome to my realm of madness.

[halevetica]

Promise(Sterek)

Here is the Sterek Christmas Oneshot I promised. I had equal interest in the airport idea and also the ski lodge idea. If I can find the time I may try and squeeze in the ski lodge idea, but no promises. Hope you like this one.

p.s I’m not good at fluff, so I apologize in advance.

"No please, you have to understand, I can't be delayed." Derek gripped the edge of the receptionists desk so hard his knuckles turned white.

"I'm sorry, sir, but all flights are delayed until the weather clears up," The blond behind the desk said, not looking up from her computer.

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"You're welcome to wait in our lounge area, or if you'd rather, there's a hotel about a mile down the road." She gestured to the small room where an older man was splayed out on a pleather recliner.

"I don't suppose you'd be paying for the hotel," Derek clenched his jaw as the man snored out loudly. He sounded like a feral bear.

The blond finally looked up with a pinched smile. "Unfortunately we can't be held accountable for weather conditions and as such your accommodations aren't covered. But you're welcome to take advantage of our lounge area." She once again gestured to the snoring man.

Derek rolled his eyes as he turned away from the desk.

"Typical, huh?" A  brunette man, sitting in a nearby seat, asked.

Derek scoffed. "Yeah." He started towards the sleeping man.

"I'd maybe skip staying in there, he's also gassy." The brunette offered.

Derek's shoulders fell. "Great. And I have to tell my sisters I'll be late to Christmas."

"I know the feeling. I had to tell my dad."

Derek took a seat across from the brunette man. "Instead we get to spend Christmas eve with strangers in an airport."

"Stiles," the man stuck his hand out.

"Derek."

"At least it's not crowded. Perks of a late night flight." Stiles gestured to the barren airport.

"Is anything still open?" Derek asked, glancing around for a bar.

"A few places. Care to wander?" Stiles asked.

Derek was about to politely decline, but the last week with Erica gave him pause. He had promised her he would be better. Better about coming around. Better about not shutting everyone out. He was stuck in this airport for the foreseeable future, he might as well make the most of it.

"Why not?" Derek huffed setting his bag down on the chair.

Stiles set his bag and pillow next to Derek's stuff.

"There was a restaurant down that way that was open a little while ago, if you're hungry."

Derek gestured for Stiles to lead the way.

After being seated with two Reuben sandwiches in front of them, Stiles asked, "So where you headed?"

"California." Derek answered around a bite of food.

"No kidding, same here. Beacon Hills, you know it?" Stiles asked.

Derek raised a brow. "I do actually. I grew up there."

"Whoa, seriously? Same."

Derek narrowed his eyes. What were the chances that two people in a New York airport where going to the same small town in California?

"What are you doing in New York?" he asked.

"Work. I work with the FBI. We get pulled all over sometimes. What about you?"

Derek had not pegged this guy as FBI. "Just visiting a friend. I lived here for a while before moving back home."

"What part?" Stiles pressed eagerly.

Derek, not one for small talk, did his best to remain patient. Stiles was just being friendly. "City."

"Nice. A lot different from the little ol' town of Beacon Hills huh?"

"A lot."

"So how'd you end up on such a late flight?"

Derek swallowed his bite of sandwich with a sigh. "My friend was in an accident. I was staying to help out for a bit."

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that." Stiles frowned.

"She's okay."

A silence fell over the pair and Derek was thankful.

"This is gonna be a long night." Stiles pushed away his empty plate.

"Unfortunately. But you know what helps?" Derek gestured to the small bar across the hall. A drink or two always calmed his nerves, and right now he was in need of some calming.

Stiles grinned. "I like the way you think."

-

With an arm full of mini bottles, Derek and Stiles made their way back to their stuff before setting up in a far corner away from the still snoring man.

"Okay, so lets make this fun. We have to tell a truth and a lie about ourselves and the person has to guess which is which. If they get it wrong they drink. If they get it right, the other person drinks."

Derek scoffed a laugh. "Learn that at a work Christmas party?"

"Maybe," Stiles laughed. "Okay, you first." he pushed a mini bottle of gin towards Derek as he grabbed a rum for himself.

"Okay, I'm the only boy of five siblings or I'm the middle child." Derek leaned back against the wall.

"Hmmm, you don't really give off middle child vibes but you only mentioned sisters and I could see you being the only boy, but five siblings with only one boy is statistically rare, but not unheard of." Stiles pondered. "Middle child is the truth."

Derek's brows shot up. "Whoa, yeah."

Stiles gave a fist pump before gesturing to the gin. "Drink."

Derek tipped back the bottle, taking a long swig. He coughed as the liquid burned his throat. "Alright your turn."

"I'm an only child, or I'm adopted."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Those are so very specific. I'll say you're adopted is true."

"Ooh, wrong answer, drink." Stiles grinned widely.

"Okay, okay," Derek said determinedly as he wiped the gin from his lips after another long swig. "I hate the color blue, or I'm allergic to pineapple."

Stiles laughed, "You don't hate the color blue."

Derek gave Stiles a bewildered look. "How can you possibly know that?"

"Dude, you're wearing a blue shirt and your carry on bag is blue."

Derek sighed as he downed the last of the tiny gin.

"Alright." Stiles grinned. "The mets are my favorite team or the mets are my least favorite team."

Derek narrowed his eyes. "I'm gonna say they're your favorite because if they're not, you're wrong."

Stiles lit up. "Hell yeah, dude." He twisted off the cap of his rum and took a swig.

An hour and four mini bottles later Derek was well past tipsy.

"How are you so good at this?" He huffed tossing aside his newly emptied bottle of vodka.

"You want to know my secret?" Stiles grinned, taking a voluntary sip of his whiskey.

"Yeah, there's no way you guessed that I played basketball in high school."

"I'm a profiler at the FBI. It's my job to read people. I learned your tell on the first question." Stiles smirked up at Derek, hoping he wouldn't be mad.

Derek leaned back, an impressed look on his face. "So you profiled me, huh?"

"Not exactly. I just read your body language and payed attention to things that you said previously."

Derek studied Stiles for a long moment. "So what's my tell?"

"Your eyebrows. You're very expressive with them. Which is actually a funny thought because if it weren't for them, you have a great poker face." Stiles tipped back the last of his whiskey, tossing the now empty bottle with the others.

"Alright, well, congrats. You've gotten me sufficiently intoxicated. What now?" Derek crossed his arms over his chest as if he were accusing Stiles.

"Well now." Stiles lifted his watch. "We have about thirty minutes until it's officially Christmas. What do you say we do a little gift exchange? There's a twenty four hour gift shop I saw on my way in. We each get fifteen minutes to go in and find a small gift and then we have to wrap it and meet at the tree at twelve-thirty."

Derek let out a laugh. This was not something he would normally agree to. "You know what, Stiles? I think that sounds like fun." Maybe he could send a picture to Erica as proof of his promise.

"Here." Stiles handed over his phone. "Put your number in here and when you're done in the gift shop, text me."

Derek took Stiles phone and typed in his number.

Stiles bit down on his bottom lip. Sure it wasn't the most conventional way of getting a hot guy's number, but it worked.

Derek handed back Stiles' phone.

"And now you have mine." Stiles said as he sent a text to Derek's number.

Derek's phone chimed as if in agreement. He looked down at the winky face Stiles sent.

"Good luck." Stiles leaned back as he watched Derek disappear down the hall.

Derek reached the small gift shop. There wasn't a single person in sight, but the lights were on. A small self checkout register was on the far right of the store.

"Clever," Derek muttered to himself as he scanned the store. He barely knew Stiles. What could be possibly get him? He had fifteen minutes to pick something. He stared at the key chains and tacky baseball caps. He lifted a snow globe and gave it a gentle shake. Snow swirled around the tiny city inside.

Derek sighed. He wasn't a good gift giver. He never had been. And now he was limited to a New York themed store the size of his apartment.

He continued to scan the aisles until he reached a small mets section. There were key chains with letters engraved on the back. He reached for the 'S' but paused. Maybe he'd get him one to remember him by. Stiles had taken a shitty situation and made it actually a lot of fun. This would be a memory he'd carry with him forever. He grabbed a key chain with the letter 'D' and started for the checkout. It felt cheap getting him a small key chain. Maybe he'd get him something else too. He scanned the nearby wall of coffee mugs. Stiles had mentioned being a huge coffee drinker. It had been one of the truths in their game.

He lifted one and grinned. 'Sarcasm, just another service I offer' it read.

Satisfied with his finds he headed to the self checkout.

"And with five minutes to spare," he said proudly to himself as he checked the time.

He sent Stiles a quick message before heading for the bathroom. He didn't know what to wrap the gifts in so he would be resourceful. Paper towels would have to do.

He set the gifts on a small bench near the door of the bathroom.

"Shit," he huffed when he saw hand dryers in place of paper towel dispensers. He glanced at one of the stalls.

"Sorry Stiles," Derek whispered as he grabbed a brand new roll of toilet paper. The bathroom had been recently stocked it looked like.

"No tape," Derek groaned as he sat down next to the gifts. His intoxicated brain suggested gum before he quickly discarded the idea.

"I can wrap it like I did Cora's arm when she cut it open that one time." He started to wrap the toilet paper awkwardly around the cup.

He was glad for the extra time, because this would take a while.

-

At twelve-thirty Stiles bounced anxiously with his gift bag to the large Christmas tree the airport had set up. It was decorated in gold and silver ornaments.

"I apologize in advance," Derek said, pulling Stiles' attention from the tree.

"Why?" Stiles frowned. Derek had his arms held behind his back.

"Where'd you get the gift bag?" Derek asked, staring at the 'I love New York' bag in Stiles' hand.

"The gift shop."

Stiles noted the small pink that warmed Derek's ears.

"Why? What did you—" he cut himself off with a bubble of laughter as Derek presented a mummy wrapped gift.

"May I remind you that I have about three mini bottles of alcohol in my system and it's after midnight."

Stiles handed Derek his gift as he took his own toilet papered gift. "Merry Christmas, Derek."

Derek smiled at Stiles. "Merry Christmas."

"Shall we?" Stiles lifted the obvious mug in his hand.

Derek pulled out a navy blue neck pillow as Stiles tore at the toilet paper.

"I was complaining about not having one of these," Derek laughed.

"This is the perfect coffee mug," Stiles grinned down at it.

"Thank you," They both said in unison.

"I actually have one more for you." Stiles bit down on his bottom lip.

"Me too."

Derek pulled another toilet paper wrapped bundle from his pocket as Stiles pulled a tissue paper wrapped bundle from his.

They were similar in size.

The pair tore open their tiny gifts to reveal identical key chains.

Derek and Stiles burst into laughter.

"'S' for Stiles." Derek looked down at his key chain.

"'D' for Derek." Stiles held his up next to Derek's to compare.

"I wanted you to have something to remember me by. I was just a stranger and you turned a shitty situation into…this." Derek shrugged.

"I wanted you to have something as well. A thank you for humoring me and my stupid little games. Not many people would have been so willing." Stiles ran his thumb over the 'D'.

"Honestly, I wouldn't have. But I've had a rough month and I made a promise to someone. I thought I was gonna lose my best friend. I got into a fight with my sister and then I got stuck at an airport on Christmas Eve. I don't know why I let you convince me to do any of this."

Stiles gave a sympathetic smile. "I'm sure the alcohol helped."

Derek frowned down at the gifts in his hands. Stiles had no idea how much this night meant to him. It had been a long time since he'd had this much fun. "Will you take a picture with me?"

Stiles' brows raised in surprise.

"I promised a friend of mine I'd be more adventurous. Figured I'd send her proof."

"If exchanging Christmas gifts with a stranger in an airport is your idea of adventurous, you are in desperate need of fun." Stiles laughed as he stepped up next to Stiles.

"You're not wrong," Derek agreed quietly as he lifted his phone.

Stiles gave a wide grin and Derek couldn't help but give one himself before clicking the picture.

"This friend. She the one that was in the accident?"

Derek nodded as he looked down at the picture. The large glowing Christmas tree behind them hid the fact that they were in an airport. He sent the picture to Erica with a comment that said, keeping my promise.

"It's getting late, we should probably get some sleep before tomorrow. I have a feeling it's going to be a long one." Stiles yawned.

The pair reached their corner when the blond from the desk approached them.

"Your flights are due to depart at six in the morning. Here are your new tickets." She handed Stiles and Derek each a new ticket.

"Thank you." Stiles stared down at the paper. He wanted to be more excited, but that meant he'd be leaving Derek.

Stiles laid out his pillow and offered half to Derek.

"We can share my blanket since you came woefully unprepared."

Derek hesitated for a brief moment before sliding in next to Stiles. He was beyond exhausted and Stiles blanket looked comfortable. "Thank you," He said.

The pair laid back to back under the soft blanket.

Derek thumbed the key chain Stiles had given him. He didn't remember the last time he had this much fun.

'Not since Mom and Dad died.' he could hear Laura say.

It had been a rough year without them. A month before Christmas last year had been the day they died. Derek didn't even bother showing up to Christmas. This year he promised. Until Erica had gotten into the car accident. It was touch and go while in the hospital and Derek flew out immediately. He'd told Laura not to expect him for Christmas, even once Erica was out of the hospital and on the mend. She was the only reason he was in this airport trying to catch a flight out so late on Christmas Eve.

"You have to promise me that you'll be better, Derek," Erica's hand was clasped in his. "It shouldn't have taken a car accident to get you out here to see me."

"I know," Derek agreed.

"It's been over a year."

"I know." He bowed his head.

"Promise me you'll try. Promise me you'll let yourself be happy."

Derek only nodded.

"Promise me you'll take chances. Do fun things. Find adventure."

Derek nodded.

"Promise me, Derek." Erica squeezed his hand.

Derek looked up, finally meeting Erica's eyes. "I promise."

"And promise me you'll spend Christmas with your sisters."

"But—"

"Promise me."

Derek let out a sigh. "I promise."

He had arrived at the airport bitter and tired and now he laid here feeling light and while still tired, it wasn't a bone tired like he'd felt the passed year. He was just sleepy.

He closed his eyes, clutching the key chain in his hand.

-

The morning light was blinding as it bounced off the snowy ground and through the large windows.

Derek woke with Stiles curled around him. Derek wanted to pull away but it had been a long time since he'd been held like this. It felt nice.

He checked the time to see that their flight would be leaving soon.

He shifted gently, trying to pull from Stiles' without waking him.

"Oh, sorry, dude," Stiles mumbled, pulling away from Derek quickly.

"It's okay," Derek sat up and yawned. He tried not to stare as Stiles stretched, his shirt rising slightly to show his waist.

"All passengers boarding flight 204 will be departing in thirty minutes." The announcer came over the airport speaker.

"That's us." Stiles yawned, pulling himself to his feet.

Derek and Stiles took time to wake up and call their families to update them before boarding the plane together.

It wasn't a short flight. Roughly six hours, but it flew by for Stiles and Derek. They exchanged stories and facts all the way to California.

A quiet fell over them as they made their way through the airport to claim their luggage.

"I really can't thank you enough," Derek said, when he and Stiles had gathered their bags.

"No need. I had a lot of fun too." Stiles bit down on his bottom lip.

Derek stared down at his buzzing phone. "My sisters are here. So I guess this is goodbye."

"Yeah, my dad's outside."

"Right." Derek hesitated.

"You have my number, feel free to use it." Stiles offered shyly.

Derek nodded.

Stiles bit down on his bottom lip before reaching forward and placing a kiss to Stiles' cheek. "Thanks again for humoring me."

"Thank you, I really did have fun."

"Tell Erica that I hope she's better soon."

Derek didn't know if it was possible to fall in love in one night. Before last night he would have said no. But now as he watched Stiles turn away, he was almost certain it was.

-

"You're awfully quiet, son," Noah Stilinski asked his son as he poured him a cup of coffee.

"Just tired," Stiles lied. He held the mug Derek had given him between his hands as his dad filled it. He wondered if he'd ever see Derek again. Based on what little he knew, Derek was a shy type, not one to make friends.

As if answering his question, Stiles' phone pinged. He opened it to see a picture of him and Derek in front of the Christmas tree.

"Thought you'd want a copy."

Stiles couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips.

He snapped a picture of his coffee mug full of coffee.

"Already being put to good use."

As the day went on, they continued to send pictures back and forth.

Derek sent a picture of a bottle of gin with a truth and a lie.

Stiles got it right.

Stiles sent a picture of toilet paper with no comment.

Back and forth they sent them, until the sun was well past set.

Finally at midnight Stiles got another picture from Derek.

It was the large tree that sat downtown.

"Meet me at twelve thirty?"

Stiles' heart raced as he sent a confirmation.

-

Derek stood in front of the tree that sat in downtown Beacon Hills. It was taller than the one in the airport, though it had more color. Instead of gold and silver it was decorated in greens and reds and blues.

"Hey stranger," Stiles said, causing Derek to turn.

Derek pulled in a breath. Stiles looked stunning. His whiskey colored eyes danced in the glow of the tree.

"Hey." Derek swallowed.

"I'll be honest I didn't expect this." Stiles stepped closer to Derek, shoving his hands into his pockets, it wasn't as cold as New York but there was still a chill in the air.

"This isn't something I would normally do." Derek shrugged.

"Your promise I'm guessing?"

Derek frowned. "Actually it was something you said."

Stiles raised a curious brow.

"You were right. Exchanging gifts with a stranger in an airport isn't exactly adventurous. So I was trying to think of things that were."

"Oh?"

"I thought what if I invited the stranger out on a date?" Derek eyed Stiles carefully.

Stiles pursed his lips to hold back a smile. "Is that what this is?"

"I guess that depends on you," Derek had been nauseous before, he'd had food poisoning and the flu, but nothing compared to the rolling in his gut now as he waited for Stiles' answer.

"I think it's a romantic gesture. It mirrors our meeting at the tree in the airport." Stiles smiled, stepping forward. "It's a great first date."

A breathe punched out of Derek's chest.

"Did you think I was going to say no?" Stiles teased, taking another step forward.

"Like I said, this isn't something I typically do."

Stiles reached out and ran a gentle hand down Derek's arm. "You're doing great."

Derek's cheeks turned a shade of scarlet as he cleared his throat.

Stiles dropped his arm with a frown. "What's wrong?"

Derek laughed. "Right. I forgot you can read my body language."

"Habit, sorry."

"No it's okay, I just…" Derek ran a hand along the back of his neck. "I uh…I'm not good at this, but I wanted to give you one more gift."

Stiles grinned. "Oh yeah?" he noted the lack of present on Derek's person.

Derek stepped forward and gently dipped in for a kiss.

His lips met Stiles gently. His hand came up to cup his jaw.

Stiles leaned into the kiss, but it was over just as quickly as it'd started.

"You're so cheesy," Stiles laughed.

Derek's ears were bright pink. "Erica told me I should do it."

"She was right. And I think you should do it again." Stiles leaned in this time, connecting their lips.

This kiss lasted longer, there was more movement, and gentle touches of tongue as the kissed deepened.

When they finally parted, Stiles breathed out a laugh. "That, Derek Hale was very adventurous of you."

Derek grinned, his hands finding Stiles'. He was glad that he had made Erica that promise, and he was glad he kept it.

Consider buying me a coffee, I would really appreciate it!

[where-is-francis]

Dating Yelena Headcanons

Rules/Before You Like

Pronouns: Not Specified (NSFW stuff is left very very vague) 18+ ONLY

Request: No

A/N: HOW COULD YOU NOT LOVE HER UGH SHE’S SO CUTE. Also this has been in my drafts for so long, I just needed to post it. Blank blogs will be blocked if found interacting with this post. This post contains discussions of adult themes under the cut.

TW: None really, for the first two parts. NSFW-esque HCs below the cut; includes mentions of BDSM, healthy and calm communication during experimentation, etc.

How you met:

You had one of the most cliche ‘New York blossoming 20-somethings romcom plot’ type encounter

After the incident on Christmas, Yelena decided to stay in New York for a bit

Although there were still Widows that needed saved, the majority of the chunk had been helped during The Blip

The remaining ones that were blipped, like herself, were being helped by the others

She had no idea what to do with her time off

First things first, she went to all of the tourist attractions — Statue of Liberty, Rockefeller, Central Park, etc.

While on her walk back to the apartment she was crashing at — a fellow Widow she just freed — a certain smell caught her attention

It was a small bakery with all kinds of pastries

As soon as she stepped in, it was like a kid in a candy shop

You were on a coffee run and decided to get a sandwich, so you stood waiting in line

New York was filled with interesting people, but the blonde had something different about her

It started when she asked what you ordered — you explained the personalized menu item that had become your favorite

Once your food and drink were ready, you sat at one of the smaller tables

However, it was hard not to notice a certain Russian girl as she peered over the menu, carefully watching you from a few rows away

God, she had no idea how to approach you

When your food was nearly finished, you were startled when a menu was moved from your table

“You seem like a normal New Yorker. You live here, yes?”

“Yeah, I do. Um, thank you—?”

“I need to do fun things while I am here. I have seen the statue, I walked through the park, I saw the old Avengers tower, and Times Square.”

It was hard not to smile at her

You used the moment to finally get a good look at her — considering all of the staring she did at you

“Well, have you been to Chinatown? Or Little Italy? I know this really nice restaurant not too far—”

“Great! I will grab my bag and you will show me.”

Needless to say, you were taken aback — but you couldn’t tell her no

When you started dating:

Yelena was so excited

Due to her past, she never got to have real relationships, be it romantic or platonic

So when she was able to room with a few Widows and live in NYC, she was ecstatic

Although you loved your home, it was nice to have somebody who wasn’t used to everything

The way her eyes lit up when you went somewhere new, especially for a date, was incredible

“I feel like I am in Sex and The City — Natasha never told me how fun it is here!”

At some point she gets really into photography; which you encourage, considering she didn’t have any hobbies before

Her name is “Yelena Beloved” in your contacts

Oh my god, she finds it so cute and gushes to the Widows

“Ah, I see what you did there! Funny joke on my name, I love it!”

Quite literally anything you do is worthy of her gushing

Her trust issues didn’t go away overnight — she’s a trained assassin — but there’s something about her personality that kept you intrigued

She’s very communicative, though, and it helps

You became the one person she felt like she could tell everything to

That being said, she can’t keep a secret from you

If she gets you something as a surprise, you immediately know

She grins and bites her lip and just looks at you, trying to refrain from spoiling it

It’s adorable to you, so you go along with it

“Can we get a dog?” “What?” “Kate Bishop has a dog, he is very fluffy. I think we need a fluffy dog.”

She loved Lucky so much and would spend time sending you memes or pictures of dogs, trying to convince you

Her hot sauce addiction

Two full rows in the fridge door

Just for hot sauce

If you weren’t able to handle the heat before, you definitely can now, considering she puts it on everything

Her favorite thing to do after dinner is listen to music and cuddle with you

If your hair is long enough, she likes to add matching little braids in it when she does her own hair

If you have short or no hair, she’ll let you practice on her and make cute styles

Usually, she tells you about Nat or when they lived in Ohio as you just lay on the couch

It’s nice to hear her reminisce on the good times

SLIGHT NSFW:

Yelena is very big on experimentation, whether it be kinks, adding people, moves, etc.

She’s pretty fluid as well, but doesn’t really label herself or who she’s attracted to

Getting into the BDSM community was a good outlet for you two

It lets her relax and focus on the present moment, where she’s safe

Granted, there are very passionate and heated sessions, but practicing is more calm

If you dom: she’s pleased, and enjoys your attitude

It’s firm, but still caring

She also loves to tease you and battle for dominance

Putting up a fight — whether she wants to win or not — is a common occurance

If she doms: she’s very big on teasing (shocker) and can be mean, but in the best way possible

Not all of your encounters are like that, though, some are just regular people having moments

But things like bondage provide the outlet and experimentation

Letting you tie her up was a big deal; it was one of the first big steps in being vulnerable with you

Now she’s hooked on it

Her aftercare is very specific; you two calm down and then she immediately starts cracking jokes again

She always makes sure to tell you how she felt about things afterwards, and it makes you happy

“Oh trust me, I will be rougher next time.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Like my stuff? Let me know! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, as it helps others find my stuff. Check out my blog for more.

[bluberrypancakes]

Hello everyone, for my first post here is a situation with the trio of sunny day jack! (thanks to my girlfriend for giving me this theme by the way) 🌈✨

Situation: you are outside at the park with one of the guys, and you see a cotton candy stand, so he offers you to come and choose your favorite perfume, he will choose for him....

Jack: blueberry or raspberry

<<A {blueberry/raspberry} cotton candy please!>>

You look at Jack who is enthusiastic, looks like a child very happy to receive his Christmas or birthday present

<<I have always loved cotton candy, but if there is this choice I was not going to be deprived of it!>>

Jack often chooses things that remind him of his childhood where he spends time marking colors, taste and smell, but touch is very important to him.

He wants a sense of comfort and nostalgia

He starts eating his cotton candy while you eat yours calmly

Obviously that and the opportunity for him to get closer to you and make you taste his and vice versa and you spend the end of your afternoon in the park by finishing enjoying this precious moment 🌈

Shaun: exotic fruit or caramel

<<Wow, bro look there are so many flavors>>

Shaun looks at the flavors but makes his choice pretty quickly

<<{exotic fruit/caramel} flavor please>>

It surprises you a little coming from him but at the same time not too much, Shaun and you have been best friends for a while now so you start to read it like a book

Shaun has always been someone who puts you at ease and who you can trust, if something is bothering you or else will is always there he is your confidant

<<Wow it's classy, ​​look at the colors>>

Very happy Shaun starts eating his cotton candy but you can't help but bite a bit too (and to annoy him ahim a little too hehe)

<<EH IT'S MINE, NOT TOUCH->>

You laugh a little while Shaun has a head like an angry cat, but it doesn't last long because to make you forgive you let him eat yours too 🐱

Ian: cherry or vanilla

<<A cotton candy {cherry/vanilla} please>>

Ian has a lot of trouble asking strangers or talking to people in general for this kind of thing, but he's starting to change and dare, it's a bit thanks to you, moreover, and you're very sorry about it. grateful

<<I hope I will be able to eat everything>>

Of course, you say

Moreover, this perfume that he chose corresponds to his reserved type personality but who remains passionate about what he likes but also that it corresponds to this so calm and poetic side of him.

You've known Ian for a long time and you've seen him grow and evolve alongside you, you care a lot about him and you'll do anything to change any of this.

<<Hm that's good>>, he said smiling

Of course, you took a good perfume after all

After that you finish eating and stay at the park to enjoy this moment together 🍃

[spaceorphan18]

Scenes from December (23/24)

Klaine Advent Day Twenty-Three : Mistake

****

December, 2082

Lily Anvery was having a day.  The snow had made her late to a job she’d only had for a week, she tripped over the cord connected to the Christmas tree lights, nearly toppling the Christmas tree in the lobby over, and now as she tried to help the senior citizens with their lunches, she had to deal with the one ornery man who seemed to make her life difficult every time she came in. 

“What do you mean there isn’t any cheesecake left?” Mr. Hummel may have been thin and frail looking but oh god did he have a bite when he spoke.  Those icy blue eyes bored holes into her.  

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hummel,” Lily responded - offering as much sympathy as she could muster.  “It’s not on the menu today.” 

“Well, it’s been on the menu for five years,” he shot back.  “And now you’re telling me I can’t have it.” 

Lily shrugged helplessly, not sure what to say.  “It figures that in a place that does not know how to properly make roast chicken - even though I have countlessly tried to tell you people the correct way, would take away the one thing that was actually worth eating here,” Mr. Hummel continued to rant.  “Don’t you think I wish I could cook for myself? I can barely see a foot in front of me anymore, so god forbid I turn on the stove and accidentally blow this whole god forsaken place up.  At least it would be warm for once.  Why is it that this whole place is cold all the time? You take enough money from me that you can pay the damn heating bill.” 

Lily breathed heavily.  “Mr. Hummel, if there’s a problem with your heating - we’d be happy to take a look--” 

“Don’t bother - and give me my mashed potatoes.  I’m sure you guys can at least get the potatoes correct.” 

Conjuring all her training in how to be civilized and helpful, Lily assisted Mr. Hummel to his table.  He fussed a bit more about napkins and cheap silverware and after another five minutes of enduring his complaining, she was able to slip away into the back. 

“Maybe it was a mistake for me to work here,” she told her supervisor, Marissa.  “ I just wanted to help people.  And all they seem to do is yell in my face.” 

Marissa, who had an eternal sunny outlook on life, one that Lily wished she could muster to the same extent, smiled friendly as she dispensed advice.  “You’re doing great.  Just stick with it a little while longer.  They’re not all bad, and I like to think most of them appreciate us.” 

“Well, I doubt Mr. Hummel appreciates anything.” She peered out the doorway into the dining room, watching Mr. Hummel in the distance as he sat at his table alone, slowly eating the potatoes with a frown on his face.   

“You’ll have to give Mr. Hummel a break,” Marissa said as she looked over Lily’s shoulder.  “His spouse of, like, seventy years recently passed away.”  

“How did his wife tolerate him for seventy years, my god?” 

“Husband,” Marissa corrected.  “And, oh, Mr. Anderson was the sweetest thing.  Always used to wear bowties to dinner and had a smile for everyone.  No one used to calm Mr. Hummel down like he did.” 

“Do you know any magic spells that can bring him back to life?” Lily huffed.  “Because I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” 

Marissa waved it off as if it was no big deal.  “Oh, he’s not so bad.  You just have to have the right touch.  Why don’t you try talking to him -- let him know I’m calling his daughter to bring some cheesecake on her next visit.” 

Lily nodded, and despite her hesitation, returned back to the dining room.  She made her way around the room, chatting politely with some of the other residents before heading towards Mr. Hummel’s table.  By the time she arrived, he had finished his meal and remained pensively staring out the window.  

“Mr. Hummel?” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.  He only let out a grunt in reply.  “I went and checked -- unfortunately, we’re out of cheesecake for the next week, but Marissa said she’d ask your daughter to bring some on her next visit.” 

“Yes, let your inadequacy become my family’s burden,” he snapped at her.  

Lily felt her anger rise, but shoved it back down.  She would not let him get the best of her.  Taking her lead from Marissa, she instead sat down at the table next to him, and looked out into the snowy woods with him.  

“Marissa said you were married for nearly seventy years?”

“Yes.” His voice was sharp and pointed. 

“That’s kind of amazing,” she pushed through.  “What was he like?” 

A shift came over Mr. Hummel’s face.  The anger that had been there seemed to dissipate and his whole demeanor softened.  “Blaine was…” he trailed off, and for a moment, Lily wondered if she had pushed too far.  But Mr. Hummel was not irritated by the request, just lost in thought for a moment. His voice changed into something gentler as he spoke.  “He was the sweetest person you could know.  His eyebrows were ridiculous.  And he used to steal my clothes - even though they were too big on him.  But he was the best partner anyone could have ever asked for.” 

“He sounds lovely,” Lily said - amazed at Mr. Hummel’s transformation.  “Would you like to tell me more?” 

He nodded slowly.  “Sometimes, in the winter, when we went back to Ohio, we’d ice skate on the river near his house.  We’d ice skate here, too, from time to time, but there was a sense of adventure then - it was a real river out in the woods.  We’d stay out there for hours.  I wasn’t that great at skating - he wasn’t that much better, but we’d help each other along.  I used to get so cold, and always ended up falling in the snow.  He was like a furnace -- always radiating heat.  Winter wasn’t so bad when he was around.  Always made me feel warm.” 

Oh! Oh. Something in Lily clicked - and she got it.  

“You know, my grandmother knits - and is always looking for a new project,” she offered.  “Maybe she could knit you a nice throw.” 

Mr. Hummel tilted his head away, taking a long moment to consider.  “Could she incorporate a few old bow ties into it?” 

“Of course she could.” 

“Well, then.  I would like that.  And tell my daughter I want the raspberry cheesecake - not the cheap kind.”

Lily let out a laugh.  “No problem, Mr. Hummel.”  

[earthlyyan]

Dinner Parties (Platonic Yan! Ferid x Livestock Reader)

Note: This takes place before Christmas Eve of 2012, So the reader has taken the role of a provider to certain vampires before they have more humans at their disposal

TAGS: Ferid being affectionate but in a creepy master/prey type of way, drug induced compliance (venom), vampires being creepy and seeing the reader as some sort of pet, Implied kidnapping, slight violence if you squint

Word Count: 1300

Inspired by Kikuo’s Cotton Candy

________________________________________________________________

Wrapped around your head like a thick fog, his venom stayed.

There was an odd comfort in it. Not having to confront your situation. Not having to think about the people surrounding you in your vulnerable state.

So many people…

Ferid’s hand ran circles on your back, the only think keeping you grounded to the situation. You held onto his coat, scared that if you let go, you’d fall into nothingness. You’d fall and fall and fall. Your knuckles white with the sheer grip you were holding onto him with.

*

These parties were monthly, and yet every time, you dreaded them. You’d try and run away from Ferid when he would tell you, you’d try to find the darkest, most cramped corner to hide away in.

“Oh my Dear Lamb, I’m sorry, I really am.” You’d hear his voice call from down the hall as he walked slowly, opening cupboards, and peering under tables. He knew where you were, he always did, and yet he’d play along. “But you know it has to be this way. Yet you insist on playing this game whenever I tell you.” He sighed; his footsteps drew closer. “You always end up enjoying yourself by the end of it, so why must you resist me so?”

You drew your knees closer to your chest. You didn’t like enjoying it. You didn’t like the way your body got to be like that. All lightheaded and warm, the venom of so many vampires pumping through your veins. It was wrong. You felt wrong. So you hid.

“You know I’ll reward you, Dear.” He mused. His voice was louder now. “You’ll get such a nice treat afterwards.”

A hand grabbed your ankle.

“So please, come out.” *

Your foggy brain counted ten before losing track. There were at least ten people with you in this room, not counting Ferid. They were dressed in varying shades of white. No matter how many times you saw the same people, you never remembered their names. But they remembered you. They always remembered you. You were one of the few humans they had the luxury of partaking in.

This part of the night was always the hardest. The way they all looked at you while you clung to Ferid’s coat, sipping on a glass of cranberry juice.

“One of these days you’ll have trained them well enough so that you won’t have to bite them beforehand, Lord Ferid.”

You looked away, embarrassed.

Sometimes, they’d ask you things, small mundane things about your life with Ferid, about the books you’d read, or the foods you’d eat.

Other times they’d talk about you like you couldn’t hear them. The way they’d look at you was different as well, less patronizing, more predatory. Lord Ferid would never let them insult you, though. He’d cover your ears to the particularly hurtful comments and assure you that you were perfect the way you were.

It would be nice if the situation were any different.

Lord Ferid would always give you a glass of cranberry juice before and after these sessions, even if it meant tipping the glass to your lips himself. You remember him saying it would help with your blood loss. But you were always too out of it to notice any difference.

You looked at the clock.

Two minutes ‘till nine. Two minutes for your body to prepare itself before having several holes poked in it.

You shuddered.

Lord Ferid crouched down to be able to see your face clearly. Your eyes were dilated due to the small amount of his venom running through you. It was never enough to calm your nerves entirely. Just enough to stop you from having an attack of some sort.

His hands cupped your face tenderly, a small, gentle smile graced his face before he leaned in close to whisper to you.

“You know the drill by now, my dear.” He said. His breath was cold against your ear. “You’ll behave yourself, won't you?”

“Please don’t make me.” You whispered. “I know you said it won’t be for much longer but…”

He pressed a finger to your lips and made a soft shushing sound with his lips. “You know I can’t back out now.” He said. “You’re stronger than the others. That’s why you’ve made it this far.”

‘That’s how you’re still alive’ Remained unsaid.

“So be good for me, okay?” He ruffled your hair and straightened to face his audience.

The clock chimed nine.

You tried not to cry as Ferid’s once reassuring grip turned firm to keep you from trying to flee.

“No more than a minute each, remember.” He called out. “You do not want to kill the poor thing. Not until our human friends above decide to finish their plans.”

He walked you forward and gave you a gentle shove into the crowd. You went to look at him for reassurance to find him gone, vanished into the sea of people.

* The next part of the night was always a blur of sensations. Pain and pleasure and hot and cold. Sometimes they’d say things to you before biting into you. But you could never make out what exactly they were saying.

The others would look at you with predatory gazes while they waited their turns. Sometimes they’d hold you upright or hold your hand for reassurance. Others would laugh at your pathetic state and scratch you with their sharp nails. The pain would keep you hanging to consciousness no matter how desperately you wanted to slip away into the warm embrace of sleep.

Ferid had one condition for his friends during these parties, and it was to keep you awake.

Maybe it had to be with making sure you didn’t die. Or maybe it was to try and prolong the fun the others could have before reluctantly retiring you to your Master. You were never awake enough to give it much thought.

Your head was fuzzy and wrapped in cotton. Your mouth making small nonsensical sounds and words as you tried to tell them that you couldn’t take anymore. Your head was full of different feelings, clashing and fighting one another, all foreign and unwelcome.

The crowd began to part as Ferid made his way to your limp form. “Oh you sweet, little thing.” He cooed, picking you up with ease. He placed a chaste kiss to your forehead as you tried fruitlessly to grab onto him to ground your spinning world. “You did so well.”

His praise made your heart swell.  

“… hurts…” You whined and tucked your head into his chest. “I know, dearest.” He took you up the stairs and into his chambers. His bed swallowed you whole. He left you for a moment before returning with the familiar maroon beverage. “Just one more thing and you can rest, alright?”

You couldn’t find the strength to resist as he set the bitter glass to your lips.

“Just a few more months.” He mused, gently tilting the cup upwards. “And you’ll be free of this responsibility.”

You obediently drank.

“You need to be a good lamb for me until then, yes?”

A small nod, another sip.

“I really do enjoy your company, you know. It’s quite fun having a human around that I don’t constantly have to quarrel with.” He sighed and removed the glass from your lips and placed it on his bedside table. “Though I wonder how the others will adjust to their new world. Will they be as accepting as you’ve been I wonder?” Ferid moved the covers aside and tucked you under the soft, heavy blankets. “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

Ferid rubbed your head affectionately before snuffing the candle on his bedside.

“Goodnight, my Little Lamb.”

You couldn’t muster the strength to reply.

[earliebirb]

nosedive

steve/tony, fluff, (newly) established relationship, 3250 words

Tony stares absentmindedly out the airplane window as he puts his phone up to his ear, watching people run back and forth, performing last-minute engine checks. Some of the guys look sweaty and out of breath.

From the comfort of the air-conditioned Stark Industries private jet, he feels a slight twinge of sympathy for the people having to suffer in the humid summer heat.

He loosens his tie and sinks deeply into his seat, closing his eyes with a massive yawn as he listens to the ringing tone. He hadn’t been able to sleep very well throughout his five-day stay in Tokyo, too anxious about the contract to rest properly. 

The ringing tone goes on for a few more seconds before ending with a click, replaced by an achingly familiar voice greeting him in his ear. 

“Hello?” 

Tony’s eyes spring open. Outside, an aircraft marshaller walks by, speaking rapidly into his walkie-talkie.

“I had a blueberry muffin for lunch today. One single blueberry muffin.”

“...What?”

“It didn’t even taste that good. I couldn’t finish it. Too dry.”

“Tony, that’s not good. Is that all you had for lunch? You should really eat—”

“The meeting went well, by the way. Mr. Watanabe finally signed the contract, everything went as planned. My ride to the airport, however…”

“I told you things would go smoothly, you had nothing to worry about. You’re a brilliant negotiator—”

“The traffic? Fuck. I had to keep shifting in my seat to avoid pins and needles.”

“That sounds awful, are your legs okay—”

“Did you know that Tokyo is number nineteen on the list of cities with the worst traffic congestion in the world? I know that, because I looked it up on the way to the airport. But boy, did it feel like it deserved the number one spot. I think I lost feeling in my ass.”

“I did not know that. And, uh, is your ass okay—”

“Thank God for my private jet. These plush seats are the best things I’ve ever spent my money on.”

“That’s objectively not true, and you know it—”

“Then again, I think these seats in particular were Pepper’s choice? We remodeled the airplane’s interior like… two years ago. I couldn’t be bothered to meet with the airplane seat people and I just told her to pick whichever looked best. I had much more important things to tend to, like sewing up the holes in JARVIS’s Christmas stocking.”

“I am concerned about how you sort your list of priorities—”

“Hm, that’s right. I think it was around two, three weeks before Christmas and I didn’t want JARVIS to be upset about the whole stocking thing, you know?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have—”

“Also, you’re right, the single blueberry muffin was a bad idea because now my stomach won’t shut up. So I’ve ordered some pasta for my in-flight meal. Robbie’s making it, you’ve met Robbie—”

“I’ve met Robbie, yes, he’s—”

“Larry’s replacement after he resigned. Gotta say, I was sad to see Larry go. Guy worked for me for seven years. But then there was that thing with his grandma, and he had to leave, so… But! Robbie makes a mean carbonara, maybe even better than Larry, don’t tell Larry I said that—”

“I don’t even know Larry like that, how would I—”

“Mr. Stark, we’re ready to go.” The pilot—Paul—emerges from the cockpit, staring at him in anticipation.

Tony nods and makes a few rapid gestures with his free hand that he supposes Paul is only able to interpret perfectly after years and years of working for Tony. The gestures roughly translate to something like “Copy, I hear you, just let me wrap this up and then I’ll let you know when I’m done. Capiche?”

Paul—bless him—just gives him a curt nod and retreats back into the cockpit. 

“Anyway,” Tony takes a deep breath and puffs his cheeks out with the exertion of his exhale, “I called because… I got a feeling, Steve.”

“A… feeling?”

“Just— A gut feeling. A feeling in your gut. Inside of me. Like a hunch?”

“Okay,” Steve says patiently, his voice low and warm, “what are you feeling?”

“I… got a bad feeling. Today. A few hours ago. The feeling came to me when I was sitting in traffic, and I just— I feel like something bad’s gonna happen today, Steve. I can feel it in the air. In my heart. In my gut. In my joints.”

“Your joints? Like… the feeling old people get when it’s about to rain?”

“Okay, maybe not in my joints. Also, are you calling me old, grandpa?”

“I did not, you told me you felt something in your—”

“Anyway, so yeah. Where was I? Oh, right. Feeling. Bad feeling. Like, like, I don’t know, something bad’s gonna happen. Like an accident. Like a plane crash.”

“God, please don’t say that. You’re scaring me, Tony.”

“And I guess, I just called because I… I feel like I need to do this before the plane crashes and I die a violent and fiery death.”

“Nothing bad’s going to happen, Tony—”

“Like, if I didn’t do this today, maybe I’d never get to do it, you know? And, uh, okay, I’ve honestly been ranting to stall for time, but the longer I keep it in the more nauseous I feel, so maybe I’m just gonna do it now so I can die in peace—”

“Do what? And stop saying that—”

“Look, I’m trying to be brave and honest here and— Wait, actually? Maybe I’m being a coward because if the plane actually does go down, I won’t have to face the consequences of my actions, so I guess I’m just going to say fuck it, and say that I love you.”

“The plane is not going to— Wait, what?”

“I, uh. Love you. I’ve known it for a while now. And, uh, I know we’ve only been dating for like, a week, but—” Tony blinks. They’ve only been dating for a week. 

“...Fuck.” Tony can feel his own pulse starting to race. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Tony?”

They’ve only been dating for a week. What is he doing? What the hell is wrong with him? Normal people don’t do this. 

“Fuck. Shit, I mean— Uh, I’m sorry. That was super weird, huh?” Tony laughs nervously. He closes his eyes, gritting his teeth and cursing his stupid brain. Of course it’s weird. He always gets too attached to people way too quickly. No wonder Pepper was his only long term relationship. She was the only person who could put up with him—everyone else just got weirded out. “Uh, see you tomorrow? Or not. Fuck, sorry, I’m just gonna hang up before this gets—”

“Tony, wait.”

“...Yeah?” Tony says, hyper-aware of how breathless he sounds. His heartbeat is ringing in his ears. Everything is going to be fine. Right? Right. The worst thing Steve could do is… break up with him.

Oh, God, that is the worst case scenario. He really should’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut. 

“Tony, are you freaking out? I feel like I can hear you freaking out from all the way over here.”

“No, I’m not, of course I’m not. Who says I’m freaking out? You have no proof. I am calm, I’m calm as a clam, is that the saying? Did I get it right? Or was it happy— Anyway, I am absolutely calm, I’m the calmest I could possibly be. Any calmer and I’d be asleep. I’m—”

“Tony. Breathe.”

Tony forces himself to drag in a slow breath as he grips the arm of his seat with his free hand, focusing on the soothing hum of the airplane’s engine.

“Look, Tony, I—”

“No, listen. I’m sorry I jumped the gun, I hope I haven’t weirded you out or anything. You really, really don’t have to say it back to me. I mean it.”

“Tony—”

“No, in fact— Please don’t say anything. It’s fine. Let’s just pretend this never happened, okay?”

“But—”

“Drop it, Steve. Please?” Tony pleads. Clearly, his brain hadn’t been firing on all cylinders. That is the only reason that could explain his temporary lapse of judgment. “Look, I feel like talking about it more right now is going to send me spiraling into a panic attack.”

“...Okay. Fine.”

“Thank you. Uh, I’ll see you when I get home. If I get home. If the plane doesn’t crash. Haha.”

“Would you please stop saying that? It’s not funny.”

Tony latches onto the change in topic like a lifeline. “It is objectively true, you know. In order for me to be able to see you tomorrow, the plane has to land safely, and unfortunately, some things are just beyond my control. Like, who’s to say the plane won’t explode mid-air and—”

“The plane is going to land safely and you’re going to come back home to me in one piece. This is non-negotiable, Tony. You hear me?” Steve demands, his voice all hard authority and no-nonsense, like there will be Consequences should Tony fail to comply. 

As if he could ensure Tony’s safety with the force of his willpower alone. 

Come back home to me. 

That sounds good. Really good. Tony closes his eyes and pictures Steve’s baby blues in his mind’s eye. Warmth flowers in his chest.

“I hear you.”

“Great.”

“Awesome. I, uh, I gotta go now.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

Tony hangs up and lets Paul know that he is done with his phone call. The jittery feeling left over from his call with Steve refuses to leave him, however, so he pulls up the drawing application on his phone and begins sketching something just to give his brain something else to fixate on.

He tends to lose track of time when he is hyperfocused on a project, so he isn’t exactly surprised that the next time he becomes aware of his surroundings, the plane is already well up in the air, his sketch of what looks like a flying coffee pot is almost finished, and Robbie is placing a plate of spaghetti carbonara on the table in front of him. 

“Spaghetti carbonara. With extra cheese.”

Tony’s mouth waters as he eyes the mountain of grated Pecorino Romano sitting atop the pasta. He sighs dreamily and smiles up at Robbie.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Enjoy, Boss.” Robbie grins and slips back into the kitchen.

He only realizes just how truly famished he is after taking his first bite, and proceeds to finish the rest of his meal with gusto. Afterward, he spends the majority of the remaining flight time sleeping, the result of post-carbonara food coma and his sleep-deprivation finally catching up to him. 

It’s well past two in the morning when Tony finally makes it to his floor in the Tower, which is why he is surprised to see Steve sitting on his couch, one of Tony’s fantasy novels open in hand. 

“Steve, what are you doing here?”

Steve’s head snaps up at the sound of his voice. Tony frowns. “Actually, why are you awake at all?” He is usually an early sleeper, unless—

“Nightmare?” Tony gives him a sympathetic smile. It wouldn’t be the first time. In the early days of their friendship, Tony and Steve would sit together in the living room whenever they had trouble sleeping, talking to each other until the sun came up.

Steve shakes his head, closing the book with his eyes still trained on Tony. “No, I was just… waiting for you.” Tony blinks. 

“It’s…” Tony glances at his watch. “Half past two. In the morning.”

“I know, I just…” Steve stands up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He ambles over before coming to a stop right in front of Tony. “I wanted to see you.”

Tony stares at him uncomprehendingly. “You’ll see me later anyway.”

“I couldn’t wait any longer. I didn’t want to go to sleep without seeing you first,” Steve says, low and earnest. His gaze wanders around Tony’s face, as if he were cataloguing each and every facial feature and trying to locate any changes he might’ve missed during his absence.

“Oh.”

Steve steps closer, arms snaking around Tony’s waist and pulling him close. His next words are whispered against Tony’s shoulder.

“I knew you’d make it home safely.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You were wrong.”

“I was… wrong.” Tony swallows. “Uh, turns out the bad feeling completely disappeared after I woke up from my nap on the plane, so I suspect that perhaps the bad feeling I got was due to my severe hunger and sleep deprivation. I mean, I’ve heard about hallucinations caused by hunger or exhaustion, but this was—” 

Steve presses a soft kiss to the column of Tony’s neck, effectively cutting off Tony’s ramblings.

“Tony,” Steve whispers against his skin.

“Yeah?” Tony squeaks.

“Please don’t call me before a flight and say that you think the plane is going to crash, ever again.”

“Right. Noted. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Steve says, pulling away slightly and loosening his hold around Tony.

Tony allows himself to relax, letting out a quiet sigh. This thing with Steve is so new and delicate that every single physical contact still sends his heart fluttering, butterflies going crazy in his stomach.

Which makes, in retrospect, his abrupt love confession—as truthful as it was—that much more insane. God, Stark. Never do that again.

Except, it turns out that Steve only pulled away to slide his hands down the back of Tony’s thighs, wrapping his hands around them, and then lifting him up without warning.

Tony yelps, and in his alarm, promptly locks his ankles around Steve’s waist. When Steve begins moving, Tony quickly wraps his arms around Steve, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder.

“Uh, Steve?”

“Hm?” Steve says, calm and nonchalant, as he begins walking away from the elevator. 

“Um— Wait— My suitcase—”

“Leave it. It’ll still be there in the morning.”

Tony blinks, staring dumbfoundedly at his lonely suitcase, abandoned by the elevator. It becomes smaller and smaller with every step Steve takes. 

“Where are we going?”

“Your bedroom.”

“Why are you carrying me there?”

“Because I want to.”

“You know it’ll be faster if you just let me walk, right?”

“Maybe. But you won’t be in my arms.”

“Um.”

“Bear with me, will you? I missed you.”

“I, uh, missed you too.”

Steve hums, satisfied. Tony lets himself settle more comfortably in Steve’s arms.

When Steve has successfully carried him to his bedroom, Tony fully expects Steve to deposit him on the bed. 

That is not, in fact, what happens. 

Instead, Steve turns around and begins walking backwards towards the bed before sitting down on it. Tony, still seated on his lap, swallows and pulls back slightly to look at Steve. 

“Look, Steve, as much as I’ve missed you, I’m kind of tired right now. I mean, don’t get me wrong. This whole carrying thing? Great. Very romantic. Ten out of ten. But I’m just not in the mood for sex, you know? Like, I’m not even sure I would be able to get it up if—”

“We’re not going to have sex.”

Tony blinks.

“We’re not?”

“We’re not. I’m just here to tuck you in.”

“Oh.”

Steve reaches up and begins undoing his tie. After setting it aside on the bed, he begins to unbutton Tony’s shirt. He takes his time, one button at a time.

“So…” Steve begins with a deep breath as he unbuttons the final button. “Did you mean, uh, what you said to me? On the phone?”

Tony closes his eyes, feels his own cheeks heating up. “Steve—”

“I’m sorry, Tony, I know you told me to drop it. But— I feel like if you did mean what you said, I owe it to you to… set the records straight.” When Tony opens his eyes again, Steve is looking up at him, blue eyes solemn.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… We have only been together for a week. Well, eight days. In fact, we’ve only been on one date. And it was interrupted. By giant lizards.” Steve chuckles incredulously. 

Tony remembers that day very well. They were in the middle of dessert at Tony’s favorite Italian place when they received the call to assemble—something about giant lizards wreaking havoc in Central Park.

The lizards had green, gunky blood that got into the nooks and crannies of the suit. It had taken forever to clean.

“But Tony…” Steve gathers the material of Tony’s unbuttoned shirt in both of his fists, pulling him closer until their noses are only inches apart.

The second their eyes meet, Steve smiles the sweet, lopsided smile that never fails to make Tony’s stomach flip.

“I need you to know that… I didn’t have to date you to know that I loved you. I figured that a long time ago.”

Tony stills, breath frozen in his lungs.

“I guess, what I’m saying is… I love you too. I’ve loved you for a very long time, Tony. Even way before—” Steve breaks eye contact, looks down as he clears his throat. When he speaks again, his voice is tight. “Way before we got together. I’m talking… years before.”

Tony still finds it hard to breathe. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, the word more breath than sound. He meets Tony’s dazed gaze. “So you don’t have to worry about… jumping the gun. Not with me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“...Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Tony feels a lightness growing inside of him, spreading outwards to his extremities.

“Good.” Steve smiles, warm and impossibly fond.

“...Glad we’re on the same page.” Tony’s gaze drops down to Steve’s lips.

“We are.” Steve inches closer, nose brushing Tony’s. He then tilts his head ever so slightly and takes Tony’s lower lip between his, kissing him so tenderly Tony’s heart feels like it’s about to burst with it.

Steve’s warm hands slide up Tony’s naked back under his open shirt, sending goosebumps breaking across his skin. Tony buries his hands in Steve’s hair and relishes the feeling of the soft strands caught between his fingers. They stay caught up in each other for a few moments, capturing and releasing each other’s lips until the need for breath becomes too unbearable.

They break apart eventually, accompanied by soft chuckles. Steve smiles up at him, lips slick and cherry red, courtesy of Tony. He reaches up to caress Tony’s right eyebrow with the pad of his thumb, fleeting and affectionate.

“Get some rest, okay? You must be really tired. I should probably go to bed, too.”

Tony looks down at his lap, clearing his throat. “Uh, I know that we haven’t done this before, but…”

Steve waits patiently for Tony to gather his thoughts, hands stroking up and down Tony’s sides.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?” Tony finds the courage to meet Steve’s eyes, holding his breath.

Steve’s blue eyes are gazing at him intently, looking at him like he’s the only person in the world worth his sole, undivided attention.

Tony swallows. “No sex. Just to sleep. If you—”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“I would like that very much.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Tony feels his own lips slowly curve up into a smile, wide and unbridled. 

“Good.” Steve nods, lips twitching, his eyes never leaving Tony’s. 

Tony grins, feeling near giddy with delight. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“We are, sweetheart.” Steve looks up at him, blue eyes fond and smile radiant. “We definitely are.”

[ink-herrscher]

present

— veliona & herrscher of sentience

— herrscher of sentience x fu hua (mentioned)

genre : fluff

warnings : swearing, adult topics

wordcount : 1,706

summary : how many kisses can senti get from hua in one night? the answer is yes.

The café is a quiet haven amidst the ocean of noise outside.

It was a relief, stumbling into the shop. Outside was chaotic; too many people were packed into the mall like sardines in a can, and the heat of their skin grew more uncomfortable with every wave of crowd drawn into the bright flashes of sale in every shop. It was almost impossible to breathe out there, but here, it’s calm, as if stepping into another realm entirely removed from the outside.

Senti sighs. Her milk tea is almost drained. Idly, she bites her straw and blows air into the liquid. It disturbs the shards of ice hanging onto the surface of the tea and drowns them in bubbles.

“You’re useless.”

Veliona shoots her a deadpan look and rolls her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry for not being good enough, Master.”

She’s three-parts snark and zero-part helpful. Senti groans, stirring the remains of sugar and boba around in her drink. A gentle orchestra washes over the café, stringing another Christmas song like a lullaby. It’s supposed to be calming, maybe, but Senti is so close to bashing her head into the table and hoping it knocks her out of this place and straight back to her bed at home.

“Are you sure you got nothing useful from her?” she asks again, leaning back in her chair. “Like, nothing at all? Even just something she might want? Anything.”

There is a slice of ice cream cake at the corner of their table. It’s Veliona’s order, left untouched while she finishes her cup of coffee. Her self-control is admirable, really, but to Senti, it’s just an easier steal compared to having to fight for it while she’s already eating it. Veliona shoots her a look as she leans over and takes a spoonful, but doesn’t comment on it.

“Listen,” she says. “We literally have never talked before. I tried to make small talk before pushing the conversation there, but she wasn’t taking the hint. What was I supposed to do? Ask her directly what she wants for Christmas because her girlfriend was too much of a wuss to ask her herself?”

“I’m not being a wuss.” The cake is a bit too sweet. Still, she takes another spoonful, and this time, Veliona slaps her hand away. Senti scowls, but gives it up. For now. “I’m the one giving her the gift. I can’t ask her what she wants.”

“No, I think you’re just being a wuss – and stop fucking stealing my cake and order your own!”

Senti rolls her eyes. “Killjoy.”

“And you’re a goddamned beggar,” she grouches back. “How are you so shameless when stealing my food when you can’t even ask your own girlfriend what she wants for Christmas?”

“For the last time, I can’t because it’d ruin the surprise!”

“Yeah, because it isn’t obvious if I ask her myself.” Veliona scoffs. “It’s not as if I’m your only friend in the base, right? And I have absolutely no reason to ask her about her preferences aside from, I don’t know. You ordering me around?”

“She won’t figure it out.”

Veliona takes a sip of her coffee. “Hua’s not dumb, Senti.”

Senti puffs her cheeks.  Outside, the light warms the glass, although it is more like an afterthought of heat compared to the winter breeze. A lone snowflake drifts by and falls too close to the pane, and it dissolves to condensation before it can imprint its shape on the window panel. Senti presses her cheek to her palm and sighs.

“Whatever. Can’t you just call her right now and ask?”

“No.” Veliona glares at her. “Just because you have absolutely no shame doesn’t mean I don’t either.”

She frowns. “Hey. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Veliona shrugs. She empties her drink and pushes it to the side. “Dunno. Is that pretty head of yours only for display?”

Maybe she should order her own cake. She’s craving one now, too. “You’re such a bitch.”

“Speak for yourself, lover girl,” Veliona scoffs. “I can’t believe I’m wasting a perfectly good afternoon with you, of all people.”

She’s already done her Christmas shopping. It was easy, really. She came in with a clear idea of what she wanted, and was done before Senti could even pick which store she wanted to go to first. She peers at the shopping bags reclined around the foot of Veliona’s seat, and groans in despair, burying her face in her arms.

Dammit. Why is it so hard to buy gifts for the old timer? It shouldn’t be this hard, but she’s absolutely stumped.

“There, there,” she comforts, but it’s the most unsympathetic attempt ever. “I’m sure she’ll like one of those knitted sweaters grandmas like these days.”

“She’s not a grandma, Vel,” Senti mutters.

“Could have fooled me.”

Senti hesitates, tilting her head in thought. “Okay, maybe she is a grandma,” she admits. “But I’m not gonna buy a gift that enables her stupid old ways more! Hell, she won’t even let me hold her hand in public. She’s like, stuck in the 70’s! Next thing you know, she’s gonna tell me only married couples can fuck, I swear to God.”

Veliona wrinkles her nose. “Too much information.”

“I don’t care about what you think.”

The slice of cake she held off on is already gone. In the blink of an eye, she’s on her feet, gathering her bags on her arms. “Oh, all right, then. Looks like I’m not needed here anymore. Bye~”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Senti grabs the hem of her dress in panic. “I’m sorry, your Royal Highness. Your humble servant didn’t mean to insult your all-knowing wisdom and –”

Veliona smacks the top of her head, but sits back down, anyway, smiling. Her bags clink against each other when she lays them carefully back down again. “For fuck’s sake, shut up with that stupid nickname already.”

“Ouch.” She grumbles, clutching her head. “Fuck you. Stop pretending you don’t like it.”

“Fuck you, too, you dork,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Whatever. Just give her a book or buy a cake or something. Just make up your damned mind.”

“She already has a whole library at home,” Senti sighs. “And she doesn’t like sweets that much. And anyway, those are all too impersonal. I can’t give her something like that.”

Veliona flags down a server to order again. Following her initiative, Senti picks up her menu and browses for a dessert, too. “Well, what does she like? Or does she have something that she needs right now?”

Hm. Even when she racks her head, nothing comes up. Hua has always been so . . . unmaterialistic. But Senti has to find something she’d want, somehow. It’s the first Christmas together – her first gift to her ever – and it has to be special.

She groans and rubs her hand over her face. “I don’t know.”

“This is going nowhere. I can’t believe you don’t know her at all.”

A server finally approaches. Veliona points to something on her menu and looks at Senti.

“I’ll just have another milk tea,” she sighs. God, what she won’t do for a can of beer. She’s overthinking about this damned gift too much. Her head hurts. “And I know her, okay? It’s just that . . . the old timer has never really liked anything.” She pauses. “No, what’s worse is that she’ll definitely like anything I throw at her as long as it’s from me.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Senti shoots her an exasperated look. “Idiot, if she’ll like everything I give to her because it’s from me, then it’s harder to find something that’ll make her . . . dunno. Speechless. I want my gift to be special and unforgettable, you know?”

She curls her lip. “Don’t look at me. I don’t even know her that well." She hums, tapping her cheek thoughtfully. "Then, what about just making something for her rather than buying something?”

Senti perks up. That sounds good. “Make her something? Like what?”

The server returns with a flourish, setting down two more drinks on the table. Senti pouts at her friend at the lack of dessert.

“I don’t know. Write her a love letter or something.”

“A love letter,” she repeats blankly, and closes her eyes. They’ve already wasted so much time just talking, and she still doesn’t have an idea on what to give as gift. This is becoming really tiring. “I’m not an awkward sixth grader, Vel. I’m not gonna fucking write her a love letter.”

Another sigh. Senti takes a sip of her tea, and purses her lips. She’s already too full from the last one. She doesn’t know why she ordered another one impulsively. What a waste.

“At this point, I am going to wrap you up and stuff you in a box and send it to Hua. You’re cool, but I’m literally at my limit.”

Senti falls silent. The ice on her drink dances with the straw. “You think she’ll like it if I . . . gift myself to her?”

She almost feels embarrassed. There’s no reason to, but a heavy flush rises up her cheeks. That would be a good gift, won't it? Maybe she can get a ring for her. A promise ring. Like a symbol that she is wholly dedicated to her. That she pretty much owns Senti: body, heart, and soul. A vow from her to Hua, that she won't ever be alone again because Senti will stick by her side for all eternity.

That's right. What would be a better gift than Senti herself? Veliona is a fucking genius.

But Veliona takes one look at her, and barks a laugh. She slaps a couple of bucks onto the table and grabs Senti’s hand and drags her out with one swift move.

“Hey!” she protests. “Where are we going?”

“Buying your gift before I lose it and leave your ass hanging, duh.” She throws a look behind her shoulder and examines Senti. “We’ll get a lingerie, some silk rope, and maybe a couple other toys for you two to play with. Thank me later.”

It takes a couple of seconds to sink in. When it does, Senti's already red face turns hotter. “Hey, wait! Stop! I didn’t mean it like that!”

[comfortwriting]

Best Friends Brother Part 4 - G.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

Part 4 of ‘Best Friends Brother’ - please read part 1, 2, 3

George Weasley x Fem Reader slow burn

Warnings: Swearing, Mention of food, eating, and blood.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of food, eating, and blood. 

Fred waited outside the owlery whilst Ron looked for you, hoping to find you with Gideon to calm his nerves, but also hoping to catch you with George to prove his suspicions so he could finally stop living on the edge all the time.

"Well?" Asked Fred, staring at his younger brother who walked out of the owlery.

Ron shook his head with an annoyed expression on his face "She's not there" he replied.

"Is her owl?"

Ron nodded, following his brother down the steps "yeah, yet she told me she was going to spend some time with him."

"Strange isn't it?" Fred muttered, "how she's always away and nowhere to be found at the same time as George."

Ron went quiet, he hated this - hated the thought of you being swept off your feet by someone better, someone everyone preferred over him, even if he was your best friend, he knew his older brother better than anyone.

"I wish you had that map, you know, you should nick it from him when he's sleeping."

"I would" replied Fred "but he clutches to it when he sleeps."

"Hogsmeade.." Ron said deep in thought "they could be in Hogsmeade!"

Running out of the town and back to Hogwarts, you ducked your head, praying that you wouldn't be recognised through the storms of other students and villagers. You needed to get to the owlery, to be with Gideon like you lied about, you couldn't get caught, not now.

George sprinted towards Zonko's, also making sure that he wouldn't get spotted, he quickly sneaked inside the joke shop through the backdoor, browsing the nose-biting teacups.

"Well, where is he then?" Ron's voice asked in the background.

George swallowed hard and pretended to be focused on the teacups, ignoring his brothers inching closer and closer towards him.

Fred patted his twin on the shoulder "What you doing here then?" he asked "You can't keep skipping Quidditch practice, I'm getting into bother."

George jumped out of his skin at Fred's touch, he turned around to look at him "Sorry for skipping, I've been Christmas shopping" he lied "Only time I can come here, it's why I've got the map." 

Fred and Ron exchanged looks before staring back at George, both of them still unsure, Ron more than Fred as deep down, he believed and hoped that his own twin wouldn't lie to him, especially to his face.

"All right then" Fred replied, staring back at the teapots.

"Have you uh, have you seen Y/N?" Ron asked, "Went to the owlery this morning, but she wasn't there."

George's mouth and throat went dry, he swallowed hard again, desperate for water. "I haven't, no, if I do I'll tell her you're looking for her."

Ron pursed his lips and nodded "I guess we'll leave you to your Christmas shopping then."

Ron and Fred left Zonko's, leaving George with a dreadful and heavy heap of guilt, sinking into his stomach. George sighed and walked to a quieter part of the shop, examining the map, his two brothers going for a drink without him.

George finally got the courage to leave Zonko's and go into Honey Dukes, making sure to pick out everything Ron and Fred loved most in hopes that this could buy their acceptance and trust as Christmas break hung over his head.  

Hurrying up the short, steep, steps - fighting to catch your breath, you stormed into the owlery, the many owls staring at you whilst Gideon turned his head, blinking at you sweetly. Your forehead produced droplets of sweat and you were desperate for a glass of water, your backpack weighing heavily on your shoulders, full of letters and parcels for your family and friends. 

You hunched over with your hands on your thighs, panting, Gideon started to shuffle impatiently. You lifted up your right hand and stretched out your index finger whilst the rest remained in a loose fist.

"One moment, Gideon." You breathed, your heart finally calming down.

Stretching and walking over to your owl, you lifted him into your arms and found a clear stop on the owlery floor to sit down, surrounded by small animal carcasses, feathers, and droppings.

You stroked Gideon's face and back gently with the back of your hand "Penny never allowed me to give her so much affection like this" you reminisced "I'm so happy you let me" you pecked the top of Gideon's head softly, standing up slowly and walking out, ready to see if Gideon could fly as well as Penny once did.

"Something doesn't add up" Ron huffed "Christmas shopping? since when were you left out of that?"

Fred stared at his shoes, walking towards the castle, his tummy still warm from the butterbeer. "I want to believe him, I don't think he'd lie to my face."

Ron shook his head "Well, we'll soon find out" he grumbled, "because mum insisted that she's coming to ours for Christmas, it's why I've been looking for her."

"But she usually comes over for Christmas, doesn't she?" Fred asked, knitting his eyebrows together.

Ron nodded "Yeah, but I didn't ask this time, so either mum is encouraging me to invite her, or someone else has asked."

Giggling, you watched Gideon soar around in the sky, feeling more than confident that he would be able to deliver your letters and packages without any issues, flying down and perching on your arm, you gave him a treat and stroked his head. 

"I've wondered where you've been." Ron called out behind you "Where were you this morning?"

"I've been with Gideon" you replied quickly, still focusing on stroking his soft feathers. 

"Not this morning you weren't" Ron argued, walking towards you and standing by your side. 

You sighed and turned to face him, feeling frustrated "I've been wrapping up presents, okay?" you huffed. 

Ron raised his eyebrows, trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle in his head "Were you out shopping with George by any chance?"

Shit. He's on to me. He saw me leave Hogsmeade. 

No. No. He can't know, not now, no way!

"Oh come off it!" you acted, crossing your arms, causing Gideon to leap up and perch on your shoulder "I did my shopping weeks ago - alone!"

Ron swallowed your lies down his throat, the actual truth slowly dissolving in his mind. He nodded his head and pursed his lips "Sorry"

You nodded, feeling slightly guilty about lying to him "It's okay, just... just trust me, yeah? you're my best mate."

Ron wrapped his arm around you, starting to feel more confident and secure with there being no chance in his head of you and George dating "You're my best mate too."

As the snow continued to fall and surround Hogwarts, you, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Fred, and George got on board the Hogwarts Express and made your way back to London. You could feel the butterflies flapping their wings inside of you, soaring as Gideon did in the sky days before the end of term. 

You and George were so excited to be able to spend more time together, without hundreds of students watching or overhearing, but the risk of being together under his roof and surrounded by his family was too high - but you didn't care, because if anything, in your mind - you weren't going to get caught, you would be careful, as secretive as can be. 

Hurling your trunk and presents into the warm and cozy burrow, Mrs Weasley engulfed you into a comforting hug "It is so lovely to see you again, dear!" She smiled, cupping your face in her gentle hands "You and Hermione will be staying with Ginny in her room, it's very spacious!" 

One of your butterflies lost a wing, starting to fall deep down into your tummy, you didn't want to share a room if it meant that you would be spending most of your time with the little sister of your boyfriend, and your best friends nosy and opinionated crush. 

"But don't panic dear, you don't have to go to bed when they do, you can stay up as long as you like! Oh, Harry!" Mrs Weasley pulled herself away from you and hurried over to Harry. 

Looking behind over your shoulder, George rested against the kitchen counter, turning his head and nodding in the direction of the living room, you knew what this meant and the injured butterfly in the pit of your stomach slowly recovered. Smiling, you nodded back, confirming the meeting, and quickly picked up your trunk and bags, following Ginny and Hermione.

Without having a minute to breathe, you were called down for dinner, all of you huddled around the dinner table surrounded by mouthwatering dishes you had missed so dearly. Mr and Mrs Weasley used this time for a much-needed catch-up, mainly Mrs Weasley scolding Fred, George, and even Ron for misbehaving ("but not you Harry, dear!") whilst Mr Weasley bombarded Hermione with questions about her parents being dentists and expressing how fascinating inspecting peoples teeth seemed. 

George kept flashing you looks across the table, smiling, then smirking, eyeing you up, causing you to go red in the face and struggle to contain your giggles. Part of you wanted to entertain him, pull faces back, blow a sneaky kiss or wink, but Hermione had already noticed George making faces, and you enjoying it.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked, putting down her bags and sitting on her bed starting to unpack, Ginny copied, listening in. 

You placed the presents under your bed, opening your trunk you pulled out your pajamas. "I'm lost? What?" you replied, unpacking everything you needed out, placing your folded clothes inside the huge dresser. 

"The way George kept looking at you throughout dinner," Hermione said, the look of patience wearing thin splashed across her face. 

Ginny stopped unpacking and turned around, staring at you. 

"He wasn't looking at me." You replied, pulling off your knitted jumper. 

"Yes, he was!" Hermione insisted.

"It's nothing, Hermione, I spilled gravy down my top and I got embarrassed-"

"Can we not argue?" Ginny interrupted "I'm sure George was just smiling over nothing."

You nodded, Hermione pulled a face and got out her toothbrush "well, I'm exhausted, I'm getting ready for bed and I'll be calling it a night."

Ginny sat on her bed, yawning and stretching "Me too, I'm up early tomorrow, mum needs me to help her with choosing what's for Chrismas Dinner."

Hermione got changed and brushed her teeth in the bathroom whilst Ginny stood outside the door, waiting to go in, having the bedroom all to yourself, you quickly got changed into your pajamas and got into bed, shutting your eyes and practicing deep breathing, pretending to be asleep. 

Ginny and Hermione both entered the bedroom quietly and got into their beds, discussing what time they would be up in the morning and whispering goodnight, you waited until the two of them fell asleep when you could hear their snores you slowly got out of bed and left the bedroom, slowly walking down the many stairs, your heart pounding in your chest.

Walking into the living room, George smiled up at you, the dim light highlighting his golden hair and deep brown eyes, he patted the space next to him, your heart pounding even more. Sitting down next to him, you leaned into him, swinging your legs on the sofa and resting your head against his chest, his arms sneaking around you and pulling you into him. 

"I've been waiting for this for so long" George mumbled quietly, nuzzling into your hair. 

Your cheeks began to heat up, you had never been this close to him before, not ever, the closest was holding hands a kiss - and now the two of you were cuddling underneath a warm blanket, so close that you could hear and feel his heart beating, his scent surrounding you, and his touch making you feel safe and secure. 

"Me too," you said softly "I'm so glad we're away from the constant noise, large crowds, and watching eyes." 

George smiled, kissing your head softly "It's nice just being able to exist with you, like this, away from everyone and everything, even if it's this late in the evening." 

"We'll need to be careful" you reminded him "Hermione saw what happened at dinner and she brought it up in front of Ginny. Ron has been paranoid too, especially after what happened a few days ago."

George nodded, leaving soft kisses on your head, his hands stroking your waist "Fred's suspicious too, I had to give him the map, the way he was looking at me - it's hard lying to him, Y/N."

Pulling George's hand up to your mouth, you pressed your lips against his hand and kissed it softly, George smiled, pecking your head with another soft kiss. 

"It's hard" you sighed "but we won't have to hide this forever, the right time will come."

George freed one of his hands and reached for the family photo album on the table in front of him, placing it in front of you to hold. 

"Just spending the late evening with you for the next two weeks is enough for me." He sat up, pulling you closer. 

Holding onto the photo album you opened it, expecting to see pictures but you were met with nothing but empty spaces. 

"I've bought this for us," George said softly "I want us to fill this with pictures, we need to make up for the three months we've been together with no photographs to show for it."

You felt your heart enlarge and flush your body with warm blood, your veins pumping it throughout your body, getting high on the feeling of this happiness - this love.

"Oh, George..."

Hearing a door opening and footsteps up above, creaking down the stairs, your face and George's dropped.

"Hide!" He mouthed, snatching the photo album from you.

Tag list: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl @horrorxweasley @carisi-sonny

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - A Corpse, Cake, and a Cuppa (Rated NC17)

Summary: Aziraphale is Death and Crowley is the serial killer who keeps murdering to catch a glimpse of the ethereal being he fell in love with. (1714 words)

Notes: Written for the above Halloween prompt from @new-endings/M.A.D.#8943. Human Crowley au. It’s kind of gory, I’m not going to lie.

Read on AO3.

“Jesus Christmas!" Aziraphale yelps, tiptoeing through the thick pool of red coagulating on the concrete. Threads of it cling to the soles of his shoes when he lifts his feet as if trying to drag him down. Aziraphale has seen a great deal of blood in his time. None of it has been pretty. But this is especially gruesome.

He wonders if that’s for his benefit.

"Look at... look at this! Look at all the… !” Aziraphale takes a pause and breathes in deep, pressing the thumb and forefinger of his right hand to his forehead. Tension causes a vein to distend and throb - quite the feat since, as a non-human entity, he shouldn't be able to experience this kind of pain. Or so he thought. In the thousands of years he's roamed earth reaping souls, he's finally found the one mortal who can give him what humans call a migraine. And he doesn't like it. Not one bit. “Could you please just… stop already?"

Crowley grins, thrilled giddy by the arrival of his intended audience. “No,” he replies, shoving the slicked head of his filthy ax deeper into the severed spine of the fresh corpse at his feet.

Aziraphale grimaces as the blade lands with a resounding slap. 

That ax of Crowley's gets on every one of Aziraphale's nerves. It's effective for its purpose but positively unsanitary. It makes his skin crawl every time he sees it.

Crowley lifts it slowly, eyes Aziraphale menacingly.

Eyes his nice, clean coat, Aziraphale realizes.

“Crowley!” he warns, putting both hands up in defense. “Don't you dare... !”

But Crowley doesn't let him finish, hoisting his ax higher with part of the dead man's torso attached. He doesn't need to do anything after that. The torso falls from the blade and splashes down in the pool, accomplishing what Crowley set out to do.

“Holy... GAH!” Aziraphale leaps back to avoid the spray. He frowns at his clothes when he sees he wasn't quick enough. "Look what you've done! You’ve made a mess of my coat!”

“Improved it, I’d say,” Crowley snarks. “Given it a pop of color.”

“I've had this coat for ages and hadn't collected a single stain! Not one! And look at your shoes! Ruined!" He gazes down at Crowley's feet in despair. "I actually liked that pair.”

“Really?" Crowley tilts his head, batting his eyes innocently. "You didn't tell me that.”

“Yes, well... " Aziraphale busies himself fishing a handkerchief out of his pocket. Praying he’s swift enough to save the fabric, he pats at the specks on his sleeve "... it’s not my place to tell a homicidal maniac that he looks fetching in snakeskin, is it?”

Crowley pouts, his lower lip jutting out, making him look comically childish despite the streaks of blood running down his cheeks. 

Aziraphale’s brows pull together. He glances around, trying to work out what's wrong. "What? What is it?"

"You're being mean."

"How am I being mean?"

"You're calling me names."

"Accurate ones, yes."

"You sound disappointed."

"You think so!?"

“B-but... but why? I took your advice!" Crowley argues. "I changed me m.o.!”

“I didn’t give you advice! I said you should stop killing innocent people!”

“I did! This guy?" Crowley plants the heel of his sopping shoe into the dead man's crooked neck for emphasis. "He weren’t innocent! He was a serial killer, too! He just happened to be shite at it!”

"I can see that." Aziraphale peers into the vacant eyes of the man on the ground, spirit buzzing beneath his skin, waiting to be reaped. But Aziraphale is in no rush. In the choice between filling out paperwork and shooting the shite with Crowley, surprisingly, he chooses Crowley. 

Or maybe not so surprising, Aziraphale muses, biting his lower lip and indulging in a private chuckle. He rolls his eyes in disgust at himself right after. What are you doing? Stop that!

"Besides, I'm doin' you a solid!" 

Aziraphale scoffs, snapping back to his senses. "How do you figure?"

"You're Death, ain't ya? I'm keeping you in business!"

"I don't know if you've read the papers lately, dear boy, but humans are dropping like flies thanks to their own stubbornness and stupidity. You're slap in the middle of one of the worst pandemics in history, but instead of doing what you can to stay safe, you lot spend your time arguing over petty b.s.! I won't wear a mask! It's against my rights! I'm not taking the vaccine! It'll make me sterile! There is no disease! It's all a big conspiracy! Meanwhile, in the states, some orange lunatic has everyone drinking bleach! Believe me, I hardly need your help doing my job!" 

“Oi! Don’t lump me in with those prats!”

“Why not? You’re not wearing a mask, I see.”

“Don’t have to. I got my shot. And I keep me distance.”

“But you’re covered in blood! Did that man you dismembered have the virus!? You don’t know!” Aziraphale cringes at words that sound far more like concern than scolding. Which he should be doing. Scolding and ridiculing, and possibly calling the police.

But he won’t.

If Crowley were thrown in prison, it would be harder for Aziraphale to find an excuse to see him. Aziraphale has yet to decide if that’s something he wants, but either way, he’d prefer it not be at the expense of another life.

"Fine. Whatever. If that's the way you feel about it... " Crowley grumbles, letting what remains of that statement die as embarrassment rises to his cheeks, settling beneath the red already there. He crosses his arms over his chest and turns his face away. 

Just like a child, Aziraphale thinks. 

And as with a child, Aziraphale should have nipped this in the bud much, much earlier - like when Crowley realized that he could summon Aziraphale whenever he wanted by upping the frequency of his murderous antics. 

This, to date, is his twenty-seventh kill.

Aziraphale doesn't know how Crowley spotted him. He's pretty adept at avoiding human detection. But after victim number eight, Aziraphale turned around, scythe in hand, and there he stood: tall, gangly, bizarrely besotted, dressed in black and wearing sunglasses at one in the morning. Aziraphale thought Crowley was a run-of-the-mill psychopath looking for attention, seeing Aziraphale as a hapless dolt to play cat-and-mouse with, not knowing for one second who he was dealing with.

Not only did Crowley know exactly who Aziraphale was, but he had taken a considerable shine to him.

Aziraphale humored the man when their paths crossed so he could get on with his work, never for one minute considering the consequences. Thinking back on their past interactions, Aziraphale can pick out the hints Crowley had been dropping.

Aziraphale played right into them, and he could kick himself over it.

"We have to stop meeting like this," Aziraphale quipped dryly after Crowley had beheaded some poor, down-on-his-luck fool. "I'm going to start thinking that you have a thing for me."

"Finally!" Crowley tossed his arms in the air. "At this rate, I was going to have to murder half of London and spell out the words ’Will you go out with me?’ with their bodies. Do you know how time-consuming that would have been?"

Aziraphale had written that comment off as a morbid attempt at humor. 

Now he feels like an imbecile.

He’s going to get an earful from Gabriel if he ever gets wind of this. Aziraphale has been able to cover up the increase in London deaths by blaming the pandemic. But once people get their acts together and things calm down, he’ll have to come clean.

There’s a serial killer roaming the streets that has a serious crush on him.

Aziraphale lets out a heavy sigh as he comes to a decision.

A bad decision.

He's going to regret this. He knows he's going to regret this. 

But will he really though?

Aziraphale looks Crowley over, still moping with his nose in the air. He examines him at depth - his sharp features, his debonair style (hiding beneath a litre of blood), his devil-may-care attitude, his rowdy sense of humor. If he were another angel, or even a demon, Aziraphale would have asked him out already, body count or no. 

So what is he waiting for?

It’s not entirely unheard of, an angel dating outside their dominion. And as for the moral issues of dating a murderer, well, Aziraphale is an angel. He has a responsibility to bring sinners to the light, help them see the truth. That can be done anywhere, not just in church - on a street corner, in a diner…

Back at his flat.

Besides, he and Crowley have a lot more in common than Aziraphale did with his last paramour, an angel he had dallied with solely for the fact that he was guardian of comestibles.

It seemed like a match made in Heaven, so to speak.

Far from it.

“Look - if I let you take me out for coffee, will you stop the gratuitous bloodshed?”

Crowley all but gasps when that question leaves Aziraphale’s mouth, the grin growing on his face transforming, becoming less maniacal and more… normal if that makes any sense. "One cup of coffee. That's all I ask."

"Then come along. Here… “ Aziraphale snaps his fingers, cleaning Crowley thoroughly before he takes his arm. “If you're good, I'll let you buy me a slice of cake.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

“I’m glad you think so. I’m a very slow eater. And I figure the longer I stay with you, the more I can keep an eye on you."

“Deal. But, you know," Crowley starts, his tone so filled with teasing he’s on the verge of giggles, "if you, say, spent the night at my flat, you could keep an eye on me for hours. Think of all the people I wouldn’t be able to kill.”

Aziraphale smirks, amused that they both had a semblance of the same idea. “You don’t say?”

“I do.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“More so than you bartering human lives against a cuppa and cake?”

Aziraphale shrugs, but he doesn't relinquish Crowley's arm. He does, however, relieve him of his ax so he doesn’t get any ideas along the way. “Fair point.”