#added couple books that I can remember reading

[darktrashsoulbear]

The Abyss Of Affection

Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: Aemond discovers the book his sweet wife has been obsessed with and after reading one of the scenes, a plan begins to formulate (fluff)

This was inspired by a conversation I had with the wonderful Hannah @gwaynesprincess

House of the Dragon Masterlist

Warnings: Allusions to smut

Word Count: 2308

Divider Credit: @saradika-graphics

Not entirely show canon as Jaehaerys is alive, Maelor exists and people are happy

Any likes, comments and reblogs are always always appreciated :)

His calculated footsteps echoed in the hallways of the keep’s royal chambers, following the elder of the King’s brothers - Prince Aemond Targaryen - back to his chambers after an incredibly taxing day filled with fulfilling duties that were not his own and patrolling the city atop his beloved Vhagar, the Queen of all Dragons. Many would argue a dragon fit for a true king, Aemond would agree. Finally rounding the corner, he greeted the familiar face of Ser Steffon giving a cordial nod as he made his way through the doors of his chambers, removing his cloak as he went. 

The sight that greeted the prince was not surprising yet still brought a small, fond smile to his face. Laying on her side of the feather bed was his sweet wife curled up under the various blankets spread across the bed to combat the chill in the air as the citadel switched black ravens to white and summer turned to winter. Aemond made quick work of stripping out of his leathers and into a loose night shirt and breeches ready to join his wife in slumber.

Just as he was about to blow out the candles beside where they lay, he noticed a book beneath the blankets next to his sweet wife’s sleeping form. He picked it up ready to place it on the small table on her side of the bed before taking a look at the title and realising it was the book that had so often stolen her attention away from him during the nights they spent together before the fire. The prince’s insatiable curiosity, it seems, also extended to what on earth his sweet wife could be reading in the non-academic books she so loves.

Flipping over to one of the pages he remembers her completely raving about with her lady in waiting, he began to read and as he continued, a plan began to formulate.

She was met by a chorus of “good morrow, Princess” to which she responded with decidedly less vigour and an almost petulant expression as she discovered that her husband was in fact not in their shared chambers. This prompted the other ladies in the room to barely suppress their giggles knowing how not seeing her husband in the mornings can dampen her mood - not that the Prince fairs any better himself.

“Do any of you happen to know where my dear lord husband is at such an hour?” she discontentedly drawled.

The handmaidens exchanged uneasy glances with one another which, of course, did not escape her watchful gaze and she probed further with a single raise of an eyebrow. Silence ensued for a couple of very awkward, tension-filled seconds until the Princess’ lady in waiting - Elaena - stepped closer and stated that “we are not at liberty to say, Princess,” adding a slight curtsy at the end.

Again silence ensued only interrupted by her own chortle “what in the name of the seven do you mean ‘not at liberty’, forgive me but I am utterly confused.”

“I’m afraid Prince Aemond has forbidden us to speak of it Princess and he reminded us that if you demanded… well Princess he said for us to remember that his orders outrank yours,” Elaena hesitantly explained, shoulders visibly tense at her admission.

An even longer silence commenced, this one not so easily interrupted. Instead the Princess slightly nodded her head and proceeded to load some fresh fruits onto her plate before biting into a strawberry that was surprisingly ripe given the season. She sat with a contemplative look on her face, her ladies worried she was deeply hurt when really she was wondering what the best way to punish him would be, perhaps… 

She was pulled from her musings by a knock on the chamber doors which one of the handmaidens - Lyla - was quick to answer. She carried a written message delivered by a page boy and with mild curiosity the Princess unravelled it and began to read.

She then very calmly got up, retreating to the sitting chambers with her beloved book and instructed her handmaidens to leave her, and on their way to “inform Prince Aemond that if he wishes to have an audience he may do so in our private chambers, I am not a dog to be called to heel and told to wait in the dragon pit until he finally chooses to descend from the sky”.

Suddenly Queen Helaena turned to look directly into the Princess’ eyes causing her to startle. Helaena grasped her arms in a gentle hold and decided that “you will be very happy with it,” and while not always understanding but being kind to Helaena’s ways, the Princess confidently nodded in affirmation.

“I’m certain I will be sister,” followed by a soft squeeze of the Queen’s hands she quickly let go to ensure she didn’t crowd the gentle soul beside her.

Turning her attention to Maelor, the youngest of the King and Queen’s children, she scooped him into her arms and brought him to her lap where she proceeded to grab the second less than perfect dragon (Daeron’s first attempt) and began to play with him. Entirely encompassed by the babe's soft giggles she failed to notice the shadow of her husband nor feel the piercing but fond gaze he stared at the two of them with - giving him a few ideas of his own.

Finally sensing his presence, his sweet wife turned towards him and pinned him with a markedly less than sweet gaze. After returning Maelor to his mother, the princess stood, brushed off her dress, said her goodbyes to the children with the promise of visiting again soon, squeezed Helaena’s hand and strode straight past her dear husband without so much as a look in his direction.

Aemond Targaryen, the incredibly formidable man that he is, immediately turned and followed (and after speaking with her lady in waiting) trailed a step behind knowing that if he got any closer he may well be subject to a more physical attack.

“Sweet wife - ,” his mouth slammed shut, the sound of his teeth clacking together audible as she turned around to face him and he thanked the seven that they’d at least made it to the hall outside their chambers to give a small amount of privacy.

“How can I be of service to my Prince? Shall I draw you a bath, change your linens, perhaps wash them too? After all, your commands should certainly be obeyed by all who rank lower than you lord husband!” and Aemond’s moment of stunned silence was all she needed to turn and push the door to their chambers open, her hair almost whipping Aemond in the face. After clearing his throat and righting his already perfectly placed doublet, the prince followed after his wife. This time the nod to Ser Steffon was slightly more stiff and definitely less cordial. 

Upon entering their chambers, it became apparent that his sweet wife was just getting started on his torture as she began shedding her day clothes to ready herself for dinner that night as it had become customary for the royal family to dine together per the Dowager Queen Alicent’s request. As he walked in she turned to look at him, again raising a single eyebrow, a silent demand for him to explain himself and explain he did - after he managed to bring his eye back up to meet hers.

Aemond nervously began to describe how he had to go patrol the city earlier than expected that morrow and after his wife’s further probing he let out a sigh as he admitted that he was hiding something from her but he insisted she could not know. Instead he decided to avert her attention by apologising for his blunt and insensitive instructions, insisting his mind was incredibly preoccupied and he meant none of it. 

After a beat, his sweet wife looked back up at him and simply agreed that it was foolish of him before continuing to prepare herself for dinner. With the guilt still weighing down on him, Aemond tried once more to draw a further reaction from her and informed her that “we will not be dining with the family tonight, my heart, it shall just be the two of us so please do not feel obligated to wear something that will placate my mother”. The huff of air Aemond let out could have rivalled Vhagar’s as his Princess finally met his eye and gave a smile of her own.

The Princess very quickly decided that she would never again allow her husband to guide her through the gardens, at dusk, alone with no idea of where on earth he was going. She marvelled at how her Prince had spent the entirety of his life growing up within the walls of the keep while she had only moved here three years past when their betrothal was finalised and yet she knew the gardens a lot better than he did. They walked in silence with the occasional mumble of “I’m sure it was this way”, “perhaps it’s actually that way” and what she is sure sounded like a “seven hells this is so embarrassing”.

Eventually, the Princess abruptly stopped walking causing Aemond to turn back to look at her with wide eyes as though he was expecting her to end the night and head back into the castle (which definitely seems tempting) but instead she drew herself closer to him tracing circles on the back of his hand with her thumb and sweetly asked him to tell her where he wanted to go and she would lead the way. Confusion clouded her eyes when she saw her husband’s gaze darken with disappointment at not being able to keep the location secret before giving a rather reluctant nod and mumbling the area of the gardens.

This again caused her to still, as not long before setting off on their adventure she’d gotten to her favourite scene in the romance novel she was currently re-reading which described the relationship between two lovers from flea bottom snook into the castle’s garden and had a picnic beneath a section where two trees intertwined to look like a heart. She let out a small laugh at the coincidence before leading him in the direction of the garden’s that she learned the trees actually existed in when she went searching after her first time reading the book.

As they stepped through the clearing, fingers interlocked, Aemond’s sweet wife stopped dead in her tracks. The scene before her bringing an onslaught of tears to her eyes and Aemond’s own eye drank in her reaction feeling his chest expand with pride. The scene was exactly as described in the books - granted the royalty version - with a table in the middle of the clearing, the heart trees standing right before it. A small fire was lit as the air was cool and biting and she thanked the gods for giving her a husband intelligent enough to organise for a canopy to be set up over the table. Even the food was some of the meats and fresh fruit described in her book.

After taking it all in, the princess - now thankful for there being no escort - fisted her husband’s nicest leathers and brought him down for a bruising kiss, whispering thank you’s and I love you’s in between.

Aemond’s own heart was beating out of his chest as they finally pulled away from one another and he helped her into her seat before taking his own next to her, never letting go of her hand - not even when they began to eat, opting to do it with his left hand instead, and certainly not as his sweet wife moved from her own seat into his lap, playing with his hair and telling him just how wonderfully he had done.

If you asked anyone who crossed paths with the Prince and Princess that night, they’d tell you that never before had they ever encountered two individuals looking so shamelessly in love. They’d express their shock as they witnessed their Prince, the fierce rider of Vhagar, laugh freely with his lady wife with his arm firmly wrapped around her waist and the Princess’ hand rubbing up and down his back.

As the Prince once again encountered Ser Steffon, he greeted the guard with a slightly more reserved smile than his wife received and instructed him to have a good night while he ushered his giggling wife inside. Once they were out of sight Ser Steffon let out a small chuckle of his own before walking a few paces down the hall, away from the door.

As the very smitten couple climbed into bed the Prince once again asked his sweet wife if everything met her standards to which she simply pulled herself up and decided on showing him how pleased she was instead - but not before ensuring the punishment she decided on earlier was carried out.

[oceaneyesinla]

This idea appeared in my brain in the shower and I think it's ADORABLE. Shoto just brings out the cuteness aggression in me

Shoto x gn!Reader

A knock at your dorm room door distracts you from your book, but when you open it, you're met with beige walls and blue carpet, neither of which are known for their ability to knock on wood. This has happened a fair few times in the last month , and that knowledge prompts you to look down.

You can't help your pleased little smile when your hunch is proven correct. Sitting neatly in the doorway is a bunch of pretty flowers wrapped up in blue plastic. They're your favourite, just like always, and they've arrived just in time - like clockwork, just as the old ones are beginning to wilt, a new bouquet appears. There's differences every time, but whatever extras have been added, your favourite flower is always there.

There's a distinctive amateur feel to the way the bouquet is wrapped up, and it endears you to your secret gifter even more. It's clear how much time and effort is going into this gesture, in more ways than one. Someone listened to you, when you rambled about the flower patch in your childhood garden, the one you tended alone while your brother trained with your parents to become a hero. Someone remembered you fondly reminisce about pretty leaves and bright petals, and decided to make you smile.

You crouch down to pick up the flowers, and there's a note tucked amongst the blooms, just like every other time. It's never signed, and it's always so blunt and honest that it circles right back round to being charming. Whether it's complementing your sunshine smile or praising you for your latest training success, it never fails to make your cheeks heat up. You keep them all, tucked away in the drawer underneath where you display your flowers.

Your admirer is making a valiant effort to keep their identity hidden, and you find it adorable - mostly because you figured it out as soon as you saw that first note. He forgot that you know him as well as he knows you. The way he writes his characters is ever so slightly clumsy; he spent a lot of time teaching himself to write - Endeavour more interested in teaching him to fight than to live - and there's a couple of little details that make his handwriting distinctive. Plus, you're shared a class with him for three years; you've seen his writing more times than you can count.

There's a flash of red out of the corner of your eye, and you press your lips together to hold back a giggle. He may be a nearly graduated Hero course student, but he's not very sneaky. He doesn't usually stick around to see your reaction to his creation, instead listening intently from his desk as you gush about them to Momo.

Your eyes widen as your eyes scan over familiar script, and now you know why he's loitering - Todoroki Shoto is asking you on a date. You read the words three times, and pinch yourself for good measure. Part of you is surprised - he knows all your darkest moments and he's choosing you anyway? - but a bigger part of you knows this was inevitable. You've been gravitating towards each other since first year, and honestly, you've been driving your classmates mad.

An almost painful grin stretches across your face as you straighten up, "Sho? Come here."

He obeys almost immediately, emerging from around the corner to stand in front of you. The cautious hope glittering in his eyes makes you want to squish his cheeks and boop his nose and you feel giddy when you remember that yes, you'll be able to do just that. No more hiding the urge to hold his hand or kiss his cheek when he remembers your favourite snack or brings an extra hoodie to movie night just in case you get cold.

Maybe you're getting ahead of yourself. You still haven't actually given him an answer, and he's starting to worry, his bottom lip pushing out into a little pout. You can't take his sad face any longer - you reach out and grab his hand, infinitely entertained by the immediate red flush that spreads across his cheeks.

"Of course I'll go on a date with you. How about this weekend?"

"Okay." His smile is reflecting yours like the moon reflects the sun, and oh, he might be the prettiest person you've ever met.

He lifts your hand and shyly drops a kiss to your knuckles, looking up at you through unfairly long lashes. Now you're blushing as well, heat pooling in your cheeks as he lets your hands fall back between you. Neither of you let go, and you make an impulsive decision - after all, Shoto was brave enough to take the first step; the least you can do is meet him where he is.

"Actually, I'm free right now. We could go and get dinner?"

Your bravery is instantly rewarded with another devastatingly beautiful smile, "Yeah, I'd like that."

[why-the-heck-not]

I made a Fable account!! Saw someone mention it here and been looking for something other than goodreads (bc I want a fresh start with that; it’s so full of things I barely remember reading/wanting to read). My @ is fully_booked (got the same pfp there as I do here) if anyone here is interested. I wanna try actually writing some sort of reviews (tho a fair warning: I’m bad at it)

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread

The Dragon of Ynys

quiet fairytale adventure novella

a knight in a small village who spends most of his time returning various items a local friendly dragon steals, ends up on a quest with the dragon and a baker to find her wife who went missing after an argument

aroace MC, sapphic and trans major characters

[misserabella]

two geniuses (playing love)

masterlist!

synopsis; feelings flourish in between the two of you as you’re forced to act as a couple. could a kiss finally let the two of you understand what was really going on underneath your supposedly hatred? you’re scared to find out.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!!, guns, shots being fired, girls being bitches, bickering, lots of teasing, so much flufffffff, spencer and reader being confused, pining, neck kisses, making out (their first kiss!!), violence, guns, shots being fired, spencer gets flustered a lot, also gets a boner… (so much more that i probably can’t remember)…

“so what do we know about this unsub?” hotch asked, all of you were sitting on the police station around the table, trying to understand this killers motive.

“well, we know his killings evolve around y/n.” morgan stated the obvious, to what you sighed.

“stalkers may exhibit a range of psychological issues, including personality disorders such as narcissistic personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and delusional disorders like erotomania. stalking behaviors can also be influenced by insecure attachment styles rooted in childhood experiences.” spencer added, and you nodded.

“erotomania is a delusional disorder that makes a person believe the person of their infatuation hace reciprocated feelings or love and affection, when they don’t. it may even be a person they’ve never met. they might even be famous, like a politician or an actor. people with this disorder can be so sure of this love that they think they’re in a relationship with this person. they may not be able to accept facts that prove otherwise. it is also called de clérambault syndrome, and it’s rare. it can happen on its own. but it’s usually linked to another mental health condition, like schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. it can last for weeks or years.” you recited as if you were reading it off of a book.

“you two are like an encyclopedia.” emily smiled, chuckling.

“so this killer will go to the extreme of killing for you if needed.” jj nodded.

“seems like it.” you answered.

“he also seems pretty possessive and protective of you. he seems to have noticed spencer too.” morgan pointed out.

“you think he might think we’re dating?” you inquired with disbelief.

“it would play to our favor. if our profile around him is right, he might not be able to control the need to stay quiet about it and take action.” gideon said, what made you scoff.

“so what now? we should hold hands and act like a happy couple? fuck no.”

“y/n.” hotch scolded you.

“i’m sorry but that’s not gonna work. if none of you have noticed, spencer and i don’t really get along.”

“shocker!” emily sarcastically said, to what you squinted your eyes at her.

“come on guys… i can’t be the only one who doesn’t see this working out.” you tried to make up their minds and spencer pitched in.

“yeah. and to be honest i don’t want to become the unsub’s new target.” spencer pointed out.

jj stepped in. “it's true that your relationship has been strained, but you're both intelligent individuals. i’m sure you can put aside your differences to sell this lie. it's not about whether or not you like each other; it's about stopping this unsub at all costs." you listened to her words, groaning. she was right. you needed to stop acting like children and work together to catch this unsub.

you looked at spencer, who was already looking at you, communicating with a nod.

“you’re right.” you sighed at jj. “i guess it’s the only way, huh?” you gave in.

hotch stepped in, a flicker of relief crossing his face. "good. now, let's think through the details. we need to create a plausible backstory for your relationship, make sure your body language and interactions are believable, and be prepared for any curveballs the unsub might throw at us. this isn't going to be easy, but I have faith in both of you, and I know you can make this work." you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“how should we… how should we act around each other?” you inquired, cringing internally.

rossi answered “for your relationship to appear authentic, you'll need to display a certain level of intimacy and affection.”

“holding hands, touching each other frequently, being in close proximity… you can't come across as distant or awkward, as that would immediately raise suspicions.”emily added.

“you need to convince the unsub that you're truly in love with each other." jj finished and you scoffed.

“well that’s gonna be easy…” you sarcastically said, bracing yourself for what’s about to come.

-

his hand is warm, big engulfing your own. and clammy. spencer is nervous, awkward, you can feel it as you two walk through the beach, the light breeze hitting your skin, the salt engulfing your lungs.

you two have not said one word since you’ve left the headquarters, not on the way back to the hotel, or when you moved your things into his room, or on the way to the beach…

silence. total and absolute silence.

this was your new reality. to play fantasy with the person you hated the most. to act as if only love was what stood between the two of you and not this immense hatred that gnawed at your insides.

“did you know that by the amount of germs a hand holds it’s actually safer to kiss?” he asks, and his voice sounds hoarse by the silence he has buried himself in.

you hummed. “does that mean you’d prefer me to kiss you instead or hold your hand?” you asked, and he choked.

“what? no! no, what i meant is… i just…” you chuckled.

“relax, reid. it was a joke. i want to kiss you as much as you want to kiss me.” you rolled your eyes. “you’re so tense that whoever saw you would think im holding you hostage and making you hold my hand.” he scoffs.

“sorry. it’s just… awkward.”

“tell me about it…” you sighed, leaving your beach bag down onto the sand. “i think this might be a good spot.”

“for what?” he inquired, letting go of your hand.

“we’re supposed to be on a date, reid. doing things a couple does. you know… watch the sunset, spend time together… all of that.”

“oh.” he muttered. “yeah. that makes sense.” he nodded, watching you take out a couple of towels to spread them across the sand.

“gonna help me or stand there watching?” you chuckled, and he quickly moved to help you, muttering a ‘right, sorry’ that made you laugh internally. who’d know spencer could act like this? embarrassed and coy in front of you?

then he sat, book in hand. of course. “seriously? you’re gonna read right now?” you inquired him and he looked up at you.

“why not? the beach is one of the most relaxing places to read.” he shrugged, and you shook your head, pulling from your beach dress to get it off, leaving yourself on a blue bikini.

his eyes trailed down your sun kissed skin, the sun was setting, giving you a golden hue that made you shine.

“come with me.” your words took him out of his mind, his eyebrows raising as you offered him your hand. “come on.” he seemed suspicious, but again, he had to trust you if this lie was gonna be bought. and so he took your hand and got up. he tried not to think about the fact that your body was mostly exposed, and about the feeling of your soft smaller hand on his bigger one.

you let him go once he was up on his feet, and he took off his shirt, leaving him on his swimwear.

“so i wasn’t actually hallucinating it the last time… where were you hiding that?” you teased him, looking at his soft but toned body. he rolled his eyes.

“stop looking at me.”

“why? does it make you nervous?” you rose your eyebrows. “do i make you nervous, spencer?” you leaned in and he took a step back.

“no. i just don’t like it.” his nose scrunched up and you hummed.

“yeah, right.” you rolled your eyes, giving him your back to start walking towards the shore.

“no. really.” he followed you with a frown, feet fast behind you.

“it’s okay, spencer. your little crush on me it’s cute.”

his eyes widened. “what?! i don’t have a crush on you!”

your feet met the water and you walked in. you heard his splashes behind you as the water met your knees. it was just the perfect temperature.

“you’re dumb.” you said while facing him once again. and he gave you an incredulous look.

“i’m not dumb! why would i be dumb?”

“because of this.” and with a quick movement you were maneuvering him into the water, leaving him splashing your thighs and tummy. you laughed at his glare and shocked expression, his pretty hair now mildly soaked. “god. reid. it’s the second time this happens to you. you don’t learn!”

“you think this is funny, do you?” he asks you, looking up at you.

“definitely.” you nodded, still chuckling, your chest heaving up and down with ragged breathing.

“yeah?”

“yea-“ but before you could finish he was grabbing your hand and pulling you down into the water with him. you froze as you fell on his lap, water splashing around the two of you.

“well, check who’s in the water now, huh?” he was laughing at your shocked expression and damp face before he noticed the position in which the two of you were in, his laughter dying quickly enough.

his eyes met your body, wet in droplets that slid down your chest and navel towards your hips submerged in the water and on top of his. he swallowed at the feeling of your soft weight on him, the swell of your chest right in front of his face, centimeters away from his lips. the curve of your neck… your hair falling over it and down your collarbones… the warmth of your hands on his shoulders, the softness of the skin of your hip under his unconscious grip.

you looked down at him. at his messy hair that had started curling due to the salt, at his thin yet toned build, his heaving chest, his sharp jaw, his hazel puppy eyes, his long lashes… the way he was now looking at you…

“uhm…” he cleared his throat. and the spell in between the two of you broke. you shook your head.

“i should probably…” you pointed at your back, trying to gesture that you should get up, and he nodded, pulling his hands away from your body.

“yeah. yeah.” he nodded, and you used him for leverage to get back on your feet. it was awkward. the tension in between the two of you as he too got back on his feet, neither of you looking at each other. the sun was setting.

“i think i’m gonna… go read.” you nodded.

“yeah. okay. i’ll… i’ll meet you there.” he copied the shaking of your head, and after a couple of seconds in silence he staggered in turning around and getting out of the water. you only went in deeper, submerging your head under the waves, where there was no noise, and no thoughts clouding your head. no doubts. although you could still feel the vivid heartbeat of your heart, crashing harshly against your ribs.

spencer tried to focus on his book, but as much as he’d like to not admit it, his eyes were zeroed on you.

-

“okay…” you hummed. “ursa minor.” you pointed at the sky.

the sun was long gone, and yet, spencer and you still were on the beach, lying on your towels, admiring the map of stars above your heads.

spencer took his turn, pointing just a little bit far away from your constellation. “ursa mayor.”

“now that’s and easy one.” you rolled your eyes teasing him, and he couldn’t help but copy you.

“okay. what about… camelopardalis?” he pointed it out in the sky and you hummed.

“now you’re just showing off.” he groaned.

“oh, so now i’m showing off?” he smirked and you nodded.

“yeah, come on. you could have just pointed out draco. instead you chose camelopardalis? you’re a show off.” he chuckled.

“okay. maybe i just wanted to shut you up.” he shrugged and you laughed.

“now, that’s not easy.”

“tell me about it.” he mumbled. “hey look. it’s saturn.” he pointed it out, it shining more than a normal star.

“and mars.” you said, pointing it out as well.

“and dwarf planet 1 ceres.” he added and you looked at him with your eyebrows raising.

“you’re bluffing.”

“i’m not!”

“yes you are, reid. that planet can only be seen with binoculars. you wear glasses!”

“how do you know that?” you laughed.

“caught you!” he rolled his eyes.

“okay. maybe i memorized tonight’s sky map, so what?” you chuckled at his response.

“you’re a nerd.”

“yeah? well so are you. what’s your iq, 170?”

“177.” his eyes widened. “what?”

“i mean. i knew you were intelligent. but we almost share the same iq. that’s… that’s impressive.”

“was that a compliment, doctor reid?” you smirked.

he shook his head with a smile, scoffing. “no.”

“it was though.”

“it wasn’t.”

“it totally was.” your bickering caused him to laugh.

“you’re insufferable.” he groaned, and you smiled.

“i know.” you two rested in silence, looking at the sky. “this isn’t so bad…” he looked at you. “i mean, sure. i don’t like you. and acting as your girlfriend totally sucks, believe me. but i thought it would be worse.” he hummed.

“you have a way of complimenting someone and at the same time insulting them that is fascinating.” he said, and you chuckled. “by the way… what time is it?” you took your phone.

“almost one am.” you answered his question.

“we should probably get going.” he muttered and you rose your eyebrows.

“you want me back into your bed so soon, reid?” he scoffed.

“you really like to assume those kinds of things. in the end i’m gonna start thinking you’re the one who wants me in your bed.” your eyes widened.

“fuck no!” you said while getting up from the towel, and he smirked up at you.

“you sure?”

“of course i am.”

“then why are you avoiding my eyes?” he got up to stand beside you, a smirk on his face. you wanted to punch it out of him.

“i’m not.” you scoffed.

“but you are.” your skin rose in goosebumps as he stepped closer, your breath hitching when he took your chin and made you look up at him into his hazel eyes. the moonlight made them shine. and for a moment you forgot that he was teasing you, playing with you.

“i don’t want you in my bed.” you said, straight into his eyes, pushing away his touch. he smiled.

“okay. i’ll believe you.” you looked away from him as he started gathering his things and put on back his shirt. you wondered why your cheeks were burning. why your heart was racing.

he put your beach bag over his shoulder. “let’s go.” and even though your body jolted underneath his touch as he took your hand to guide you down the shore back to the hotel —and you reminded yourself that this was all part of the lie you were playing—, you let him.

-

“how are our lovebirds?” garcia asked through the phone and you rolled your eyes.

“would be better if you’d catch this guy now…” you said, and heard snickers from the other part of the line.

“he’s behaving, isn’t he?” morgan inquired and spencer frowned.

“what?! what do you mean behave?” you shushed him.

“he’s not being so bad… usual reid.” morgan laughed. “any news on the unsub?”

“actually, yeah.” jj said. “we caught him lurking on the beach you guys visited, but he was far from our reach. seemed pretty angry.”

“so he’s getting closer…” you nodded.

“he seemed to buy into the lie of the relationship.” spencer hummed and you nodded.

“you guys need to keep it up. if our profile is right he will not stand still and watch, he’ll confront the two of you soon.” hotch said.

“alright. we will.” you promised.

“we’ll keep in touch.” emily said before the line went dead and the two of you looked at each other.

“what should we do now?” he inquired.

“go to the pool.” you smiled and he groaned. “come on. he needs to see us.” you said while getting a bikini and entering the bathroom to get changed. once done you got out and found him with a pair of red trunks. “now that’s the spirit.” you smiled and he rolled his eyes. “come on, reid. the sun is up and shining for us. time to sunbathe!” he took some of his books and his sunglasses, following after you out of your room and though the hallways of the hotel until you two were met by happy squealing and laughter from the children enjoying their time in the pool, splashing each other.

you two took a sun lounge each, his umbrella staying open while yours stood shut as you applied tanning oil to your skin after getting rid of your shorts. spencer kept his summer sheer shirt, laying sat up straight in the sun lounge as he quickly went through the pages, reading 20.000 words per minute. you laid on your own, bathing in the warmth of the sun as it prickled your skin.

you were enjoying the tranquility until some shadows took over your sun. you peeked your eyes open to see three girls standing over the two of you, sweet smiles on their faces as they stared at your right. more like… at spencer.

“hey.” one of them caught his attention, and his hazel eyes pulled away from his book towards the blonde.

“what are you reading?” a brunette asked him next, and he stuttered just the slightest before answering.

“uhmm… anna karenina. it’s from leo tolstoy from 1878. it deals with themes of betrayal, faith, family, marriage, imperial russia, society, desire, and the differences between rural and urban life. it’s actually my second time reading it. this time in the original russian.” he spat out, babbling as the three girls listening. more like ate him up with their eyes.

“you’re cute.” the third and last girl, another blonde smiled, and spencer’s eyes widened.

“could i get your number?” the brunette inquired him and you sat up straight, slightly clearing your throat, what made them look at you. “and you are…?”

you smiled. “his girlfriend.” spencer looked at you scandalized, what almost made you laugh. “i mean i get you guys…” you said with a smirk, leaning over him, your chest pressing against his as your arms circled his neck. his breath hitched as you hummed, looking at him before looking back at the three girls that now stunned looked at you. “he’s just too cute, isn’t he?” you took his face with one of your hands, making his lips pout out. he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and widened eyes. you smiled at him, his cheeks flushing at your words and the way your body just pushed closer against his. “but he’s mine.” you crooked your head towards the girls. “so if you don’t mind…”

“actually i do mind.” the brunette said. and your eyebrows rose. “i don’t see your name branded on him.” you slowly pulled away from spencer, getting on your feet.

you smiled softly at her. spencer didn’t like it one bit. you never smiled. not like that. “what’s your name?”

“ashley.” she answered, and you saw spencer getting up get beside your from the side of your eyes as you gave her a once over, your eyes landing on her pool heels. he was cautious, he knew something was wrong. sweet intelligent spencer…

“i like your shoes.” you started, simple, and she looked confused at you. “you gonna… be able to run in those?” you inquired.

“what?” and before she knew what was happening you were launching yourself towards her. good timing spencer was fast enough to catch you in between his arms as her friends pulled her away, running from you with ‘let’s go!’s.

“yeah, that’s more like it. see you, ashley!!!” you said while fighting spencer’s tight hold on you. “bitch…” you murmured when they got lost into the hotel. he let you go when you had seemingly calmed down and stared at you.

“what was that?”

“what? she was being a bitch.” you shrugged and got back to your sun lounge.

“no. i mean. what was that?”

“reid. i’m supposed to be your girlfriend… don’t you think that’s how a girlfriend would act?” you inquired him, and he looked around, scratching his nape.

“i mean, yeah but…” you cut him off.

“then it’s settled.” you said before closing your eyes and getting back with your sun.

he stared at you, still in shock and with flushed cheeks. his mind got filled with images and moments from the last days; you in the pool the night you’d thrown him in, how you had teased him, how your lips had almost touched his, last night at the beach when you had fallen on top of him… and now… seeing you that way, had done… things to him. things he didn’t want to accept. his whole body was tense, his heart was stuttering, his eyes whole face was red, and his stomach was feeling bubbly and… well. okay. no. enough.

he cleared his throat and sat down beside you, retrieving his book, trying to dismiss the knot in his throat. he looked at you. at your slowly tanning skin, the shine it had due to the oil you had bathed yourself in, your beautiful curves accentuated by the white bikini you’d gone for today, your soft features, your long lashes, your plump lips, your soft jaw, the soft skin of your neck, your…

when his eyes dropped too low he looked away, clearing his throat.

he tried to go back to the russian, but he was flustered. after minutes of trying to get back in focus, he gave up, getting up and pulling his shirt off, what caught your attention.

“where are you going?” you inquired.

“i was gonna go for a swim.” he pointed to the pool, and you sprung up.

“i’ll join you.” you smiled, and his heart stuttered at the recurring memories of that night in the pool. let it go, spencer.

following him into the water, you sigh at the fresh feeling of it engulfing you and making your overheated skin find solace.

spencer dampens his hair, pushing it backwards in a slick manner that exposes his strong cheek bones. but it’s when you finally stop staring at him that you notice it.

his breath hitched when your arms surrounded his neck, pulling him closer, your chest pressed against his as you spun in the water.

“what are you doing?” he inquired you, his hands subconsciously grabbing your hips. to push you away? to pull you closer? who knew…

“your twelve o’ clock. i think it’s our guy.” you muttered in his ear swiftly, smiling at him as if you were absolutely smitten, playing with his hair. spencer looked just for a moment. it was a white male, in his late thirties, wearing glasses and a cap, staring straight at the two of you with clenched fists.

“he surely doesn’t look happy.” he muttered to you, pulling you closer. “looks like it might be him.” you hummed. “what should we do?”

“well you should definitely act like you love me.” you smiled, cupping his cheek. “like this…” you looked straight into his eyes, and his breath hitched. if he didn’t knew better you’d have fooled him, ‘cause you were looking at him as if you craved nothing else, no one else but him.

you almost chocked when one of his hands found your hair, his breath pressing against your neck just before his lips did. “does this work?” he inquired you, pressing another chaste kiss on the sensitive skin.

you had to come and get back your trail of thought, ‘cause he had stolen it away just that easy. it was unnerving.

“you tell me. you’re the one facing him.” you whispered, and he hummed against your skin. you had to pretend as if it y didn’t send shivers down your spine.

“he’s just staring.” he stated.

“he wouldn’t dare do something with this much people around.” you figured.

“or maybe he just doesn’t want to taint his image before you. he wants to meet you in the perfect way, perfect place, perfect time.”

“what a romantic…” you rolled your eyes.

“he’s moving.” spencer announced.

“leaving?” you inquired and he nodded, his soft stubble scratching your neck and making you shudder in his arms.

“seems like it.” once out of sight he let you go, and you looked away from his eyes, the imprint of his hold on your hips still lingering on your skin, his kisses still burning your neck.

“he won’t be able to hold on for much longer...”

you nodded, fidgeting. “i’ll… i’ll go tell the team.”

“yeah. okay.” spencer copies your shake of head, and you got out of the pool, his eyes training on your back and down your body before he caught himself staring, quickly looking away and pushing his hair back anxiously. he could still feel the softness of your skin, smell the coconut tanning oil you’d lathered yourself in, remember how right you’d feel in between his arms, taking whatever he gave you…

he sighed. get it together reid.

but he had to spend a while in the water to properly calm down before making his way back to you. this was gonna end badly.

-

dinner with spencer was easy. it was a warm night. and he looked good. with a blue button up shirt and white pants along with his brown shoes. it was easy to talk to him, even easier to let him pay and let him walk you by his hand through the hotel and into the gardens of it. it was so easy to live this lovers lie that it terrified you. the moon and stars were shining bright above your heads, and the silence that filled the distance in between the two of you was as comfortable as it could get.

that was until he was breaking it to stutter about theories of the universe. theories you already knew. but for once you decided to keep quiet and listen to his rambling, enjoying the way his eyes sparkled with knowledge, the way his lips curled into a smile with every little fact that spilled from them…your heart was hammering inside your chest. it has been since the time in the pool. you were scared he could feel your heartbeat by how tight he was holding your hand. you’d come to understand that he wasn’t that bad. sure, he sometimes could get under your skin and make you lose your temper, but spencer reid could be as soft as a feather when he wanted to, and that made it all even worse. you were used to his narcissism, to his hatred, not to his ‘love’. was this how he really was or just another lie? just another façade? you were haunted by the feelings that this side of him flourished in your body.

“there’s someone following you.” since the spotting in the pool, the team had made sure to give you an earpiece each to communicate with you in case of emergency. jj’s voice made spencer’s waver, but to play along he just pulled you closer and continued with his theories. “seems like the man you told us about, y/n.”

you two slowly stopped walking, looking at each other as he kept talking, waiting for orders.

“he stopped. he’s just… watching.” emily announced and you inquired spencer and the team.

“what should we do? he’s not gonna come to us that easily…”

“reid, kiss her.” hotch ordered and his eyes widened, breath hitching and his hold on your hand hardening.

“what? no! i’m not going to kiss her!” he whispered-yelled, completely astonished.

“the physical contact will drive him to approach you both. we’ll be right there.” morgan chirped in, trying to convince his friend, soothe his anxiety. but spencer wasn’t scared of the unsub. he was scared of you. terrified. terrified by how good it felt to have you this close, to hold your hand, to see your smile, to share time with you… he wondered if this last thing would make him crack. would make him understand that it wasn’t hatred all along. he wasn’t sure he was ready to know the truth.

“there must be another way, i-“ he tried, but you groaned at his hesitation, taking the matter into your own hands.

“for the love of god, reid.” you grabbed at his curly hair, and in a tug, you pulled him down against your mouth. he froze at first, surprised, in shock at the soft feeling of your lips against his, at the feeling of your chest tightly pressed against him. but then it all completely changes, he can’t get enough. he cupped yor face in between his warm hands and pulled you closer, until there was no space between you two, something he must hate, but only finds himself enjoying. you gasp into his mouth and he takes the opportunity to push his tongue inside, pushing you against the wall of the hotel, devouring you as if he had been waiting years for this moment. you were air. and he was drowning.

“slow down…” you breathily moan against his lips, and he groans.

“i can’t.” he confessed.

the kiss that follows is just as desperate and harsh, your tongues dancing around the other as he kisses you like you’re everything he’s ever craved. you feel him press against you, and the feeling of a bulge on his crotch surprises you.

“you seem to be enjoying this a little bit too much, reid.” you said with a smirk as you felt his growing erection pushing against your thigh to find solace, some friction, anything to make him feel better. he’s losing control, he knows. but he looks into your dazed eyes and he knows you are falling just as hard. he hopes the fall doesn’t hurt as bad as his heart right now.

“i hate you.” he muttered against your lips.

“say it like you mean it.” and before he could kiss you again, the sound of a gun being loaded sounded.

“get away from her.” a male voice filled your ears and spencer stepped away from you, leaving you cold, confused and in need of more you thought you’d never crave. “get away!” he repeated pointing at him with the gun.

“okay, okay… calm down…” he softly said, taking a couple of steps away from you.

“how do you dare touch her?!” he screamed. he seemed scattered. “nobody should touch her. she’s mine!”

“no, she’s not.” spencer said just as morgan knocked the unsub to the ground, a shot being fired, the bulled burying itself inches away from you on the wall. he was quick to reach out for you as you looked down at yourself. “are you okay?” he inquired, taking your face, inspecting it.

“don’t touch her!” the man screamed again as you nodded.

“easy!” morgan yelled as he cuffed him up.

“yeah… i’m alright.” you muttered and spencer nodded, looking right into your eyes. you could still see his flushed cheeks, and his swollen wet lips, could see traces of you left behind. you wanted to taste him again. and again. and again. until the only thing you could remember was him and his lips, and the feeling of his body pressing against you.

that night. something changes. and it scares not only your bones, but your soul as well.

-

[kairologia]

How to start your day according to your rising sign.

Your ascendant/first house represents the sign that was rising above the eastern horizon on the moment of your birth. However, within a broader cosmological framework, where houses each represent a different time of the day according to where the sun is, the First House represents the time of the day where the sun had just risen above the horizon. After a bit of experimenting, I have come to the conclusion that the best way to start your day is to align your early morning activities with those associated with your rising sign’s ruling planet. Here I explain how.

· Aries rising: start your day with a stimulating activity, something that gets you fired up and ready to engage with the day ahead. A workout session, a morning run, some stretching, or something as simple as a walk under the sun. Either way, you’d better get moving as soon as you get out of bed. Avoid getting your most challenging tasks of the day done as early as you wake up — rather, start with the simplest tasks and work your way up as a form of motivation.

· Taurus rising: take as much time as you need to get up. You have your entire day ahead of you, so make sure your morning remains a leisurely time — though I advise you to write a list of tasks down to make sure you have a roadmap of your day planned ahead. No matter how busy things get, make sure you at least start your day with a generous breakfast while enjoying your surroundings by eating in a balcony or somewhere you feel cozied up and relaxed. Investing in a morning skin care routine that works for you can only prove to be beneficial.

· Gemini rising: immediately engage in some mental stimulation. read a few chapters of a book, listen to a podcast, read some news, watch a video. Hell, even scrolling through social media wouldn’t hurt. Give your brain some much needed dopamine shots to get it going. If you’re learning a new language, try to memorize a couple words every morning. If you’re a student, try to study a bit right after waking up. If you have some manual tasks planned, get them done first thing in the morning.

· Cancer rising: schedule your morning routine around moon phases & transits. There are certain lunar transits (cardinal signs) or phases (new moon) where I would recommend starting your day with a workout and energy demanding activities, whereas on other transits (fixed signs) or phases (full moon), I would recommend taking things one step at a time, waking up gently, having a warm cup of your favourite drink, taking a bath, cooking, doing some gardening, and enjoying a relaxing morning before starting your day.

· Leo rising: Make sure that each morning is «you» time and let nothing get in the way of that. Soak up some sun light, start your day with positive affirmations, do 10 minutes of dancing, listen to music, meditate, draw a bit. Get yourself in the mood where you feel most confident and yourself, as there’s one watching you — you’re performing for no one but yourself. Self-care can mean many things and you need to find the form that works best for you. If you enjoy doing make up, do a creative look. If you like reading, read. You can even adapt your morning routine according to the sun’s transits.

· Virgo rising: it goes without saying that starting off your day with some journaling, list making, intention setting, tidying your place up and task planning can prove to be globally beneficial for everyone, but even more so for Virgo risings. You need as much mental stimulation as Gemini risings, if only with some added structure to it. Put yourself in the right mood where you can be productive instantly, get your tasks done starting with the most difficult ones so you'll have the rest of entire day for yourself, and remember to take breaks. It’s still early in the morning, after all!

· Libra rising: your mornings set the tone for the rest of your day — so make sure your day starts off on a harmonious note. Create a classical music playlist & play it every morning, have a nice breakfast – a nice drink and your favourite treat, do some pilates, read a couple page of a book you love, set your intentions for the day, do some bird watching, take a walk in a nearby green space or riverside and enjoy the aesthetics of nature & the scenery, choose an elegant outfit and pair it up with some jewelry & a nice perfume. Harmony is a balanced act that can easily be disturbed so make sure you keep your mornings free of external disturbances.

· Scorpio rising: you will benefit from starting your day gradually, & at a very measured pace. Try to weed out the eventuality that unexpected disruptions may arise (as that might disturb your inner balance & emotional state) by establishing firm boundaries and prioritizing activities that bring you joy & contentment. Any activities that promote focus, introspection, and empowerment would be great — namely journaling, meditation, deep breathing exercises to center yourself, or a 30 minutes workout session. If you enjoy writing, write down your feelings in the form of prose or poetry. Lists will also help you stay structured throughout the day & ensure you won’t spend it entirely inside your head.

· Sagittarius rising: start your day by doing some manifestation. Pick a method you prefer, and make sure you spend at least 5 minutes manifesting and setting intentions for the day ahead, as well as some long-term goal you’re working on. If you’re into philosophy, read a few pages of a philosophical book of your choice first thing in the morning. If you enjoy language learning, spend ~30 minutes learning new notions teaching yourself a full lesson. Drawing or making a moodboard can also help you manifest for the day. A morning walk where you take in your surroundings will also help you get into the right mood.

· Capricorn rising: buy a planner, and start your mornings by writing down your to-do list. Make sure you also have a couple pages dedicated to short term projects, and long term projects — try and check out a case from either every so often, every morning. Doing so will fill your mornings with intention as you will feel like you did something great for yourself (and you did indeed). And as is the case with every other cardinal signs — include a physical activity into your mornings. A 15 minutes run, a 30 minutes walk — whatever you deem best.

· Aquarius rising: write down your dreams & ideas fresh out of bed. Your mind comes up with the best scenarios & concepts early in the morning, so write them down — you never know, maybe one day you’ll find the resources, energy or will to expand on one of them. I have noticed that Aquarius risings come in two fixed archetypes, the type that enjoys socializing fresh out of bed and the type that needs 3 business hours before being able to utter a single word to others – so my advice is simple: if you’re the former: start your day with some socialization, text your friends, post on social media, and if you’re the latter: put your headphones on, read something (anything) and block out any and all external noise.

· Pisces rising: the transition from the realm of dreams to the waking world is a tougher challenge to you than most, so try to start your day slowly and gently. No abrupt and aggressive tasks, no strong drinks, no heavy food. Pressure is of 0 benefit to you so do not put yourself in your “awake” mode until you’re about to go outside. If you’re working on an art piece, draw some of it right now. If you’re writing a book, write down a couple lines as soon as you leave bed as your dreams might provide some extra insights & creativity you wouldn't be able to conjure up while awake. If you have plants, water them. If you have a balcony or garden, spend some time there just sitting & doing absolutely nothing.

If you’d like a reading, more details can be found here!

Have a nice day!

[yelenasdiary]

Hiii

I saw your requests say open, but I know you're struggling with motivation to get content out so absolutely no pressure for you to do this.

I'd really love a Wanda x diabetic!reader shot where reader isn't looking after themselves very well and isn't checking their blood sugar. They've been feeling bad the last couple of days and keep trying to sleep it off. They end up having a seizure due to their bloods being so low and Wanda gives a stern but needed talking to.

Again, no pressure for you to write this but it'd be strongly appreciated. Thank you :)

Feeling Low

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Diabetic! Avenger! Reader (Platonic)

Summary: After having a seizure due to ignoring your low blood sugar, Wanda gives you a much needed talking to. 

Angst, Comfort.

Warnings: Mentions of Low Blood levels, Reader has a Seizure| 0.8K

AC: Thank you for sending this, please note that I am not diabetic, so I only write this based off research. If I have said anything wrong, please don’t hesitate to let me know so I can come back and fix it. I hope you enjoy this x 

Since the last mission was a bust, you swore to better yourself for the team. You worked harder in the gym, harder in training, longer making sure that mission reports had every single detail you could remember. On top of all of that, you’ve had little to no time for yourself. If you weren’t working on yourself, you were helping the young avengers with training and any other things they asked for. 

All this overworking yourself caught the eye of everybody in the team but especially Wanda. She’s your closest friend, how could she not notice the signs before anybody else? She has always kept an eye on you because you have always been there for her when nobody else was and being an Avenger has its risks. 

During the week, you started to feel unwell. You thought it was just all the extra work you’d been giving your body but the more you tried to sleep it off, you never felt better. You made your way downstairs to get yourself a bottle of water when it hit you. Your seizure took over and you fell to the cold floor. Your body moved uncontrollably, Wanda rushed to your aid, yelling out for help as she gently moved you, so you were laying on your side. Natasha called for medical who wasted no time rushing to help. 

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, you were tired, and your body ached. Wanda was sitting beside your bed in the medical bay reading a book you could barely read the title of. “What happened?” You asked in a soft mutter, your mouth felt dry. Wanda looked up at you, placing her book down after placing her bookmark on her current page. 

“You had a diabetic seizure” she replied. 

“W-what? No, I couldn’t have” you frowned, “I always check my levels” you added. 

“It seems like you haven’t been checking them for the last few days” Wanda lent forward, placing her hand on top of yours, “you’ve been working yourself to the ground to prove yourself when you don’t need too” she added. 

You shook your head, wanting nothing more than to avoid the conversation, “I must have just gotten busy and forgot” you argued, beating yourself up on the inside for letting this to happen. Wanda sensed that you weren’t in the mood to talk about your health right now and she didn’t want to push you. “Get some rest, you need it” she smiled softly reminding you just how tired you were. 

----

The next day, after you were discharged from the medical bay, you found Wanda waiting by your room. “Is everything okay?” You asked, opening the door to your room.

“We need to talk” Wanda replied, following after you and closing your door behind her. “Wands, you don’t need to give me the talk” you sighed. 

“I do” Wanda said sternly, “I need you to understand how important this is. This isn’t just another seizure or a mistake, Y/n” she added. You could hear the concern and worry in her tone as you turned to face her. 

“You’re my closest friend. I can’t lose you, okay? I’ve seen a lot of things but seeing you like that and there was nothing I could do? It broke me. I know you have this need to prove to us that you didn’t mean for that mission to go bust but ignoring your health and blood levels isn’t going to do that. We all love you; we know that what happened wasn’t your fault. Nobody is beating you up about it but yourself and I won’t allow you to do this to yourself. 

I will help you with whatever you need, you know I will. But I need you to promise me that you’ll take better care of your health. I don’t mind if you need me to remind you to check your levels or take your insulin, damn I will even follow you around with a stash of bananas if I need too” she added. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her last comment, your smile also bringing a smile to her lips. “I’m sorry I worried you” you replied, “I guess you’re right. I got carried away with work that I didn’t stop to think about myself, and I promise from now on I won’t let my levels get so low again” you added before embracing Wanda into a tight hug. You she needed it just as much as you did, she hugged you back just as tight. 

“I love you, please don’t forget that either” she said softly. 

“You literally just threatened to follow me around with a stash of banana’s, how could I not love you?” You replied as you both pulled away, causing you both to chuckle. “Have you checked your levels today?” She asked. 

“Yep! Wasn’t allowed to leave medical unless I had” you smiled. 

“Good, so they did listen to me” Wanda smirked.

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[seoulmatez]

୨♡୧ SWEET POTATO — iwaizumi hajime x f!reader. sfw. fluff. reader is pregnant.

“you know, i’m perfectly capable of going to the grocery store on my own,” you tell iwaizumi, lingering a step behind him as he walks down the aisle, scanning the items neatly lined up on the shelves. he only hums in acknowledgement. you click your tongue in mock annoyance because, despite your resistance to his assistance, you don’t mind having him around. still, you’re not used to being coddled like this. “being pregnant doesn’t mean i can’t walk. my feet aren’t defective.”

“just hush and let me help,” hajime speaks, resting one hand on the top of your head while the other reaches for a bag of brown rice. the weight on your head is comforting, a reminder of why iwaizumi is really here. ever since you read the positive test and the man who was meant to be with you walked out, iwaizumi, your best friend, stepped up and became your lifeline—attended all of your appointments, started reading baby books in his free time, calmed you down whenever you were feeling overwhelmed. he made sure you weren’t making this journey alone.

“can i at least push the cart?” you attempt to negotiate. you may not mind having him here with you, but you’d be lying if you said that following him around while he did all the work wasn’t getting boring. “wouldn’t it be safer to have something in front of me in case i trip?”

“how could you trip?” he asks, more humor in his voice than usual. “you just told me that your feet work fine.”

you groan at the way he twists your words, hands coming up to unconsciously rub at your belly. it’s become a habit of yours, caressing the steadily growing bump whenever you’re stressed or bored. it gives you something to do and floods you with an immeasurable amount of contentment.

“oh, congratulations, dear.” you turn at the sound of a frail voice. an elderly woman on the opposite side of the aisle looks at you through squinted eyes, a gentle smile pulling at her lips. you figure she’s referring to your stomach.

“thank you.”

“how far along are you?”

“eighteen weeks.” you smile. iwaizumi intently watches your interaction—the way your eyes light up and how your hands protectively cradle the little bulge. “this little one is the size of a sweet potato.”

the fruit and vegetable comparison was always a little silly to you but it came in handy during moments like these. this specific week actually helped you remember something that slipped your mind while you were making the list of items you needed.

“oh!” you snap and point at iwaizumi. “that’s what i forgot earlier. i’m going to go grab a few.”

“hold on, i’ll-” your hand shoots up, palm out, to stop him from finishing his sentence—one that you’re positive would include him insisting on joining you.

“hajime.” you’re more than grateful to have someone to lean on but at this rate, you’re going to forget how to live as an independent being. “i can walk a couple aisles down and bag some vegetables on my own.”

“right,” he curtly nods, “i’ll stay and wait for you here.”

you hurry off to grab the sweet potatoes your obstetrician recommended adding to your diet and leave iwaizumi to aimlessly shift back and forth on his feet.

“you must be excited.” the familiar voice catches the man’s attention, leading him to face the nice old woman.

“i’m sorry?”

“about becoming a father,” she clarifies.

his lips part in understanding and he nods. there’s no harm in letting one woman neither of you will see again think that he was the baby’s dad. it happened quite often but you always brush off the assumptions by jokingly saying “i wish.” it’s never bothered iwaizumi��people’s first thought being that he was the father or the fact that you corrected them. he expected as much when he offered a helping hand. what he didn’t expect was that his heart would jump every time he heard any variation of the word. he kept that to himself, though.

the woman slowly approaches iwaizumi and places a soothing hand on his arm. he has to look down to meet her eye but when he does, he’s met with nothing but warmth. her eyes crinkle with her smile. “i’m sure you and your wife will be great parents.”

she continues down the aisle, leaving iwaizumi with her words. his arms rest on the handle of the cart as the woman’s statement echoes in his head. parents. at the moment, hajime’s a support system—driving you around on errands and helping with chores around the house. the two of you haven’t discussed what his role will be after you’ve given birth, but, despite that, he knows he wants to be there for you and your baby every step of the way if you’ll have him.

“i’m back and bearing potatoes,” you announce your arrival, dropping the vegetables in the cart. your gaze falls to iwaizumi who’s staring ahead, his eyebrows knit together in deep thought. you reach out to smooth the crease between his brows with your thumb. “what’s wrong with you?”

“nothing.” what’s on his mind is a conversation better had not in a supermarket. “come on. let’s wrap this up and get you home for lunch.”

“gosh, you sound just like a dad,” you comment through a laugh, hooking your arm around one of his.

like clockwork, iwaizumi’s heart skips another beat. it feels different this time; he figures it’s because you’re the one who said it.

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[blamebrampton]

Books talk to each other. Mostly because practically every writer is also a voracious reader, but also because books arise out of times and places and we share a lot of our worlds these days. So it’s unsurprising that several novels I have hugely enjoyed over the past few years share the theme of the antiheroine who is past all giving of the fucks. Naomi Novik’s powerful dark sorceress kept on her own tight leash in the Scholomance books was a joy to follow; Xiran Jay Zhao’s Iron Widow slashed her way into my heart and now Sarah Rees Brennan’s Long Live Evil has added to a list of beloved antiheroines that probably started for me with Becky Sharp in Vanity Fair.

Coincidentally, when considering how to describe Long Live Evil without significant spoilers, I realised that it shared several major themes with Vanity Fair. Young woman unfairly treated by fate decides to embrace her slut era to survive a war zone – both very accurate and wildly inaccurate for both. LLE opens with main character Rae in a hospital bed, teasing her sister about a book series they both adore. Rae is taking refuge in the story they have shared over years because it is one of the few things they have left: she is losing her fight against cancer and has been losing parts of her life, family and memory as that fight has progressed.

My personal hospital experiences have all been to do with major traumas rather than illness, which I vastly prefer because if you don’t die in the first couple of days, you usually start mending and you can immediately make plans to make the best of whatever you’ve broken. Rees Brennan, however, famously wrote a very funny, very horrible, ‘Kids, you won’t believe what shenanigans your girl’s been up to now, it’s only stage four Hodgkins lymphoma!’ post on her Tumblr or LJ (someone who has been hit in the head with taxis fewer times than me will doubtless factcheck that in the notes) about seven or eight years ago and then faced the very serious business of trying to live. The hospital scenes are painfully authentic, as are the stories of people who have left Rae as she slipped further out of everyday life.

For Rees Brennan, a loving family and peer group were there to hold her as close as they could. For Rae, only her beloved little sister, Alice, and Time of Iron, their favourite fantasy series, remain. They read the books together, remember adventures cosplaying and watching the musical, they wonder about the final instalment; for Rae it’s a joy she can still share (even if she doesn’t remember as much as she should), for Alice, it’s her two greatest loves. When a strange woman offers a door into the world of the book and a possible magical cure to Rae, she wants it as much as she disbelieves it.

Stepping into Eyam, the land of Time of Iron, Rae finds herself in the body of a villain doomed to die the next day. No worries! She’s thought and fought her way out of worse scraps than this in her past as a head cheerleader, let alone while battling cancer. She can use her knowledge of the plot to change things! If only she remembered more of the books…

Portal fantasies are common enough, but not all play by the same rules. This isn’t Narnia, where the magical world is more real than our own, for Rae, the world of the book is nothing more a tool to get her hands on the cure. She doesn’t need to care about any of these people, they’re not real. Most of them speak in a formal language that relies on the conventions of fantasy literature (there is an ongoing, warm-hearted skewering of all Game of Thrones-esque texts running through both the story and the in-text ‘quotes’ from Time of Iron) and half the characters are known more by their descriptions rather than their names. So she will play the Beauty Dipped in Blood, with her questionable morals, impractical clothes and centre-of-balance-distorting boobs for the weeks that will pass until the cure is available. Whoever she has to shuffle in the plot to secure a place beside that cure, she will shuffle. While she’s not out to kill anyone, it’s not as though they were ever really alive. Not like her. If she has to be the villain to survive, she will be an impeccable one. The people will cheer evil on!

Obviously, little goes to plan. Rae’s illness has taught her cruelty, but she hasn’t forgotten what it is to be kind. Even as she manipulates her role into ongoing main character, she realises that’s not how anyone gets a happy ending. That’s not how she can live with herself. As she comes to think of the other people in the story as real, they become more so, both in how we read them and in how they impact the story. Rae remembers what it is like to make friends, which she never meant to, but, oh, the luxury after years of watching people slip away!

As in previous novel In Other Lands, Rees Brennan has a long list of fantasy tropes to embrace and undermine, and her deft touch with humour is as evident as ever here, but her publishers call this her first adult novel and there is a shift in tone from her previous works. Anger is more real and lasting. Consequences are more significant. Understanding is reached for, even if it’s bitter. One of my favourite things is that she lets her female characters rage, but never judges those who can’t, whether because they’re too powerless or just too tired, and her male characters are allowed to be people if they choose to be — which all but the most vainglorious do.

I hadn’t paid much attention beyond checking the release date for the book, so didn’t realise it was the first in a series. For me, it worked perfectly as a standalone novel, even with the unended threads, which would have perfectly balanced Rae’s unfinished life. That said, I am very happy to know we will spend more time with these characters in the future. I want more. I do want to know if there is a hope for Rae, if this is the fever dream of a fading life, if this is the story Alice has told to ease her sister from the world or something else. There are a dozen characters I hope for, at least three happy endings that would bring joy. But don’t wait for the next books: sink your teeth into this one and believe what it says about the importance of listening to stories rather than just falling in love with characters. Though if you find yourself cheering on Rae, or her servant Emer, the elusive Eric, Horrible Hortensia or almost any of the others, I am the last person who will judge you.

[rebel-at-heart713]

Is anyone else very impressed with how Rick Riordan basically tricked Disney into publishing books with very LGBT+ characters which sort of seems like something Disney tries to hide. (Hide meaning only tiny glimpses that they can hide easily)

What I mean by “tricking”

The Lightning Thief. Simple. All the kids are assumed cis white and straight. Only really inclusive in the way that they have learning disabilities and messy family life. And it stays that way, maybe adding some side characters that are POC, (Beckendorf being described as black but there’s not much interaction with him until The Demigod Files and Last Olympian. Maybe you could say Nico and Bianca are Italian immigrants.

Then you get to Heroes of Olympus, where out of the 7 in Great Prophecy only 3 are white, (you got Piper being Native American, Hazel is Black, Leo is Latino and Frank is Chinese-Canadian) but most are still assumed straight. Until you get Nico’s reveal in House of Hades (if I remember right)

But then….oh boy.

Trials of Apollo.

Apollo is the main character and canonically bisexual, talking about several past lovers some male some female. Even stating one of his campers mortal parent is also her father. There is a cannon gay couple. There’s a cannon old lesbian couple.

Magnus Chase

Practically cannon gay couple (one deaf), Muslim character, pan character, trans gender fluid.

Now we are getting a book that stars a gay couple.

Rick basically said to Disney, “look at these! Harmless adventure stories. Look. Locked in? Okay! POC and LGBT+ can’t say no to me now I’m selling too many books. If I go to someone else I’ll just be making them money.

I just find it very funny, but I also credit Rick with exposing me to a lot of it. Before I read these books I hadn’t seen too much of this stuff in other media.

(Also adding how in Daughter of the Deep the main character gets her period in the middle of the book and it’s treated as normal.)

[heyheydidjaknow]

Two in a row! We’re back in business! We aren’t going for three in a row but I do want to at least acknowledge that Dazai exists if we’re doing the bsd thing now.

Kindling

You were supposed to be fun.

He remembered the day he met you in that coffee shop. He had an hour to kill before a meeting. The shop was dead— the local schools had not been let out yet— and you stood behind the counter, eyes flickering from the clock on the wall above the door to the textbook in front of you. He had never been there before. He never had much reason to bother around largely residential areas before then. He had never seen you before. But you were nice to look at, so he approached the counter.

He liked the look you gave him. Cold, annoyed, almost indignant, desperate in the overblown way students often are: it took you a moment to remember your manners. You must have been new in town. “How may I help you?”

“One black coffee, please.” He smiled politely.

You straightened yourself up, not bothering to hide the way your gaze flitted between him, your book, the clock. “How much sugar?”

He blinked. “I said—“

“You’re not a black coffee drinker,” you answered dismissively, clearly distracted. “I’ve served three guys today already who asked for black coffee and then asked for cream and sugar and— no offense, guy— I’m so not in the mood to waste more of my time.” You picked a pencil from between the pages of your book, grabbing a notepad from your apron. “So, how much sugar, and how much cream?”

“Do you know who I am?”

You paused at that, giving him a once over. “No,” you said. “Should I?”

He stuck his hands in his pockets, an easy smile crossing his bandaged face. “No,” he replied. “You shouldn’t.”

You tapped your foot against the ground. “Fascinating. So—“

“May I ask you a question?” He nodded at the book. “How come you’re studying so hard at this time of day? It’s not midterm season already, is it?”

You looked down at the floor. “No.” Your brow furrowed. “Why is this your business, exactly?”

“It’s not.” He shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

You swallowed. “Huh.” Regret. “I’m sorry for snapping at you; I’m in a bit of a rush to get this stuff done.”

“What sort of stuff?”

You held the pencil between your forefinger and thumb, rolling it back and forth between them. “I’m helping a friend with a project. I owe him one, and he’s in a different time zone so my part is due in a couple hours.”

He went on his toes, peering over the register to read the textbook’s text. “Forensic pathology,” he noted. “Is your friend a criminologist?”

You shook your head. “A writer,” you explained. “He needs a comprehensive explanation of how corpses rot, and I’m the only one he knows with an understanding of that sort of thing.” You pursed your lips. “What he doesn’t know is that I’m taking this class as an elective and that I also have no idea how a corpse rots. But I can’t tell him that, because then I’d be letting him down, and he’s put so much trust in me and helped me so many times—“

He stopped you. “That’s all?” He held his hands behind his back. “Well, that’s simple enough. Most anyone downtown can tell you that.” His smile brightened. “How about we make a deal? If you pay for my drink and promise that this won’t take…” He looked back at the clock. It was an hour off. He wondered if you knew. “If you promise it won’t take longer than forty-five minutes, I can give you all the grisly details of human decomposition, with added notes accounting for weather, location, and time of day.”

The look of hesitant relief on your face brought him a sense of satisfaction he had not felt in a long time. You took a deep breath. “Sir,” you nodded, “you have yourself a deal.”

“Call me Osamu.”

You were easy. That was what first drew him to you. You had no reason to lie to him, so you did not. You had no reason to respect him, so you treated him like anyone else. The two of you— at least on the slice-of-life flavored stage the two of you played on— were equals, which he appreciated. Not many people offered him that luxury. The ones who did tended to disappear in the night for one reason or another, but you had no reason to, so you did not. Your problems were largely emotional. You stayed out of trouble. You were consistent. You were simple.

More important than your being simple, however, was the fact that you thought of him as a liar.

He remembered the conversation well. It was a Thursday. He had a couple hours before he was scheduled to help his newest apprentice train. The coffee shop was as slow as it always was and you, as always, stood behind it with a casual dismissiveness that would have gotten you beaten were you in different company. You had been in town long enough to know of the mafia— about a month— but had not yet accepted all of the stories you heard as true. You were recounting one of those stories to him, weight leaned against the counter as you described an incident regarding a teenager with phantom black limbs that could, without his so much as lifting a finger, murder a building’s worth of people in an instant.

“It’s bullshit, obviously.” You took a sip from your water. “I don’t get what they’re trying to prove; if they wanted to scare me, they’d come up with a half-decent lie.”

He did not have to smile around you— to you, he was nobody— but he did regardless. You were fun. “I know him,” he said. “I tutor him.”

You scoffed. “Yeah? What do you tutor him in?”

“Martial arts.” He took a sip from his coffee, which was thoroughly diluted with copious amounts of sugar and cream. You were right; it was bitter. “He’s not very good. He keeps trying to think of himself as a hand-to-hand combatant when he’s much more suited for support and has such a large inferiority complex that he loses all sense of strategy in exchange for a slavish need to validate his existence. In other words, he is close to useless.”

And, of course, you groaned tiredly. “Why are you encouraging them?” you asked. “You already know I know it’s bullshit; what kick do you get out of me already knowing?”

“I’m not lying,” he insisted, knowing you would not believe him. “I’ve been with him on hits before; a couple months ago, we killed thirty people in cold blood.”

And you laughed half-heartedly— as you should; to any regular person who did not know about how many bodies they had hidden, these claims were beyond ridiculous— and said, “Well, I knew the man that trained you, and I know he has a small dick, so what do you think of that?”

“I’m just glad to know he isn’t a pedophile.”

“Shut up and drink your coffee.”

He wondered what you thought of him sometimes. For the first week or so, you asked him questions, but you learned quickly that he was never going to give you satisfactory answers. You probably thought he was an ass, but you still talked to him like you would a peer, so he kept showing up. You must have thought he was a dick. He was sure that he was by your standards.

Once, on a Sunday, he had to attend a funeral. He had some time to kill before, so he walked into the coffee shop, clad in clothes nicer than what was typical, and ordered.

You looked him over. “You got a date?”

“No,” he replied, cheerful. “I have a funeral in an hour.”

You set his cup in front of him. “Oh. For someone you know?”

“My boss,” he explained. “He died the other day so we’re doing a service.”

“Oh.” Your brow furrowed, sympathy making way for confusion. “I’m… I’m sorry, but did you like him?”

He shrugged. “He was alright.”

“How long were you under him?”

He considered it. “A couple years?”

“Oh.” You nodded. “So enough time for your nonchalance to be weird. Cool.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s not as if he were my father.” He leaned back in his seat. “He was bound to get shot eventually; I’m just surprised it took this long.”

“He was what?”

“Shot,” he repeated. “In his sleep.”

You lowered your voice, looking around the cafe like someone would come out to shoot the two of you. “What,” you mumbled, “like an assassination?”

He nodded, looking around courteously. “Exactly. But it’s alright; they won’t stick around too long, I’m sure.”

“How come?”

He leaned his head on his hand. “I don’t imagine whoever did it could get very far out of the city. People are upset that he’s dead; I’m sure someone will lash out.”

You crossed your arms, swallowing thickly. “You know most people don’t speak so casually about people getting shot or whatever.”

“Well,” he shrugged again, “it happens often enough. It’s not like being formal is going to bring him back from the dead; who cares?”

“Don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you…?” You searched for the right word. “… I don’t know, shaken? He was a coworker, wasn’t he?”

He took a sip from his coffee. “Yeah.”

“So, isn’t his death a bit shocking?”

“Not really.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, actually, that’s a lie. It means I’m in line for a promotion, and I thought I’d have to wait for him to die of a heart attack for it, so I’m happy about that.”

You cradled your head in your hands. “I don’t think you get my meaning,” you insisted. “Do you not feel anything for his death?”

He set the mug down, meeting your eyes. “No,” he repeated. “I don’t.”

Your questions were simple. “Why?”

“Because,” he answered, “His death was inevitable and his life’s impact on mine was nearly nonexistent. All he did was give me orders; why would I care if he died?

You stared at him, meeting his cold, bottomless eyes with ones aflame with passion. “You sound like a serial killer,” you said.

His smile was as vacant as the rest of him. “I feel like one.”

You were fun until you were not. If asked to identify when your relationship— acquaintanceship, friendship, whatever you called it— stopped being fun, he would point to an otherwise inconspicuous Monday morning three weeks after the funeral. The two of you were splitting a cinnamon roll. It was your break and you got a discount and you had no desire to eat a whole one. You were talking about something silly— a friend of yours had broken up with your other friend— when you had stopped in the middle of a sentence to look out the window, seemingly distracted by something. Witnessing this development, he turned to look out the window too, only to see that the scene outside— an overcast sky, street populated by people rushing on their way to work— had not, in fact, changed since he last looked out the window. “What are you looking at?” he asked.

Your words were soft, eyes transfixed on the window. “I need to buy a decent camera,” you murmured. “Or write. Or paint.”

“You want to take a picture?” He looked out the window again. The scene was still the same. “Of what?”

“Leave me alone, Osamu.”

“I’m not messing with you,” he said. “I just have no idea what you could possibly be looking at.”

“Sure you aren’t.” You gestured with your fork, not looking in his direction. “You have a reputation. I refuse to indulge you in something you’ll clown on me for.”

He sighed. “You are being so over dramatic.”

You shot him a glare. “I told you my friend’s boyfriend got stabbed last week and you said, and I quote, ‘I wish I could say the same.’”

“Yeah, but that was a joke.”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny.”

He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “It’s not my fault you have a lame sense of humor,” he protested. “Why won’t you tell me?”

You peeled your attention from the window. “You wanna know what I think?” You gave him a cold smile. “I think you’re so neurotically obsessed with knowing everything that whatever joy you’ll get from knowing will be totally outweighed by the amount of pleasure I get at getting to make you squirm for once.” You stuck your tongue out. “You’re the nihilist. Suffer under the weight of your ideals, dipshit.”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “Do you seriously think I can’t get you to tell me? Is this the hill you want to die on?”

“What if it is?” You crossed your arms, mimicking his pose. “What if it was really emotionally impactful to me? What if it was literally nothing and I’m just fucking with you? What, are you going to torture an answer out of me?” Your smile grew. “I get why you do this now; this is fun.”

He huffed. “You’re such a child.”

“No, you’re just easy to read.” You reached for your drink, cradling it to your chest. “Lenin gave himself a heart attack when he came to power, you know; it’s not healthy to obsess like that.”

He crossed his arms. “It was a stroke,” he grumbled. “He died of a stroke.”

“See, like that. You have issues.” You crossed your legs. “ Maybe it’d be good for you not to know.” You covered your mouth as he leaned forward and adopted an all too familiar smile. “And so help me if you try and seduce me into telling you what I saw so help me I will laugh you out of the room.”

His face soured. He stared you down, and you stared back, unphased, because why would you not? The two of you were equals as far as you were concerned; this was how you treated your peers, and despite the fact that the two of you barely knew each other in any meaningful way, you knew him enough to know what the rules of the game he was trying to play were even if you did not know what it was called. “I could kill you,” he said. “I know plenty of ways to do it. I know how to make it hurt, too.”

And you, knowing you had won, replied, “You could, but you won’t. Who would serve you your coffee?”

The two of you stared each other down one last time. Finally– and mercifully, he liked to think– he looked away. “You win.” He tossed his hands up. “That’s all my cards.”

Your smile softened at the edges. “Good.” You sat up. “I’m not going to tell you what I was looking at, but I can tell you how to see it, if you want. That way you get to know but you don’t get to be all smug.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved you off. “Because I’m not allowed to win, right?”

“If I knew you weren’t going to try and rule-lawyer me, I would just tell you.”

“I spend too much time here.”

“You said it.” You set the fork and the cup down on the table. “Close your eyes.”

He groaned. “I am so not into meditation.”

“Is that backtalk I hear?”

“No, no,” he relented, closing his eyes. “I’m with it or whatever. Now what?”

Your voice lowered. “Breathe in.”

He inhaled.

“And out.”

He exhaled.

“Now,” you continued, “what do you hear?”

“You talking to me.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You asked.”

You huffed. “I– look, besides me, what do you hear?”

He paused, considering it. “People outside,” he said. “And the air conditioning unit. And the milk steamer.”

“Good.” He heard you sit back in your seat again. “And physically, what do you feel?”

“Isn’t this a panic attack thing?”

“Answer my question.”

He considered it. “It’s cold in here.”

Your voice was soft. He wondered how exactly this place stayed in business for how quiet it was. “What do you taste?”

“For giving someone who was just talking about flirting–”

“I have a point. What do you taste?”

He meant to say, ‘My mouth.’ What came out was, “Cinnamon and icing.”

He heard you smile. “Good. Open your eyes.”

He did, blinking at the light. You were back to looking out the window; the scene had not changed.

You nodded towards it. “Now, look and tell me what you see.”

He looked between you and the window. “A tree,” he said. “And people.”

“Look at the tree, first.”

The tree itself was, by his estimation, the same sort of tree that could be found just about anywhere in this part of town. There were fewer as the years went on, he knew– there was some government initiative to get rid of the trees on the side streets– but the tree itself was unextraordinary. “It’s dead,” he noted.

Your eyes didn’t leave the window. “It’s overcast.” You sounded a million miles away. “The light from the sun is hitting it from the other side, so the side that we’re on is dull and dark. It’s casting a shadow on the table, on your face.”

He looked down at the table. Sure enough, in the low light, cold shadows laid across the table like faint veins.

“The people,” you continued. “What do you see in them?”

He shifted his attention to the passersby. “People going to work.”

“How are they dressed?”

“Warmly.”

“What color are their clothes?”

“Dark. Are we at the point yet?”

“Almost.” You took a breath of your own. “Now, take all of those things together, and look back out the window again.”

He did.

Nothing had changed. His heart caught in his throat.

“It’s more now, isn’t it?”

He looked back at you.

You witnessed that mundane scene with the seeming awe of an acolyte before their god. It was as though you had never seen a street or a tree or the sun before, as though you would never see it again.

With a horrifying ache in his chest, he realized that he had never seen anything quite so beautiful or enviable as you in that moment. “So,” he asked again, voice tinged with an entirely unbecoming and uncharacteristic reverence, “what are you looking at?”

“I’m not looking at anything,” you replied. “I just remembered how lucky I am to be alive, here, with you.”

He wondered if you would mourn for his indifference like he would.

[mxtxfanatic]

Everyday Means Everyday, or the Forever Honeymoon

If you're like me, you probably ended your read of mdzs going, "damn, I'm glad wangxian got to ride off into the sunset and I hope nobody dares to bother them ever again." Luckily for us, mxtx obviously agreed and set us up with a multitude of extras focusing solely on wangxian's blissful marriage. On the last day of celebrating the great Hanguang-jun's love for his (deservedly) spoiled husband, here's some scenes of excellently fluffy pampering of the fearsome Yiling Patriarch:

Wei WuXian immediately added, “Fine, I know. No walking too fast, no speaking too loud, no this, no that, am I right? Don’t worry. Now that I’m back with you, I’ll definitely be as careful as possible to not violate any of the sect rules on your Wall. As careful as possible.” Lan WangJi didn’t even think about it, “It is fine. Even if you violate them...” Wei WuXian keenly picked up, “Hm?” Lan WangJi seemed as if he finally realized that what he said wasn’t too appropriate. He turned his head to the side for a moment before turning back, his face serious, “... Nothing.”

...

Wei WuXian gloated, “With what you said, if you began to practice your arm strength ever since so young, you can do absolutely anything upside-down, can’t you?” Lan WangJi, “Mn.” Seeing his eyelids droop, almost as if he was a bit embarrassed, Wei WuXian grew even bolder in his words, “You can even do me upside-down?” Lan WangJi, “I can try.” Wei WuXian, “Hahahahahaha... What did you say?” Lan WangJi, “I can try tonight.” Wei WuXian, “...”

—Chapt. 114: Banquet Extra, exr

However, just as he was about to brave up and down the entire bowl of the weird medicinal soup all in one gulp, he suddenly realized that the bowl in front of him was already empty. Wei WuXian, “???” He couldn’t help but picked up the delicate little bowl, thinking, I did just drink one tiny sip, didn’t I? Is there a hole on the bottom and everything leaked out? But the table was spick and span, without a single trace of soup. Wei WuXian looked to the side. At the same time, Lan WangJi had his last sip of the soup as though nothing happened. After he closed the porcelain lid, he looked down, and was currently using a snowy handkerchief to wipe the corner of his mouth. But Wei WuXian clearly remembered that Lan WangJi had long since finished his bowl. He also discovered that Lan WangJi’s table seemed to be a lot nearer to his than before the banquet started. It was like it’d been shifted stealthily. Wei WuXian, “...”

...

After a disciple brought over the warm water used for bathing, Lan WangJi, who’d long since dressed himself, peeled the stark-naked Wei WuXian out of the thin blanket and carried him into the wooden tub. Somehow, Wei WuXian could continue to sleep even as he was steeped in water. Lan WangJi pushed him gently, and he’d catch Lan WangJi’s hand, kissing it both on its palm and its back, rubbing it on his cheek before he went back to sleep. When the pushing really began to annoy him, he’d whine a couple of times and pull Lan WangJi down, eyes still shut, cupping Lan WangJi’s face as he kissed a few more times, murmuring, “Good boy, stop messing with me. Pretty please? I’ll get up in just a bit. Yeah.” And with a yawn, he’d fall back asleep, clinging to the edge of the tub. Although he knew, even if the room burned down, Wei WuXian would probably find some other place and sleep, Lan WangJi still persevered in waking him up starting at five, then endure dozens of pecks expressionlessly. He brought breakfast to the Jingshi and laid it on the desk that in the past only held ink, paper, and brush, then fished the dead-asleep Wei WuXian out of the tub to wipe him clean, dress him, and tie his sashes. Only then did Lan WangJi finally take a book from the shelves and flip open to the page with the dried flower bookmark, sitting by the desk and slowly beginning to read.

—Chapt. 115: Banquet Extra, exr

Wei WuXian wanted to continue playing dead, but it seemed as if Lan WangJi opened the lid of something as a strong savor of spice overwhelmed the cold sandalwood that originally perfused the Jingshi. At once, Wei WuXian got up from the ground with a roll, “Er-gege! I’ll do everything you say for the rest of my life!” Expressionless, Lan WangJi took out the dishes from within the box and laid them on the desk. Wei WuXian gravitated towards him. The sight of the red color atop the half-a-dozen white plates made him so joyous that his eyes glowed red, “You’re too kind, HanGuang-Jun, it’s so thoughtful of you to go out of your way and bring back food for me. You can order me around no matter what you do from now on.”

—Chapt. 116: Banquet Extra, exr

As [Lan Wangji] watched Wei WuXian cling to the edge of the tub, reading the notes carefully and at times propping an elbow on the desk to write, the candlelight reflected against Lan WangJi’s eyes seemed to flicker with warmth. Although his words were rather bold, claiming he could go two more rounds and such, it was difficult for him to not feel the fatigue, having run amok in the mountains with the boys for the whole day, messed around in bed for half the night, and marked a stack of notes. After he forced himself to meticulously mark his portion, he tossed it onto the desk before sliding into the water. Quickly yet gently, Lan WangJi picked him up, wiped him dry, and transferred him onto the bed.

...

Oh, right. HanGuang-Jun, I’m out of money. Give me a bit more, won’t you?” Lan WangJi, “Simply take the jade token to withdraw the money.”

...

Wei WuXian, “... I told you to stop talking... Even if you say just one word, I won’t be able to hold myself from responding... Okay, Lan Zhan, let’s sleep. I... can’t anymore... I really have to sleep... See you tomorrow, Lan Zhan...” He kissed Lan Zhan’s neck, and indeed soon fell heavily asleep. It was all darkness and silence amidst the Jingshi. A moment later, Lan WangJi planted a gentle kiss in the center of Wei WuXian’s forehead. He whispered, “Wei Ying, see you tomorrow.”

—Chapt. 120: From Dawn to Dusk Extra, exr

[Lan Wangji] walked beside Wei WuXian, “Which one do you want?” Nothing of high quality would be sold at the small, street- side businesses. They were mostly filled with little objects that were adequately put together and looked decent from afar. The porcelain turtle that Wei WuXian got was already the best looking one out of the bunch. Wei WuXian looked around the scene. The more he looked, the more he felt that every one of them was ugly and that he didn’t want any of them, finding the decision difficult. Suddenly, he saw a stuffed donkey that was extremely ugly, so ugly that one wouldn’t even be able to ignore it when glancing across. He beamed, “That one’s good. It looks like Lil’ Apple. There, there—get that one.” Lan WangJi nodded. He stood four yards further than Wei WuXian and turned around as well. The hoop landed on it perfectly. The crowd cheered and clapped. Lan Wangji turned around to look at Wei WuXian who leaped inside with laughter and seized the donkey, carrying it under his armpit as he clapped the loudest, “Again, again!”

—Chapt. 126: Yunmeng Extra, exr

[kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit]

Male!Nefera x fem! Reader

Prompt- Nefero and the reader go to the mall to splurge on outfits and makeup

She/her pronouns

Fluff/Established relationships

Nickname for the reader- my jewel or my queen

(F/c)- favorite color

(S/f/c)- second favorite color

Edit* it's still good but it needs an update soon*

Art is not mine found it on pinterest

___________________________________________

It was a scareus Saturday the time was 9:23

Withing the De Nile home where a couple getting ready, it was Nefero and his girlfriend [Name], the two where getting ready by the vanity applying their own makeup.

[Name] was applying her lip combo and Nefero was applying the last but of contour on his high cheekbones "Any ideas for today's shopping spree date jewel?" Nefero picked up his setting spray and sprits it over his face

"Hmmm well I was hoping to get a few things maybe a new book to read tonight and a new makeup pallet but get two so we can match, how about that hon?"turning to her boyfriend and smiled at his struggle to fix his hair, she got up and grabbed his brush and got behind him "*sigh* thank you jewel. And ofcourse we xan have matching pallets it's been a while since the last two"

[Name] went through his long hair gently from the bottom up to his scalp, Nefero let out a low hum of satisfaction feeling his girlfriends soft hands on his scalp "no problem hon~" She then started a small braid from the side front downwards and added some hair jewelry  "do you have any specific color pallet in mind?"  [Name] ended decorating one braid and started one more on the other side

Nefero looked at her from the vast mirror of the vanity he stared for a minute with a quizzed look "hmmm I think we should get one with green, blue and gold tones with some shimmer in them" he puffed up his chest proudly as if it wasn't the same type he would get for them since it had his signature colors

what can he say? he loved to see her wear them on a makeup look or for clothes...maybe for underwear too

He blushed at the thought 'I should buy her a set' he chuckled lowly, snapping back to reality as [Name] finish decorating the last braid he turned getting up and holding her by the waist pressing his chest onto her's

[Name] was confused for a moment but soon placed her hand on his waist, the two looked at eachother with loving eyes "ready to go now my jewel" Nefero let go of her and grabbed her hand and with the other got their matching bags

They walked out of the house and into the limo with the sphinx bodyguards in tow

                           At the mall

The two are seen walking hand in hand with the sphinx's on each side of the couple

Ghouls stared in envy of [Name] who walked with confidence,her head held high while turning to Nefero and pointing at the shops, after a few seconds the two decide to head to a popular clothing store

Inside [Name] was fascinated to see the new trends in fashion right before her eyes, it all looked so clawsome!

Nefero turned to [Name] "Meet in 20 minutes and reunite at the dressing room, you'll try out first" the ghoul nodded excitedly and went to the racks,Nefero called from behind "Remember I'm paying!" She snickered ofcourse he would classic Nefero

                  Time skip 20 minutes

[Name] headed to the back of the store to the dressing rooms, she has 3 dresses, 2 tops for bottoms just 2 skirts, plus 3 pairs of shoes to try out

She meets Nefero and she quickly notices that he has a ton more items of clothing than her, which was to be expected from her splurging money boyfriend, don't get her wrong she would do the same but today felt like a minimal day today

She closed the distance between and kissed his cheek "Hey hon~you ready for these amazing picks I got!!" Nefero cup her face with his hands "Show me what you got my jewel" he encouraged and so the ghoul went straight to the dressing room to change quickly, so excited to show him

                        The first dress

Walking out [Name] wore a heart shape knee above the knee dress that was (f/c)  with ribbons that tied around her neck and a ribbon bow at the back with the strings going down to her knee

Nefero looked in aww at the chair he sat across from the stall, " it looks STUNNING on you my jewel!" He clapped enthusiastically "that color looks so good on you" [Name] smiled wide "thank you babe, I can't wait to wear this dress with those heels I like" she turned around and went to put the other ones

[Name] wore the other dresses that where one (s/f/c) that was tight on her skin showing her curves that made Nefero nose bleed and help up a thumbs up making the ghoul laugh harder than she ever did

The third dress was a floor length dark green dress with a slit up her thigh on her right leg, which she intentionally got for Nefero and he coincidently showed she got a suit with the same shade, that ment the next party her father needed to bring the two sons the couple could match, supper voltageus!

Next she wore the other outfits she planed with the two tops that one was a soft yellow the other a autumn orange and 2 skirts one was pencil skirt brown for the orange top and the other was a frilly white skirt for the light yellow top

 

                      On to Nefero

(A.N. I'm a little lazy so I'm not gonna describe his outfits but rest assured that he looked hot in everything)

He had gotten a whole new wardrobe just for him..well that was a little exaggerated but hey you get what I mean

It was an hour after and he was done and he looked good with everything he even had his own shirts that match my own (totally didn't get the sphinx bodyguard that was with you to tell him what you got)

           Time skip at the bookstore

[Name] and Nefero spent 2 hours at the beauty store but eventually found all that they needed and two brand new same eyeshadow pallets to match their makeup look which Nefero excitedly told [Name] that everyone will have another reminder who you are with  and to not think of you as a ghoul below him oh NO

YOU ESPECIALLY  where not below him to him you were a goddess above all else in his eyes

"Hey hon! Look at this cover!" Speaking of the goddesses here she was coming towards him with her radiant smile he looked at her with loving eyes thay was the billion time with the 5 years they've been together

"Let's see" he took it from her, it was a thriller book just like the others in her collection at her room at her parents house "it looks spooktaculas my jewel seems no matter how long we've been together there are two things that don't change about you"

The ghoul looked at him and tilted her head "and those are??" He chuckled and grabbed onto her waist and getting close to her, so close he could smell the sweet vanilla perfume she had put on earlier that made his knees weak by her intoxicating smell, he would have taken her right there but he was a man of class

" your taste in books and you're everlasting beauty inside and out that radiates every day of our life together" he spoke to her in such a sweet tone that it made her fall in love with him once more like the day he confessed

Passing the book the the sphinx next to him He cup her face with one hand and kissed her passionately their lips finding rhythm like the many time before this one and the ones to come

He parted the two where breathless he hummed lowly "your lips taste as of they where the forbidden fruit that lord me in and I let it every single time~~" he wisper into her ear making the girl flustered "thank you, now can we go? I'd like to taste you're forbidden fruit but alone if you get what I mean love" she whispers back

Nefero laughed "why ofcourse~ Let's buy those books and get out of here my queen" he grabbed your hand and kissed it gently making his way up to your collarbone as the two walked

Later on the two had a wonderful time~

_________________________________________

***Will be updating soon**

A.N.

Still not that good with smut need to practice but I'm getting good with the intimate kissing and descriptions! I think

I'll make a smut ending later on again need practice haha

Hope you liked this one

[slowcatsisland]

Nico Robin + Franky; Duo Headcanons

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Slow burn. Franky gets flustered when he thinks about how he likes Robin so he doesn’t bring it up. Robin knows, Robin feels the same way but doesn’t get the same type of ‘freeze’ flustered as he does. She’s waiting for him to confess first because Franky feels like it’s the most manly thing for him to do.

Franky builds Robin furniture for her to lounge in periodically. He also upgrades her chairs with modifications to make it more comfortable for her like adding a moving arm that brings forward her drink, etc.

Robin has gotten Franky to read a couple of books and they chat at least a couple times a week about it.

Franky is Robin’s #1 hype man when it comes to fashion or fighting. (Sanji’s in second place and not too far behind though.) Franky has a habit of building a set of stairs extremely quickly during battles for Robin to get around if she’s in heels.

If Franky is tinkering sometimes Robin will sit in his shop with him to keep him company if she doesn’t want to be out on the deck anymore. If the weather isn’t appropriate, she reads in his workshop.

Robin likes all the different hairstyles that Franky is able to with his hair but she prefers it to be the same style as when they met.

Robin is perched on Franky’s huge shoulders more often than you would think. Franky likes carrying her if the crew is traveling afoot and she doesn’t mind.

When Sanji asks her for her daily mid afternoon snack, whatever she requests is usually paired up with a cola for Franky.

Robin helps Franky with his robotic parts when he needs to upgrade or replace them with her devil fruit.

Franky’s words at Enies Lobby make Robin feel good and grateful about life; sometimes when she’s losing her motivation she recalls what he said to her.

She also commonly goes to him and soaks up his vibrant energy to feel better.

Robin likes cats, Franky has made her a cyborg cat that lives in the library below deck.

On occasion Robin will paint Franky’s metal nails with her nail polish.

Franky helps Robin with scribing all her knowledge into journals and books. She has a photographic memory and a vast collection of schema- she remembers a great deal about the books that were burned on Ohara.

Franky has been caught by multiple Straw Hats staring at Robin on deck. He doesn’t ever deny anything, he just blushes, says something stupid, and leaves as quickly as he can.

Franky has given Robin multiple massages with his little hands before. It clams her immensely and it’s a trusting, intimate act between the two of them.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your honor I dearly love them

Mwah 😽

[gor3sigil]

Little things about being transmasc and/or a trans man:

As trans men and/or transmasc, we always are told to "do better" than cis men, and at the same time to conform to the patriarchal model of masculinity (white, able bodied, strong, thin, necer show emotions etc) to be seen as men/masc.

But you have to understand that some trans men don't want to perform that type of masculinity or CAN'T altogether.

Furthermore, our sexual orientations are often weaponized against us. If we love men, we're called slurs or in more feminist spaces. we're told that we're just women with extra steps, and if we love women, we're asked why we can't just be lesbians or told that we are doing patriarchy all over again. And if you dare to identify gay, you're told that no gay men like p*ssies, and if you dare to identify as a lesbian, you can't because no lesbians like men. And that is without considering the very broad sexuality/romantic spectrum, where your transness is basically a weapon too (aromantic ? Yeah, figure, you're trans and confused. Bi ? Yeah, figure, you're trans and can't decide. Asexual ? Yeah, figure, you're trans or WORSE you're afab and traumatized and so on and so forth).

Gender nonconforming trans men/transmascs are relentlessly called trenders within the community or asked why they even bother to transition. In the outside world, we are often read as a threat and assaulted because of it. But if you are gender conforming, you'll have smirky cis women tell you how you just fantasised about being a Big Strong Man and are just matrixed by patriarchy or too traumatized to live as a woman.

Want to transition medically ? Oh, but T is a BAD hormone that does BAD thing like make you gain WEIGHT and gives you ACNE and makes you GROSS. On the weight topic I could write a book about the horrible fatphobia within the community because I kid you not, I have been a girl teen with EDs who hung out in pr* an* forums and I've seen some shit in transmascs groups and passing tips that have a real resemblance to what I saw back then. Same for transmascs/trans men fitness groups.

Don't want to transition medically ? Lol theyfab. Like so much a woman. Very lady like with a bonus of bringing the movement down.

When it comes to inside the community, we can't talk about specific issues without being shushed, intersex transmascs, and trans men face a LOT of hardships and are insulted. I remember a friend of mine who is an intersex trans man receiving death threats and got told to [redacted] himself when he talked about his experiences as an intersex trans man BY TRANS PEOPLE.

Bipoc trans men and transmascs are always confronted to the white standards of passing coupled with the rampant racism within and outside of the community.

And one thing I can not not bring up: I think a lot of people forget that we can't mourn our dead. Why ? Because these past years, transmascs and trans men have been forgotten from TDOR lists. I remember seeing Twitter threads from trans men adding them because we don't even KNOW when someone has died or they are deemed as women and the death is treated like a feminicide. And it has been a constant.

We can basically never please no matter what we do.

That's my 2 cents on the transandrophobia because I feel like it needs to be said. If you still think that trans men and transmasc individuals don't face specific issues, think again.

[walkinthrudaisies]

From Eden

castiel x fairyfem!reader

1.7k | fluff

summary: as a wood nymph, you find yourself entangled with all sorts of hunters and supernatural creatures alike. although, you did have a better liking towards angels, especially ones in trench coats.

being a wood nymph wasn’t as easy as people assumed. for starters, you hated that people categorized you with the fairies. they were lovely creatures don’t get it wrong, but you were a whole other kind of species, and you too wanted to be appreciated for your own kind of talents.

secondly, being a mystical creature as is meant you had hunters and different kinds of curious creatures on your back. you weren’t a bad person, you just wanted some peace and quiet for gods sake. on the topic of hunters, sam and dean winchester were number one on your list of people who didn’t know how to give you some alone time.

those boys always needed help with something. whether it be your magical knack for research, or even something as small as dean wanting one of your yummy apple pies. they always called on you for help, and you were starting to think that moving from your forest cottage onto the road with them might be more beneficial.

then you would remember all of your forest friends, and the uncomfortable feeling of living out of the impala and motels. that idea went out of the window after that.

today was just like any other. you woke up, walked downstairs to make your chamomile tea, and sat down on your couch to switch between watching your favourite tv show and reading your favourite book. the day was going great, it was almost one in the afternoon and you felt at peace with how calming your day had been. nothing could’ve made it any worse.

your phone going off with the specific ringtone you made for dean had you sighing. of course you had to jinx yourself, no way he was calling you with good news. it wasn’t in the winchester brothers genetic makeup. he called to tell you that him and sam had a case near your home, and that they needed to see you so that they could catch you up on everything that has happened since you three last spoke.

waiting for the two men to get to your home, you grudgingly got up and went to your room so you could get ready. by the time you were done getting your clothes on, a loud knock was heard by the door, and you knew sam and dean were here to drop a load of awful information on you.

your sock covered feet padded across the floor as the wind from the door opening blew your long white dress back. sam and dean just smiled at you, moving into your home as you closed your front door and turned around so you could face the brothers awkwardly standing in your living room.

“you guys can sit down, your making me antsy.” with that you moved to the kitchen to make them both a cup of tea, fixing the bow in the back of your hair in the process.

when the tea was ready you sat across from sam and dean on the couch, all three of you going on to discuss the problem at hand over tea and cookies you’d made a couple days prior. they informed you on all the craziness happening now that lucifer was out of his cage, and you informed them on how you planned to stay as far away from that as possible.

mid conversation, you felt an added on presence into the room. turning around, the sight of castiel by your front door had your heart squeezing in your chest and a huge smile lighting up on your face.

looking over at the winchester boys, cas didn’t leave any room for silence before he spoke. “i found out what lucifer’s plan is, him and his army are going to– oof.” his sentence was abruptly cut short as you flung yourself into him, throwing your arms around his neck as your head went into his chest. “cas! you’re here!”

it was like sam and dean disappeared all together, for the feeling of cas hugging you back and kissing the side of your head had you feeling like you were the only people alive. “of course i’m here, tulip.” castiel spoke softly in your ear. the nickname that was born from your favourite flower had you going red in the face.

a loud cough was heard from behind you two, and as you turned around — arms still latched around castiel’s neck, you saw the unamused look on dean’s face and the slightly disgusted one on sam’s. finally remembering that the brothers were still here, you unattached yourself from castiel, turning towards the two men with an awkward look on your face.

“can we get back to the problem at hand? or do you two plan on going to Y/N’s room to fuck? cause if so, sammy and i are going back to our motel.” dean’s words had a bright blush dusting your cheeks. it also didn’t help that cas’ arm found it’s way around your waist, and after dean’s words, his hand tightening ever so slightly on your stomach.

throwing one of your pillows at dean’s head, you quietly mumbled a small, ‘shut up dean’ before his laughter was heard throughout the entire house.

“if you don’t mind dean,” castiel’s voice came from behind you, sounding more hard and annoyed than before. “i’d like to continue our conversation about the devil himself being out into the world and causing immense suffering and damage.” that shut that older winchester up, and you couldn’t help but stick your tongue out at him when his eyes had met yours.

the three men continued with their conversation, your cheeks going red every time you felt cas’ arm tighten around your waist or his hand caress the front of your stomach. he always needed to be touching you in some way, rather it be holding your hand or simply touching pinkies, he didn’t care. castiel just wanted to know that you were there and you were safe.

their conversation didn’t go on for much longer, and after you bid both sam and dean goodbye, you closed the door and turned around to see your angelic boyfriend admiring the daisies you had on your coffee table.

you couldn’t help but stare at him, the slopes and plains of his face completely drawing you in. he truly was an angel, for his features and pure hurt could make flowers grow and birds sing.

walking up behind the angel, you wrapped your arms around his torso and rested your head on his back. castiel instantly softened, hands resting on the daisies petals as he allowed the comfort you provided him to sink into his pores.

after a long minute of basking in the peaceful silence, castiel turned around and gently grabbed your face, lifting it upwards so he could place a short and gentle kiss on your lips.

when you pulled away, he looked beyond you into the backyard of your cottage, blue eyes turning brighter as the rays of sun hit his face. “it’s a beautiful day, my love. how about we go outside and tend to your garden?”

your garden was one of the most important things in your life. the flowers that you looked over every single day, the ivy that found itself growing over the wooden arch you put at the entrance, and the array of animals that found themselves wandering around the premises.

wood nymphs protected forest’s. so after you decided to move into your own home, a garden was the next best thing you could think of watching over.

castiel loved joining you when it came to gardening. whether it was planting new flowers or helping any plants that needed heeling, cas was there. he even bought you both matching garden gloves for your anniversary.

grabbing castiel’s hand, you led the both of you outside and down the cobblestone path that when followed would grant access to your botanical wonderland.

you watched as castiel took off both his trench coat and suit jacket, rolling his dress shirts sleeves up so he wouldn’t get dirt all over them. the sun was shining bright above the both of you, and you were glad you decided to wear a breezy dress on such a beautiful day.

gardening with cas was peaceful. sometimes you wondered if there were things that he needed to be tending to in heaven. as of now, you wondered if the battle with lucifer needed his help and if gardening with you was such a great idea. he was an angel of the lord after all, and keeping him holed up in your garden wasn’t going to make the other angels happy.

castiel wanted to stay, he had told you so countless times. all of the stress and worry he had over the impending doom of lucifer’s arrival was starting to take a toll on him. what better way to destress than to watch and help his beautiful girlfriend tend to her flowers.

as you both finished up your gardening for the day, you suggested baking one of your pies. even though castiel couldn’t eat it — for all food tasted like molecules to him, he still enjoyed the smell that drifted through your home as you baked.

everything was just so simple. from the way he wiped dirt from your cheek, placing a feather light kiss to the same spot after he was done. walking up behind you and fixing the delicate bow in your hair as you rolled out the pie crust, cas continuing to stand behind you and caress your hair as he watched you work.

every couple of minutes, cas would lean in and nuzzle his face in your neck. feather light kisses being left in his wake as he muttered in your ear about how much he loved you. “you are the best thing to ever happen to me, honey.” his voice would melt into your heart like frosting on a cake, sweetening up your mind as the colour of cherries would dust your cheeks.

a forest fairy and an angel of the lord. who would’ve thought that such creatures would work well together. but you and cas were alive and you were living proof of it, relishing in your common interests yet clear differences.

spending your days doing simple tasks with cas always made you happy, and you were glad that today was one of those days.