#damn ads is a nightmare

[nyssasims]

my tumblr is so damn glitchy. why do i have five asks in my inbox but when i open it there’s nothing there 🤨

[bardicious]

Things I would change about each Supernatural season so far:

Season 1: Nothing, you're doing great, sweetie.

Season 2: You too, babe.

Season 3: Longer. (I know it's cause of the writers strike, just dreaming here lmao) No James Bond wannabe bullshit. Sadly Spn writers can't write people from Britain.

Season 4: As heartbreaking as Dean's actions are in this season, I don't think I'd change anything here either.

Season 5: Same for this one, for the same reason. It had to end tragically. Except maybe Ellen and Jo should live. And I don't think Bobby needed a wheelchair arc. Or they should have at least stuck with it, and not copped out with a meaningless demon deal.

Season 6: Soulless!Sam should have been the whole season (as much as that would break my heart) Castiel and Crowley working together on the side is still good. And ending with a megalomaniac Castiel who maybe brings back Sam's soul in the end as a "gift" would be interesting.

Season 7: Sam's soul is back and he's mentally falling apart. Their main villain is Evil!Castiel, not the Leviathans. Bobby still dies. Sam's hallucinations last for the majority of the season. Sam and Dean need to work with Crowley to defeat Castiel, maybe casting him away in Purgatory? In the final battle, Dean and Castiel both still find themselves in purgatory and Castiel is back to himself.

Season 8: Same as canon. But Sam's year from Dean had him having a mental break down (same as in canon, in s7), don't know how he'd get better, maybe using the idea of Amelia and a dog to work through the pain. Dean comes back and is still a dick (it's part of his character) And honestly, except for some insane takes from in canon, everything is the same. Castiel still gets tricked into closing the gates of Heaven.

Season 9: Dean still gets Gadreel's help, Sam is still mad at him. The main villain is still Metatron. Dean meets and takes on the mark of Cain at the end of the season, maybe to kill Metatron rather than Abaddon like they had in canon (because it's all convoluted and there's too many damn cooks in the kitchen).

Season 10: Main villain of this season would be Cain, while Dean is dealing with having the mark of Cain on his body, getting angrier, and intermittingly getting close to turning into a demon (like Sam was in s4) Sam has to juggle him and Dean needing to kill Cain vs getting the Mark of Cain off his brother. Leading to the darkness.

Season 11: The Darkness is released. Lucifer tries to get out of the cage via trickery but it doesn't work. NO ONE SAYS YES. But the cage is still broken so he still interacts with Sam while Dean is still coping with his attachment with Amara. Maybe it's Castiel who finally finds god, or god finds him (poetic to Castiel's attempts in s5). And like in canon Amara chooses Earth over her fight with her brother. They leave, but the battle that ensued prior had done further damage to the cage. Allowing everything within to escape out, unbeknownst to god and darkness who left.

Season 12: Main villain is Lucifer, but you don't find out right away. Still ends up with Lucifer having a child. No Mary resurrection. No British Men of Letters either.

Boy, haven't felt like creating a personal series revision since the bbc merlin fandom. 😔 It's how you know this show is nonsensical and batshit crazy.

[sleepdeprivedlilbean]

ah yes my favorite duo 💃🕺 : centuries old eldridge horror and his ✨favorite man slut✨

close-ups and my ramblings under the cut (it’s a lot guys. i have a lot of feelings about them and i was just YAPPING 😫)

yall really ate up my last post with Nightmare which omg thank u guys so much for that 🥺

now here’s more 😈

anyway

slutty manservant isn’t the only outfit Killer has, but it’s definitely his favorite lmao (the amount of times he’s been asked if he’s a Lust variant is crazy 💀. don’t get me wrong tho they r besties 💅)

the trench coat vibe was also definitely the way to go with Nightmare and i just 😫

now what’s their dynamic?

i definitely feel like my version of Nightmare and Killer are very much a “talks and listens” duo like shown with the chibi little guys

honestly tho, at first their relationship was strictly business and transactional, but the more time they spent together, the more comfortable they got in each others company and eventually became friends and equals and maybe more

and i feel like during all of that it’s just the two of them. Murder and Horror don’t show up until waaay later once Killer and Nightmare’s relationship has already been established

and no their relationship (whatever it may be, romantic or not i’ll be honest i still haven’t decided 🥲) isn’t toxic, as how i c my Nightmare isn’t anything like cannon Nightmare if that wasn’t already clear

my Nightmare, once free from the rage fueled haze of his corruption, is actually rather calm, collected, and dare say kind in his own way (he is a man of action and very few words)

he doesn’t create negativity out of malicious intent, but rather out of necessity, and actively will comfort those who are greatly struggling, which is how he first came into contact with Killer, seeing him isolated in his dying world

Killer was the first person Nightmare had attempted to “comfort” per say, and was freshly free from his corrupted mentality, hence, y he wasn’t very good at it lol. also, the corruption was reason he hadn’t gotten to Killer sooner in the first place, as he as actively enjoying the suffering Killer was going through at the time. if that makes sense???

anyway, sure they might have been cold to each other at first, with a lack of comforting on Nightmare’s part which somehow turned into a partnership?? but nothing was ever abusive within their relationship

i feel like the turning point for them would be that Nightmare admits to Killer in a moment of vulnerability that he was the first and only person to treat him like he wasn’t some, abomination. monster. freak

he’s never judged him based on his poor past actions, nor is role/duty

he accepts him. and all of him. fully and with all of his flaws not that he has any

(god i love them)

i do feel like if they were in a romantic relationship it’d be rather casual in a way that makes it clear there’s something going on between them, but they’re definitely not the type for pda (veeerrry rarely and only in front of people the trust. it’s a different story when they’re in bed tho 😏)

they’re the old married couple that banters and teases each other but with much more sexual tension lol

ok that’s enough yapping from me haha

if you’ve made it this far genuinely ur the best like wow 🥹

this was a looooot of nonsense so thanks for taking the time to read it all

i’ll be honest i still have more to say but like 💀 nah im cut off-

maybe someday tho…

alright bye 😘

[beastsovrevelation]

I had another Good Omens fanfiction dream this morning.

Basically, Crowley was due to give birth. You might ask, Pestilence, what's with you and Crowley being pregnant?.. The answer is, I don't know, and neither does my therapist.

So, Crowley's due to give birth, he's scared and in pain. Beelzebub shows up, along with a few other demons (I guess I'll look through the Key of Solomon, I remember a few have to do with healing). She told him they'll support him. I have a feeling, the dream adhered to my idea that Crowley and Beelzebub are siblings (in spite Beelzebub looking like she does in S2, so Indian).

Crowley had to change to his snake form, because while his human form was male (so he couldn't give birth without surgery, which was too dangerous), his snake form was female. The demons put him in a whelping box (genius idea). Crowley gave birth to either 4 or 6 baby snakes (apparently, they're called snakelets). It was a live birth, which, fun fact, some snakes do give (i think boa constrictors, and snake Crowley kind of looks like one, aside from the colouring). The baby snakes then morphed to human form. I don't think Crowley nearly died, but he lost a lot of blood, and got extremely exhausted. No, it probably wasn't realistic to how snakes actually give birth.

(They were far larger, though)

Oh, and at some point, Aziraphale found out, but someone (possibly Beelzebub) forbade him from coming, because an angel's presence would distress the babies, and they wouldn't take human form. They could also die.

No, I don't think Aziraphale was the "father". The babies were demons, while, according to my headcanons, when an angel procreates with a demon, the baby's an angel, as it's the original form (though, they do retain some demonic features). Maybe, Crowley mated with an actual snake, or something... It would be very Greek and Norse god of him, but what the Heaven, dude... I guess, Beelzebub could act as the litter's she-father, once the two had reconciled. Which, is a word I use for maternal figures who, traditionally, would be considered more paternal. You know, kind of emotionally detached, more provider than carer, often absent, that sort of deal.

This is incoherent, but I only remember fragments. I guess, I will put it down in my notes for the future. I already did. (I'm kind of tempted to write the birth scene, I like writing birth scenes, they're brutal).

Don't you just have a love/hate relationship with when you are already swamped with WIPs, but the Fanfiction Gods send you another vision?..

Also, don't you just hate it when you give birth to a litter of snakelets, with the help of your coworkers, and your estranged sister.

What the Hell do you even name that many damn whelps...

[irenic-raccoon]

British Yaoi 👍

[blueheartedmayor]

OOC:

[dusteryy]

peny ......

[lesbianbishounen]

i need to watch the last few tristamp eps but i also kinda dont want to theyve lost me honestly. i hate being like "old thing good new thing bad" but i am not really feeling most of the changes. read more because holy shit i was not expecting this to get so long

maybe its having read trimax thats skewing my perception more than a bit but i don't think a lot of the story changes are that interesting or even good sometimes. Like roberto is really boring imo and i feel like something is shifted abt the tone of the show and the audience's perception of vash by revealing his backstory right out the gate instead of getting the sort of outsider pov of meryl and milly like the start of 98 and trimax did.

the tone is much more heavy and obviously trimax was like that too in the latter half but i think having the entire show be kinda moody feels less impactful than the contrast between the many silly and completely serious moments the og story had. Having lighthearted stuff made more depressing scenes stand out and i feel that duality is also kinda important since the capacity for both good and evil in humans is such a central theme. Idk where i'm going with this theres more i could talk about but it just sucks because i really wanted to love this show despite knowing it was gonna be a reboot and was pretty optimistic going into it but atp i'm just kind of :/ and i doubt that i'm going to do a 180 later and end up loving it.

It also kind of blows that i think stampede is probably a fun watch if youve never seen or read trigun before but if you go back to older iterations after watching it youve already gotten later stuff spoiled. Like i don't think its all bad I enjoyed seeing aspects of the story that weren't in 98 get animated and i do enjoy the animation itself, I'm just not all that invested in it as adaptation anymore

also i will never forgive them for livio and especially elendira's new designs this was my one chance to see them animated WHYYYYYY

[zincbot]

i'm absolutely lost but managed to start calamity

[iscratchdoors]

man fuck temu ads i wanna see more ads for shit like a leopard trying to convert me to christianity or a single hat

[emotargaryen]

went to get a 4th margarita (i know) and realized while pouring that i finished off the tequila and then i heard my stepdad in the downstairs freezer getting his nightly ice cream treat even though he was KNOCKED on the couch literally a half hour ago and on my way downstairs i knocked over the basket of keys on the stairs which ruined all attempts of being stealthy trying not to be sent by it happy new year to me

[cherubfae]

𝔠𝔲𝔡𝔡𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 || {𝔳𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔰𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔰}

With Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Billy and Stu, Art the Clown, Vincent, Bo, Lester, Sal Fisher, & Patrick Bateman, Thomas Sawyer

tags: AFAB reader (not specified), cuddling, affection, rz!Mikey, art is his own warning lmao, terrifier 2 spoilers, little spoon!slashers, nightmares (Sal), comfort, poly!Ghostface, I low-key rant about art in Vin's lmao

Michael

Exhaustion isn't something he's used to feeling so heavily in his bones. He feels the heavy weight rippling across his broad shoulders and spiraling down his spine in white hot pain. He's not a tame being, but he is a bit more docile in the months before and after Halloween. His knife doesn't thirst for blood quite as much as on the 31st.

Seeing you in your bed is a welcomed sight. Michael doesn't say much more than the soft grunt of acknowledgement as he sheds his coveralls from his dirt-caked skin. He has a lovely warm bath that loosens all the tight muscles of his lower back. You'll have his head later for leaving a ring of grime in the tub; Mikey doesn't care about that right now.

The fresh sheets are so comfortable, accepting them fully as Michael tucks his face into your side. His recently cut hair is still long enough to form a fringe curtain over his grey eyes.

Jason

Softly leans his chin to your shoulder. Depending on how far along you two are into your relationship, Jason might feel comfortable enough to have his mask removed. He's aware the material probably doesn't feel too pleasant being pressed to the side of your face or lightly digging into your skin.

His arms wind around your waist, happily sighing as he leans himself against you. Jason also doesn't mind if you switch things up and hold him in return, stroking the top of his head softly.

Brahms

If there's a way where he can wind his body around yours, Brahms will find it. He definitely likes keeping you away from all of the noise of the world, and while he's not mega happy about it, he knows you need trips into town sometimes. He likes seeing what kind of food items you bring back because the meals you make are simply delicious!

After dinner and bathing, Brahms snuggles beside you, clinging to you like you've been gone for ages. The chill of his porcelain biting into your skin as he happily huffs behind it. He's so glad to have you. <3

Billy and Stu

The pair are constantly together, if not with you, then they're almost always flanking each other's sides. The other is often not far from the first. Adding you into their duo to form a trio didn't change much of their dynamic. Instead of the two boys slinking around, they've got you as their third and final confidant.

Billy isn't the most touchy-feely person-- that's what he likes to claim. He doesn't really know how to ask for the things that he wants. He's different to Stu in the way that he's silent when you press your hand to the brunette's cheek, smiling as his eyelids flutter closed. Subconsciously leaning into your touch, chasing the feeling when you pull away.

Stu likes to be what he calls the mega spoon. It's him behind you, snuggled at your back, and with Billy pressed close to your chest still too proud to say that he enjoys being taken care of as the little spoon. You three make a nice, lovely three-person sandwich. Even when lying down, you're in the center with the boys wrapped around you like snakes. There is no them without you; you are their missing piece.

Art

This man is mostly, if not always, within your personal space. 'It's not yours, it's ours'. Art is rarely a being ever to break character or change out of his damned costume, and his hygiene is quite questionable sometimes; though he does in fact bathe and wash his suit. Just not often.

He's a man of very few words, especially when he's deep into his clown character and doing what he does best. Being immortal has its advantages, but his fight with Sienna really put him through the ringer. Art was decapitated! What a riot.

With his strength slowly returning to him, Art is always almost underfoot. In your bubble, seeing what you're doing. Snuggling up to you in a rare moment where his costume is off, leaning his head into your chest with an exhausted expression. It seemed that Pale Girl was allowing him some respite with you for a bit.

Vincent

He is a busy man, constantly sculpting and creating. His sketchbooks are filled to the absolute brim of beautiful works of art in all sorts of mediums: charcoal, graphite, watercolor, and ink. You're his muse, his favorite subject of which his art circulates. There's something so breathtaking about you, minute details that only an artist can see within people. An eternal, everlasting beauty.

Vincent is quick to jot down the rough outline of your sleeping form resting against Jonesy. He's smiling behind the wax mask, skilled fingers shading the crease of your eyelids then moving to sketch the curve of your Cupid's bow. When he felt it was finished enough for now, Vincent sets his book aside in favor of crawling into bed beside you.

His broad frame dwarfs yours as he curls his body around yours, his large hands slide beneath your sweater pressing across your tummy. Vincent really adores you, you know?

Bo

Not much of a cuddler, but if you get especially pouty about it Bo will roll his eyes and tug you to him. He can be a major asshole but he doesn't like seeing his baby upset.

He tucks you beneath his strong arm, his mechanic's hat resting on top of the back of the sofa. Waiting for you to settle down doesn't take long as you're soon drifting off with your head on his chest, focusing on his hand placed on your knee; gently stroking the skin there. His eyes begin to droop, feeling heavy. Cradling the back of your neck, Bo allows himself to drift off, too.

Lester

Long days certainly do get to him sometimes. Tiring him out something awful. He's prepared enough roadkill and deer for his brothers and you, enough to satiate any hunger for the time being until he finds time to run into the nearby town again.

Lester finds you lounging in his bed with Jonesy, Vincent must be working hard and the pup sought out attention where she could. He had no idea where Bo was or whatever the hell he was up to.

Collapsing onto the bed, Lester sighs deeply when you immediately comb your fingers through his messy short hair. He's out like a light soon after.

Sal Fisher

Poor guy has so much going on that sometimes he just wants to crash and sleep for one-thousand years. He doesn't sleep well on the best of days, plagued by frequent nightmares that not even the warmth and comfort of your sleeping form beside him can quell.

Another nightmare yanks Sal out of a fitful sleep. One that has him patting the sheets, searching for you. The heat of your skin against his hands sends a calming peace over him. He's scooping your sleeping form in his arms, his face hidden in your neck. Sal gives a weak smile as you snuggle into him. He focuses on your even breathing, allowing himself to fall asleep soon after.

Thomas

It's incredibly hot on the best of days in Duller County, the Sawyer family set up several oscillating fans that constantly work overtime without a proper functioning air conditioning unit.

Even the lackluster cool breeze and the sweltering Texan heat aren't enough to have Tommy pulling you into his lap and nuzzling his masked face into your hair.

You're much smaller than him. It gives Tommy a sense of pride knowing that he's your big, strong protector. :)

Patrick

He is such an enigma, a contradiction. Patrick isn't much of a cuddler or snuggler but he wants to play the role of being a dutiful partner. He is quick to become a jealous lover if you were to find someone else to give you attention while he's fretting over what sort of shade of cream or white Paul Allen's next business card will have.

A prideful, vain being such as himself would never admit how much he truly does enjoy having your curl up next to him. The warmth your body exudes is a comfort, one he finds him seeking out more and more even though your relationship is still within its earlier stages. Patrick hates that he finds himself being so undone by you, but he can't find it within himself to stop either. There's something inside of you that his fervent bloodlust can't be satisfied by.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[cherrixpie]

HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN

part two of five

↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it. only, you had some very perceptive friends.

↬ sfw; mostly fluff; wc: 3.4k; cw: none; secret relationship trope, potter!reader, griffindor! reader

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( masterlist )

“Be careful,” you whispered to him, words leaving your lips and being breathed in by Theo’s, just a fraction of an inch apart from yours. “Someone might already be up,” you said worriedly, pushing lightly at his chest. “Go!”

Theo didn't want to go. In moments like these, having you pressed up against your dorm door, hair disheveled from sleep, looking just about ready to be devoured, it was hard to keep being the sensible one. But you were right. Stealing one last kiss, full of morning breath and murmured Italian endearments, Theo parted from you. “See you later, principessa,” he promised seductively, relishing in the little blush that took over your cheeks.

“If you aren't taken apart by a stray griffindor on your way back,” you retorted in a hushed tone and Theo chuckled carelessly. Sparing you one last glance, heavy with something undefined, he took the stairs down. The wooden steps of the griffindor tower creaked faintly under his careful steps, the sound swallowed by the quiet hum of the early morning.

The griffindor common room was empty, save for the dying embers in the fireplace casting flickering shadows on the walls. In a few steps, he had crossed the length of the room and paused near the portrait hole, his sharp eyes scanning the room one last time before pushing the frame open, scrunching together his eyebrows when the fat lady stirred and muttered something in her sleep.

He stepped into the cool corridor, reminiscing in the memories of last night. A particularly haunting nightmare had made him restless, so restless, in fact, that he couldn't resist to grab his broom and fly a few rounds around the quiddditch pitch. Only, that hadn't helped the images popping up in his head any time he closed his eyes. So he flew up to your window daringly, knocking and damn near giving you a heart attack.

Luckily, your fellow dormitory students were already fast asleep when you opened the window for him. After some exchanged hushes of worry and excitement, you had pulled him into your bed, letting him engulf you in a hug as you rested against his chest. Which was how you awoke the next morning, with you getting him out of your dormitory before your friends woke up.

Theo congratulated himself on sneaking out of enemy territory unseen. Enemy, of course, except for you. A smile tugged at his lips in spite of himself as his mind vividly recounted your hands in his hair, soothing him to sleep. There was no other person who he could trust this unconditionally, not just with his body, but with his soul. Soul. Unbelievable, that he was starting to lament over such sentimental crap. But looking into your eyes, it was a challenge not to become one of the lovesick, sappy idiots he used to sneer at.

“What are you doing here?”

Theo was ripped out of his reminiscent haze by a shrude voice and he cursed himself for letting down his guard and deviating from his usual vigilance. Ron Weasley stood in front of him, panting in his quidditch attire with a broom clutched in his hand. Tensely, he stared at Theo, looking just about ready to jump him.

“I didn't know borrowing books was a reasonable offense now,” Theo remarked with a disparaging smile, brushing past the ginger without a second glance to avoid further questioning.

The boy opened his mouth in protest and shot around in the direction Nott had taken off, but the corridor was empty, save for the portraits who had watched the exchange with mild interest. Some of them sniggered and Ron threw a nasty scowl their way, pushing open the portrait hole. Strange. But he shrugged it off, opting to catch a few minutes of sleep before breakfast.

“Have you slept a single hour last night?” Hermoine asked pointedly when you yawned for the third time since breakfast. Propping up her book so Slughorn wouldn't catch the two of you whispering, she raised a brow. “You look really tired, maybe you should-”

“I’m fine,” you cut her off with a reassuring smile, copying down the ingredients for an amortentia potion. Indeed, you had been a little caught up with staring at your sleeping boyfriend's face last night other than sleeping. But how were you supposed to rest when your heart beat like a jackhammer at his arm around your waist. “You’ll just have to coordinate the brewing, I’m afraid, or I’ll release a biochemical weapon onto the class.” Hermoine laughed.

Just then, Slughorn demanded the class’s attention, waving a sheet of parchment in his hands. “For this lesson, I thought we would switch things up a bit.” A loud groan echoed through the class and Hermoine and you exchanged exasperated glances. Only Slughorn seemed truly delighted by the idea as he flattened the parchment, reading out the assigned pairs.

Hermoine got paired up with Malfoy, to her great displeasure, but when Slughorn got to the letter ‘P’, he paired up Harry with Dean and you with- “Mr Nott,” Slughorn announced, rolling up the parchment. “Please, get together in your assigned pairs. You have one hour to brew an amortentia potion. Start … now!”

“Poor us,” Hermoine sighed, packing her things. Oh, yes. Poor you. Sneaking a glance at Theo, you saw him hoist his quill, parchment and books into his arms to come over. The bags under his eyes were a little more pronounced than usual, and you knew why. Looking at him made your heart beat louder once more. “It’s just one hour,” you attempted to comfort Hermoine who took off, steering towards a very displeased looking Malfoy.

“May I sit here?” a grave voice whispered way too close to your ear. Flinching, you jerked your head back and made room for Theo to sit, sending him a firm look. But no movement disturbed the perfect symmetry of his features as he sat down, collecting the ingredients on the table before you. Shyly, you dared brush your hand with his and saw his perfect lips twitch in the corner of your eye.

His hand fell under the table as if by chance, and he hooked his pinkie finger around yours, squeezing it gently. A silent exchange. Releasing your hand, Theo opened his book and propped it up, igniting the fire beneath your cauldron with a simple flick of his wand. If you hadn't known better, you’d have been deeply intimidated by the irked glance he spared you. “Focus, Potter. I don't want to fail this lesson because of you.”

“Are your skills so poor they deflate in the presence of my humble self?” you retorted, attempting to suppress a grin. He was better at this, at controlling his expression to a tee, masking his true feelings with indifference and disdain. You, on the other hand, were faced with the challenge of not breaking out into a bright smile any time you two locked eyes, if you didn't want to blow your cover.

Without another comment, Theo assigned the task of cutting up the ingredients to you, giving you exasperated looks any time you didn't chop them up fast enough. But when your half-finished potion let out a loud hiss and puffed out a thick cloud of smoke, as described in the instructions, he leaned over, a tender smile on his lips. “You’re doing very good, tesoro,” he whispered and left you scrambling to hide your gleeful smile once the smoke had subsided.

Catching Zabini staring at the two of you, you kicked Theo under the table who understood immediately and gave you a slighting glare. "Careful, Potter. If you don't chop those properly, Slughorn's going to lecture both of us."

You gave him an equally dirty look, pointing the cutting knife at him. "Why don't you do it, then? Afraid you'll ruin those perfectly manicured nails?" Theo's eyes glinted, lingering in the knife until they flickered up at your eyes and you recognized the expression. Of course Theo liked knifes, you thought to yourself sarcastically and went back to chopping the ingredients, with Theo still looming over you, the sole focus of his attention.

"Didn't notice you fancied my hands so much, Potter." Yes, he did. Only a week ago had he teased you about it when your gaze lingered on them for a second too long. Long enough to catch his attentive eye and earn you a string of teasing comments and insinuations that had left you as a flustered mess. Feeling someone's eyes on you, you glanced up and met Hermoine's, so you turned to Theo sharply and glared as convincingly as possible.

"You're a distracting batard, you know? And if I get caught making mistakes because of you, I'm blaming you in front of Slughorn." The amused expression in his eyes revealed to you just how entertaining this was for him, this throwing around backhanded insults, flirting just subtly enough to avoid suspicion, teetering the edge with every sentence and challenging himself to absolute composure and self control. And you found yourself growing quite excited in expectation of his retort, eyes lingering on the dangerous curl of his perfect lips.

"Oh no," Theo remarked with faux distress. "Anything but the wrath of a Griffindor with hurt feelings." You'd have loved it to shove your elbow into his side, but settled for a cold glower. "One of these days, I'm going to wipe that smirk off your face, Nott."

Theo sure wasn't lying when he chuckled: "Looking forward to it, Potter." Casually, his gaze brushed over the ingredients you had chopped increasingly unevenly over the course of your banter. "If you're trying to sabotage this potion, you're doing an excellent job."

Caught red handed, you pouted at him defiantly, knowing it would rile him up. "I don't need your approval, Nott." When he replied, his voice was much closer to your ear than expected. "That's funny, considering how much time you spend trying to impress me."

Jolting back in your seat, you looked around the room frantically, but for once, your classmates seemed to mind their own business. But still, you turned back to Theo with fake fury laced into your tone. "Impress you? Please. You'd be lucky if I even noticed you existed outside of this table."

A delighted little smile made its way to Theo's stone cold expression, soon replaced by a mocking expression. "Oh, I think you notice plenty, Potter."

Every single one of his snide comments and remarks, eagerly returned by you, were accompanied by a glint of amusement in his eyes, and if he was feeling particularly bold, a soft squeeze of your thigh under the table. The first time he did it, you flinched and caught a weird look from Hermoine. When you frowned at Theo, he simply smiled indesipherably.

Slowly, your potion started taking on it’s signature smell. Breathing in, you could've rolled your eyes when the smell of smoke penetrated your nose, paired with that of parchment and mint. When you looked up, you found Theo already looking at you with an unmistakably hungry expression that had you blink meekly in your seat before burying your flushed face in your potions book.

At the end of the lesson, your potion was as pinkish as described in the instructions and Slughorn smiled at you both with a pleased expression. “Amortentia indeed. Miss Potter, Mr Nott, you make a rather fine pair, this is just right. Not that I would have expected anything less from either of you…”

You resisted the urge to look at Theo, because you knew whatever expression graced his face, it would surely make you smile traitorously. With an extra O on your wrap sheet, you left the classroom for lunch with Hermoine, Harry and Ron, eager to meet with Theo later that day. But your plans were cut short when Hermoine asked: “Will you be in the common room tonight? I heard the library is closing early.”

“Really?” you exclaimed in surprise. The library had been your common excuse for dates with Theo, and you also sensed that Hermoine was watching your reaction closely. “Well,” you said, feeling it would be suspicious if you didn't agree, “I guess so, yeah.”

“Good,” Hermoine said heartily as you strolled past the Slytherins and you resisted the urge to look at Theo. “Because Harry, Ron and I-” Both boys violently shook their heads at her and she rolled her eyes. “Fine, because I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Already suspicious about what that ‘something’ might be, you forced an unasuming smile upon your face. “Great, just great.”

Hermoines eyes bored themselves into your back as you excused yourself to go to the toilet, watching your frame diasappear behind a corner. Ron raised his brows as he stilled in his step. “You coming, or what?” Shooting him a nasty look, she trailed along, but before she could scold Ron, he raised his voice once more, in a blatant attempt to distract her. “Hey, guess who I ran into this morning leaving the Griffindor tower?”

“Who?” Harry and Hermoine asked and Ron lowered his voice for dramatic effect. “Theodore Nott,” he revealed theatricly, clasping his hands together. “Said he was 'borrowing a book' but he looked like he was in quite a hurry, and pretty disheveled at that. And you know how prim and proper that bloke strolls around the halls. Hair like a bird’s nest, I tell you.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Bet that he planted some kind of trap there, maybe we should check the common room tonight.”

“Maybe,” Hermoine said, lost in thought, looking out of the window onto the grey sky.

“Maybe he was looking for our quidditch strategies,” Harry speculated, taking to steps at a time. “We're playing them this weekend, after all.”

“Yeah, that’ll be it!” Ron exclaimed, but Hermoine did not look convinced.

Neither of them brought the topic up again though, until it quite literally ran into them. As they walked around a corner, they saw Nott himself striding out of a corridor and disappearing in the direction of the great hall. “What was he doing in the corridor of the girl's toilets?” Ron laughed once he was out of earshot. As daring as he was, he was not stupid enough to challenge Nott to an altercation.

But the topic of lunch soon became the more pressing one as they entered the great hall, no one noticing your late arrival, disheveled hair or un-tucked shirt.

Theodore Nott would not describe himself as a romantic. In spite of his Italian heritage, he was everything but sappy. In fact, he thought he had a rather raw opinion of life and the world. Theo did not smile to himself while delving in memories, he did not savor touch or words, he didn't spend afternoons thinking of dates, he didn't believe in love as anything other than hormones. Until you came along and disrupted his whole worldview.

Relationships had always been transactions for him, mostly sexual, pushing people away before he had a chance to get attached. Theo didn't need love or pining or butterflies in his stomach, or daydreams of you, there was a damn war on the doorstep. And that it had to be you, specifically. But of course, he would fall for someone so far out of his reach that he had to go to truly ridiculous lengths to see you. And still, it was worth it a hundred times.

“Mate, you have been staring daggers at the Griffindor table for the last five minutes,” Blaise said, nudging him and making Theo blink in irritation. He had been watching you intently as you talked with your friends, trying to balance food, the conversation and the book you had to read for your next lesson. Cute. Utterly endearing, in fact.

“It’s scary. You haven't blinked once for at least five minutes,” Blaise continued, stealing the untouched food from Theo’s plate who couldn't care any less. You had just risen from your seat, almost tripping over the bench and laughing about your mistake as you threw your back over your shoulder and hurried out of the hall. When Theo showed no reaction to his comment, Blaise nudged him again and Theo begrudgingly took his eyes off you. “What's got your head in a wrap, you old grump?”

“Nothing,” Theo said, rubbing his eyes. Not only had he had a nightmare, he also had had a hard time sleeping last night when you were just inches from him, in your fucking bed in your cute pyjamas and those starry eyes, looking just about ripe to be devoured-

“Theo, how much did you sleep tonight?” Enzo asked worriedly, a spoonful of sauce halting its movement halfway to his mouth.

“And more importantly, where?” called Mattheo from next to him, flicking his fork at Theo that he dodged.

“Common room,” he muttered, but the boys glanced sceptically at each other. “You weren't on the quidditch pitch all night, were you?” Draco groaned and rolled his eyes when Theo didn't answer. “Hey, the team needs you at your best this weekend, if Potter wins I might actually have to throw myself off the Astronomy tower!”

“And what a loss for the world that would be,” Theo remarked sarcastically, prompting the others to laugh while Draco kicked him under the table.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” you asked expectantly, sitting down on the couch next to Hermoine who glanced at you wearily. It was almost midnight and the common room was empty, save for the four of you lounging by the fire, the sound of the cackling fire occasionally disrupted by a short conversation.

“You…,” Hermoine hesitated, “You’ve been a little distant lately and we were just wondering… is everything alright?” You were so stunned by the question which you really should have seen coming that you didn't answer for a few seconds. Blinking at the three frowning faces in varying stages of worry and suspicion, you smiled.

“That's really sweet of you, but I’m fine, really. Just… a lot of school,” you said, giving them a convincing smile.

But Hermoine didn't seem satisfied with your answer. “You told me you would visit the library last week. Well, I was there. You weren't.” Right. You hadn't been at the library because you had snuck out to the school grounds, making your way to the lake swiftly where Theo was already waiting for you.

Sometimes the two of you needed words and sometimes you didn't. That day, you didn't. Instead, he had guided you between his legs to sit down, his arms engulfing you from behind and shielding you against the cold. Lost in your individual trains of thought, you had watched the shimmering reflections of the enlightened windows decrease in number until there was only the cool light of the moon. That was when Theo had risen at last, pulling you up with him. He had taken your hand, like it was the most normal thing in the world, and the two of you had walked back to the castle. Like the gentleman he was, he had even taken you to Griffindor tower and kissed you good night, dismissing the risk of Filch catching him.

The two of you had barely talked that evening, but it had left you so calm and fulfilled as if you had shared a heartfelt conversation. And maybe you had. Maybe you had discovered other means than words to convey your feelings to each other.

“It was kinda crowded in there,” you tried to talk your way out of the situation, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. Once more, you were reminded that nonchalance was not something you could simply pick up from somebody- or you’d have lied your way out of this one already.

“Oh, come on,” Ron groaned, shooting you an exasperated look. “You’re acting weird. You’re always off doing something, and when you’re with us you’re not really there because we gotta talk to you several times for you to notice it!”

“Now, that's a massive exaggeration!” you protested, folding your arms over your chest. Sure, maybe you’d gotten lost in thought a few times over the last months, but not remotely as often as Ron made it sound.

“You’re acting shifty,” Ron pressed, pointing an accusing finger at you. “And I know shifty!”

Hermoine rolled her eyes at him, looking like she was contemplating a crime. “I only wanted to say,” she sighed, “that we're a bit worried. Is there maybe… I mean,” - she raised her brow suggestively - “Are you … seeing someone?”

“What?” Harry exclaimed and splurted out a full mouth of butterbeer into the hissing fire, seeming utterly stunned by the possibility. “You mean-” He looked from Hermoine at you and back again. “Wait, seriously?”

“Well,” Hermoine interrupted him. “It's really none of our business. We just wanted to make sure.”

“Wait a second,” Harry chimed in and you couldn't help but laugh at the incredulous on his face. “This is serious, I need to know this, I’m your brother!” “When did you start getting all browy and overprotective?” you sneered, laughing at his expression. “What do you even care? Did I pry when you started dating Cho?”

Harry mumbled something under his breath, but Ron looked amused. “Assuming you won't reveal the identity of whatever bloke you’re dating-” “Hold up, when did I confirm I was dating anybody?” “-who might the mystery man be?” The topic seemed much more interesting to him than his potions homework which lay discarded worryingly close to the fire. Propping himself on one elbow, he scanned you up and down. “I bet you’re not dating Seamus or Dean or we would know. And you don't seem like the type to go for older guys.” He glanced at Hermoine. “Someone in Ravenclaw maybe?”

Hermoine’s glare had him growing quiet. “This is childish, Ron. And who says she isn't dating a girl?”

“You all seem pretty dead-set on the dating theory,” you remarked but it went unheard, or at least overheard.

“As long as it’s not a Slytherin,” Ron told you in a comforting tone, “It's fine and we’ll live with it.” As if it was a truly ridiculous idea, he began bellowing with laughter, but you only joined in half-heartedly. If you had needed any more confirmation that nobody could know about you and Theo, here it was, laughing you in the face.

taglist: @annaisabookworm [get added to the tag list by commenting]

[artyandink]

maine coon

Summary: Dean initially hated your small touches. He used to feel weird with them on his skin. But now he craves them. He craves the high of feeling like a human, and you’re the best hit he’s ever had.

TW: Mentions of borderline dehumanisation (cause we hate John guys for making those two beautiful boys soldiers/mindless machines), two idiots in love, tooth rotting fluff! Thought up this little drabble :)

A/N - Maine coon because they’re a very friendly cat breed! Plus, a little comfort for Dean cause he needs it :) set in s1

Little touches.

It started like that. Just small brushes of your hand on his shoulder and ruffling of Sam’s hair. The younger Winchester would brush you off politely, fix his hair but wear an affectionate smile anyway.

Not Dean.

Dean would grumble, pout angrily, act as if he was wiping off the invisible trail your hands left and claim that he wasn’t a baby. All at first. But slowly, like an ice lolly in the sun, slowly melting, he found himself less inclined to brush you off. He’d get jumpy and irritable if you didn’t show him that affection for too long. He even found his nightmares appearing less frequently after being lulled to sleep with his head in your lap, your fingers in his hair because he couldn’t sleep.

You slept better too, knowing he was ok and he was able to turn to you, even though it was wordless. All it took was a flash of puppy eyes and you knew what he needed. The comfort that he deserved, after working himself to the bone protecting Sammy and you like his father taught him. Like a good soldier.

He didn’t feel like that with you.

Sleep was gently coaxed out of him by the sensation of nails on his scalp, a groan muffled by his face in his pillow as he instantly recognised the cool sensation of the ring on your finger as your hand smoothed down his hair. “Wake up, Dean.” You murmured softly, your thumb tracing his ear, and he almost smiled at the sensation. Almost.

The aroma of coffee hit his lungs, and when your hand ran down to gently press against his shoulders and massaging down to his shoulder blades, he didn’t feel so inclined to sleep further. So he sat up. He wanted to see you, your gorgeous face, with the eyes that told a thousand stories and those lips that were worth a thousand dollars when they were pursed in anger. Which only came out when someone hurt him or Sam.

He didn’t feel like he had a sword and shield in his hand in moments like these. Instead, he had a warm cup of coffee and your hand briefly petting his hair, which he leaned into before it even touched his head. “Mornin’.” He rasped out, voice crackly and hoarse from the morning, smacking his lips to get the morning taste off before taking the first heavenly hit of caffeine. And relishing in the aftershocks of the second euphoric high of your touch. “S’some damn good coffee, darlin’.”

“Black, two spoons o’ sugar, and a dash of beer.” You gave him a small smile as you stood up and moved to the kitchenette of your small motel room, looking beautiful to Dean even in your oversized shirt and sleep shorts, complete with black ankle socks. You had bed head that you were yet to sort out, but Dean was dazzled by the halo he could see over your head.

His mom said angels were watching over him. Maybe this is what she meant.

“Just how you like it.” You added, working to make some breakfast. The smell of cooking eggs and frying bacon filled the space, a small smile on your face as you contently cooked food for the man who was approaching you, coffee cup raising to his lips as his eyes followed you like a lost puppy. The cup clinked as it was set down on the counter, Dean’s tongue darting out to lick his lips before biting the bottom one as he tentatively made his way over to rest his chin on your shoulder from behind, his eyes closing slowly like a cat when your hand reached behind to gently play with his hair.

“Smells nice.” He murmured, almost like a purr as he leaned into your touch.

You chuckled, your fingers rubbing over the silky, spiky strands of his morning hedgehog hair. “That’s ‘cause I’m an amazing cook.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Dean added with a contented groan, wanting so badly to tell you how he felt. So much that it was threatening to burst out of his chest.

“What did I tell you about saying that?” You chastised, piling his plate with a bit extra of everything that he liked before sliding it closer to him. “C’mon, eat.”

“Thanks.” He cupped your cheeks, leaning in.

It was meant to be a simple kiss on the forehead. That’s all it was meant to be. But by some miracle (or maybe his eternal bad luck), his lips pressed against yours. Soft, slow, sweet. He puckered up, eyebrows raising in surprise, his eyelashes fluttering but staying closed before he decided to pull himself away, but it felt like yanking. Tugging. Practically peeling himself off, cause he didn’t want to let go.

His eyes didn’t open for at least a few second. But when he did, he saw yours. Your shining eyes, with a small, amused smile on your lips. Your gorgeous lips, that he just wanted to see swollen with all the kisses and love he could give you.

“What was that for?” Came your voice, quiet and docile as you looked at him in a way that only you could. Only you.

“I don’t know.” He murmured, eyes flicking to your lips again, itching for that high again. That hit. So he let himself taste you again, let himself lose his way in the labyrinth that came with your hand on the side of his neck and his cradling your cheek. The taste of coffee, the different ways you both liked it sweetening your palettes in a beautiful mix of sweet, sour and alcohol. The smell of old leather gracing you while the scent of your lavender body wash flooded him and sent him past cloud nine.

You pulled back slowly, because you also wanted to savour him. But when you saw the look on his face, his slightly swollen lips and the way they were parted in awe, you couldn’t help but melt and thumb his bottom lip.

“I think…” You paused to kiss his cheek softly, whispering against it, “I think I know.”

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TAGLIST: @k-slla

[21280]

mha reactions to their kid being disrespectful towards their mom ?

mom! reader, girl dads! tdbkdk, inspired by the newest scenes i had to witness of my little cousin this holiday season. i can't use my childhood because i met 'mr belt' and i never misbehaved since.

IZUKU MIDORIYA as . . . the nice cop.

— izuku would probably be gentle with his parenting, and that's why he's in this situation in the first place. he's the type of parent that tries to reason with his child with a very nice voice, which ends up accidentally raising a manipulative child. even so, he'll never raise his voice towards his child, but he'll definitely get more serious. especially if she's being disrespectful towards his wife.

it was a tranquil sunday afternoon, where you and your family had visited izuku's mother for lunch. excited for the community pool, your daughter went dressed in her green sundress and her little mermaid swimsuit underneath. her smile dropped when she heard the news.

"i'm sorry, sweetie, the pool is closed!" you frowned, to which your daughter started crying. trying to comfort her, you guided her towards the bathroom to change clothes. what you weren't expecting though, was...

"don't touch me! leave me alone, you witch!"

izuku had never sprinted towards you faster in his life, eyes widened in disbelief. he lowered down to his daughter's height, as he called her attention. "hey kiddo, you didn't really mean that, right?"

your daughter nodded, "mommy won't let me go to the pool" she cried. "she's mean and a witch!"

izuku sighed as he patted his daughter's head, ruffling her hair. "the pool is closed, baby. we can come back tomorrow when it opens, okay? but never call mommy that again, yeah? you hurt her and my feelings that way. now, apologize to your mom."

"'m sorry mommy."

"and you'll never go to the pool again" you whispered to your husband, to which he nodded. "and then, maybe, we won't take you to the pool because you weren't nice to mommy. you have to love your mommy and treat her well" he added.

your daughter cried some more because she would never go to the pool again.

KATSUKI BAKUGO as . . . the restrained cop.

— katsuki would try to be gentle, but with his tone of voice, it would come out horribly. and if. his daughter is an exact copy of him? he would be pissed off and would probably ask you to reason with her first, because fighting fire with fire is horrible. when he finds out your daughter is disrespectful to you, though, he has to control himself not to scream at his child.

trying to teach your daughter to eat different foods was hard. and during the holidays? it was a nightmare.

when you sat beside her trying to spoon-feed her a small piece of turkey, she gagged. "gross! i'm not hungry. mommy made gross food! ew, ew, ew!"

katsuki's head quickly turned to the table where you sat, trying to reason with your daughter. as you fed her the food, she chewed it, and then opened her mouth. she spit. the food. on her hand.

katsuki had a face that read 'i know damn well she didn't, as he stepped closer. when you asked your daughter to please eat and to not waste any food, she snapped.

"shut up mommy!"

"who do ya think yer talking to, kid? huh? that's your mom" katsuki snaps, which earned a sob from his daughter. he realized he should've used a softer tone, but tough love, right? he was raised like that and he turned out fine.

"kid, do you know that mommy's hurt by the way you talked to her? see how ya started cryin' when i yelled? momma feels that way when ya don't treat her well. apologize."

your kid had never apologized quicker.

muttering a soft 'thank you', you turned to your daughter and helped her clean up her hand. katsuki, in the meantime, started wondering.

was the turkey he baked really that gross?

SHOTO TODOROKI as . . . the traumatized cop?

— shoto would try to do everything he can to not resemble his father. and if he ended up with a troubled kid, he would be very patient. if his daughter is disrespectful to his wife, he'd definitely be upset. he would also try to reason with her. he would pull the 'you wanna know how i got this scar' if things get really serious.

when you and your daughter were arguing upstairs, as you tried to dress her up for another todoroki family reunion. when she didn't want to get dressed, she cried.

"i'm going to tell daddy you hit me."

"sweetheart, please listen to me—"

bang.

your daughter threw herself onto the desk to her right, and started weeping more tears as she wailed, "daddy, mommy hit me!"

shoto ran up the stairs to find your weeping daughter and you with the most distressed look on your face. "did you?" he asked, to which you scoffed. "do you really think—"

"—i know you'd never" shoto cut you off, "but i had to ask. she needs to learn about trust, and not to lie."

your husband turned to her daughter, picking her up and cradling her on his arms. "where does it hurt?" he asked, as your daughter pointed at her forehead. his lips placed quick, caring kisses on your daughter's forehead as his expression turned more serious. "i want you to tell me the truth, (daughter's name). did mommy really hit you?"

your daughter looked around, her gaze finally fixating on the ground as she muttered a quiet 'no'.

"then why did you say that?"

she cried some more as she muttered nonsense into your husband's shoulders. shoto's hand cupped her cheek so she would look at him. "do you know how i got this scar?", he asked, to which she shook her head.

"my family was not very nice, and i ended up hurt" he stated, "and mommy is doing everything she can for you to feel loved. is this how we should be with mommy?"

your daughter shook her head.

"your mommy is very caring and nice with you, and we should be the same way with her. now, what do we say to her?"

"...sorry mommy."

"that's much better, my love. let's not do this again."

[jupiter-letters]

Dating Number 4/ Klaus Hargreeves would include☂️👻:

Fem! or GN! Reader TW: Brief mentions of addiction

A/N: I started Umbrella Academy a week ago and I’m obsessed, I’m almost done with season 3 and I can’t wait for season 4. I’d managed to fall in love with Robert Sheehan all over again and all that love has to go somewhere so here it is.

Waking up to little peppered kisses on your back and up your torso. If you don’t open your eyes he’ll just start blowing raspberries into your neck and on your face. Once he hears you laughing he’ll stop and flip you over. He likes being the first thing you see when you wake up. Some days are a little more peaceful and less silly, you wake to see him still asleep. A mess of curls and smudged glitter eyeshadow is the first thing you see. He’s at such peace and the most still you’ll ever see him. 

Putting makeup on each other, whether it’s going out or just playing around with new looks it doesn’t matter. Being able to experiment with new colors and combinations with each other is so much fun. On date nights you’ll pick outfits for each other, sometimes even just wearing each other’s clothes. Doing things like this with him leads to doing most things together. 

Why have him do things when you can do it for him? Or even with him? He loves having you wash his hair. Showers, baths? Of course we have to both be in there at the same time! Klaus is so touch starved any reason to spend time together he’ll take it,an added bonus is your company keeps the spirits away. 

You’re always in close proximity to each other, so your skin is always touching. Klaus just can’t get enough, physical touch becomes his middle name. He’s a natural affectionate person but just having you near is very grounding for him. 

He’ll draw on you with little glitter pens he carries in his pocket, he likes to call you his “canvas and his muse.” Even without the pens he’ll trace random shapes and words onto your arm or your back when you both lie in bed. Klaus also likes to play with your fingers when he’s bored.

Kissing!! He’s such a fiend for kissing my god, after that first kiss he’s finished. He always says he wants just one but it ends up escalating to a full on make out sesh. Doesn’t matter if you’re public or not you look too good it’d be a crime not to kiss you. Klaus doesn’t really give a damn about public embarrassment, if you wanted him to he’d run through central park naked, he would.

 Once he knows you’re ok with all the random bursts of affection he really piles it on. Neck kisses, shoulder kisses, nose kisses, not one day goes by where he doesn’t kiss you. He kisses like he wants to devour you, if he wasn’t able to kiss you that’d be hell on Earth. If you’re a fan of random kisses at the most inappropriate times he’s a professional. You’re driving, he’s gonna make out with you. Out shopping, kissing! Right now! Doctor’s appointment? Kisses under your jaw in the waiting room, he can’t help it, he's bored.

Helping him get clean, you and Ben have been pretty good influences in his life. Trying to keep him on the straight and narrow for the sake of his health. He wants to be present for you, he wants to be able to remember the things you do together. You help him find fun things to do without getting drugs involved. Taking your time and being patient with him means the world to him. He loves his siblings but they aren’t the best at helping him with it. They do try a little harder when you come around seeing how serious you are about helping him. You stay awake with him when his nightmares get too bad or when the withdrawal is really wearing him down. If it’s the ghosts that are bothering him you just tell them to piss off.(he really appreciates that)

Klaus begins to teach himself new skills to help you out around the house, cooking, cleaning you name it. He doesn’t do it very well but you appreciate the effort anyway. Chores become another activity for you both to do. He’ll even indulge in some of your hobbies just for the fun of it. 

Tattoos! He gets something on his wrist that reminds him of you, he can’t wait to show you too. If you get one related to him, god forbid a little number 4 on you he’ll cry. He does eventually tell you about the rest of his journey in Vietnam and Dave. Klaus wants to be sure you know he won’t compare you to him, He’ll always love Dave but he doesn’t love you any less. He’ll get really shy if you kiss his hand tattoos, there aren’t a lot of ways to fluster him so that’s a good one. 

Being surrounded by death and destruction most of his life really makes him appreciate what you have. The way you indulge in his antics and impulses makes Klaus feel so seen. You don’t feel real to him sometimes; late at night he’ll just lay his head on your chest and listen to your heart beating. 

When some crazy new developments or drama happens in his family you’re first to know. Luther tells him something very personal and secret and 15 mins later he’s calling you on the mansion’s phone. 

Luther: “This stays between us Klaus I mean it…” Klaus: “Of course Lulu I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone you’re dirty little secret” A few moments later… Klaus: “Babe you’ll never believe what Luther just told me!”

He’ll always be looking at you, wherever you are and whatever you’re doing you have his full attention. Klaus will just be gazing at you lovingly while five is trying to talk to him, eventually he’ll just ignore him and go to talk to you. You're his favorite person to talk to; he never gets bored with you.

Thanks for reading! Lemme know what you think. Please like or reblog if you like my stuff.