#it is so fluffy I promise

[ginnyw-potter]

Lost & Found

Harry/Ginny

Rated E

Tags: fluff, christmas, strangers to lovers

muggle AU

2 chapters

14K words

Ginny was running late to catch the bus from the mall to see her family for Christmas. When the mall went on lockdown because a kid got lost, she worried she would not make it on time. Luckily there was a kind and lonely stranger who was offering to drive her to see her family.

Chapter 1/2

Ginny walked up to the locker in the mall corridor, opened it and stuffed even more gifts into the biggest locker she had picked out earlier.

Did she mess up not doing her Christmas shopping earlier? Yes.

In her defense, she had signed with a new team and the trainings had been so brutal that all she could do during the week was eat and crawl into bed. She was using her weekends to still have something that resembled a social life.

She was looking forward to spending Christmas with her family, if she managed to get there with gifts for everyone.

[fl00mie]

oughh, BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PALETTE<33 ofc took the chance to draw them as a found family, and ink being over-emotional as a plus💖💥 ahh, 21 years, i didn't know he had grown so much

i would've loved to do something WAY bigger but inspiration never came as it should:( hope this is okay!

palette roller by @angeutblogo ink sans by @/comyet dream sans by @/jokublog

[leclerity]

that's who i'm racing for

Charles Leclerc x Fiance!Reader count: 1k words summary: Charles and you talk before a big race, sad because you're having to call instead of sleeping in the same bed. a/n: it sounds like angst but it's mostly fluff. i promise!

If you’re not in bed, by his side, he will call you before every race. He likes to say that not hearing your voice lull him to sleep brings bad luck, and that’s the one thing he won’t risk. You’re convinced it’s just a nice little gesture, but you cherish it nonetheless.

“Baby,” Charles mumbles into the phone, looking at the camera with weary eyes. “Turn your light on. I want to see you.”

“It’s late. I’m heading to bed, too.”

“I know, but I miss your face.”

You know he can see you as well as you can see him—the light from your phones is bright enough—but you turn on your bedside lap, anyway. “Happy?”

“Much happier.” Charles shifts around until his hands are wedged under his pillow and he’s staring at the phone with a lovey-dovey smile. “I can’t believe you had to stay at home.”

“Duty calls,” you say.

“I should be your duty.”

“You will be. Soon enough.”

“Show me.”

Dutifully, you bring up your hand, moving it so that the diamond ring is visible over the camera, as butterflies fill your stomach. It’s been months, yet you’re still not used to it – you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it, it’ll just have one more ring added to it.

“Ah, I can’t wait for you to be mine,” he says.

“I’m already yours.”

“Not officially. And you’re not here.”

You turn the light off, knowing he’s seen what he wanted to see, but your smile still shows on the screen. “I know. I’ll be there for the next race, I promise.”

“The bed feels empty without you, you know,” he murmurs. “Without my fiance.”

“I’ll warm it up soon enough.”

“You better.”

You hear him playing music in the background – sometimes he does that when he can’t fall asleep, when you’re not there. Your heart tugs at its strings but there’s nothing you can do. His eyes are getting heavier, even though he’s trying to keep them open to look at you, and you can tell that he’s not far out from completely falling asleep.

You decide to take the initiative. “I’ll head to bed, I think.”

“You’re only saying that because I’m tired.”

“Maybe,” you say. “Does it make a difference?”

Charles thinks about it. “No. But I wish we didn’t have to sleep apart.”

“I know. Me too. But you need your sleep, my love.”

“I know, I know… I’d just rather be with you.”

“Me, too.”

He looks at you and you see his face soften, even with all the tiredness. His hair is messy and falling over his eyes, a far cry from how he likes to present himself, but this is how you like him best – at his most genuine, most vulnerable. Where he’s not the driver, the Monegasque, but just Charles.

Just yours.

He sighs. “Oh, what would I do to sleep in your arms tonight…”

You feel the pain in his voice as if it were your own. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Don’t apologise. Don’t even think it’s your fault.”

The thing he won’t admit, not to himself and let alone to you—but you can see it—is the reason why he’s still up, way past his bedtime on race day. It’s almost halfway through the season and he’s doing good in the standings, and maybe Ferrari’s luck will turn for the better this year, but Lando’s right behind him and the race tomorrow has to be good if he wants things to stay this way.

The pressure is intense. You can see it in the weariness under his eyes, in the way he’s felt just a little bit aloof in the past week, especially since he landed in Spain. It breaks your heart to watch him like this and not be able to hug him, to hold him, to kiss the fear away.

So you fluff up your pillow and lie down, propping the phone up against what is usually Charles’s pillow. “We can pretend I’m there.”

“How?”

“Stay on call. Fall asleep together. I’ll hear you snoring and it’ll be like I’m there.”

“I don’t snore,” he says, but you can tell that his voice has picked up a little. “Okay. Just falling asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s late.”

You wait as he props the phone up, too, and the camera is half-covered by the pillow, but you don’t say anything. You can just about make out his hair and his eyes, even with his mouth out of sight.

He’s beautiful, no matter what, and you can’t wait to be finally his in every way that matters.

“You’re going to have an amazing race tomorrow, mon cheri.”

Charles kisses his finger then presses it to the camera, whispering sweet nothings to you in French. You feel yourself drifting off, but stay up—just in case—until you hear the familiar snoring, and you were right – it’s almost like you’re right there, right next to him.

When you close your eyes, you can still hear him snoring, and you find that you can easily pretend that you’ll touch him if you just reach over. Sleep takes you with your hand stretched out, lulled into dreams by your fiance’s snoring, and maybe the world won’t fall apart just because you’re not together.

You wake up and he’s gone, the call has ended, but there’s a text message thanking you for last night and telling you how much it helped give him a good night’s sleep, and how much he can’t wait to get back to you on Monday.

Later, some half an hour before the race, you get another text from him: 72 days until you’re mine. That’s who I’m racing for.

You clutch your phone to your chest, praying to all the gods you do and don’t believe it to keep him safe. To let him win without having to sacrifice anything. To bring him home safe, to you in one piece.

Soon enough, you’ll be lying in bed together, falling asleep with your arms wrapped around each other until it gets too hot, and just a little after that, you’ll be doing so while sharing the Leclerc name.

[makenna-made-this]

BAWKtober Day 24 - Hide and Seek

One of these hens is not like the other

(the absolute mindcluckery i went through trying to figure out how the reflections and reflections of reflections would work whY did i do this to myself??)

[gunsatthaphan]

🐶🥹🫳🏻

[zinkysworld]

𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 cannibal sprout

[wntrmelts]

appropriate reaction

[fluffytheocelot]

I’ve made a gif. Enjoy wolfy Carmen.

POV: Jules looked at her

[pinkd3mon]

I just wanted an excuse to draw my Galacta with a cape propaganda

[pencilofawesomeness]

“I made her feel powerless, I knocked her down and— and she still makes me feel scared.” —Satoru, So Find One And Seize It, Chapter 5

So a consequence of rereading Chapters 4 and 5 of SFOASI from The Odyssey series by the utterly incredible HotCocoaaa ( @biscaanii ) and then listening to Hawk in the Night by Maddie Buckley soon afterward is getting immediate brainrot for the most depressingly brutal piece I could start 2024 with. It worked too well for the Gojo Clan, especially Cocoa's rendition of Satoru and his grandmother, Akemi. She's a terrible woman and she fascinates me.

Go read this series guys it's so great—

[fl00mie]

I remember you're genocides 🫵

( do you even remember who moqi is ... hai its me )

now answering to your question.. no sorry i can't remember someone called like that-

(read tags pls)

[cirrus-grey]

As much as I love 'Jon and Martin kissed before the Unknowing' or 'they pined until the safehouse and kissed under the stars on their first night there' headcanons, my real, true, honest-to-gods headcanon for what happened is that they had their first kiss immediately after exiting the Lonely, deep in the tunnels under the Institute.

And I've just realized now, after literally years of holding this headcanon, that this means they probably had their first and last kisses in the same place, holding each other close on the highest floor of the Panopticon.

[2jihiir0]

“…we did it… we kept them safe…”

[emlovessid]

@jegulus-microfic december 24, worth, 120 words

It’s for the best, Regulus tells himself as he waits for James inside the Room of Requirement.

It’s for the best, Regulus tells himself as his hands shake and he takes in the way James smiles at him, knowing it might be the last time.

It’s for the best, Regulus tells himself as he watches James’ eyes fill with tears when he tells him that he’s ending things.

“For what it’s worth, I would have married you, if you’d have stuck around,” James says quietly, and Regulus thinks Crucio would hurt less.

At least he holds it together until James leaves, waiting until the door has slammed shut behind him before sinking to the ground as sobs wrack his body.

[fanmoose12]

Hange would not want this.

It's the only thing on Levi's mind, the one thing he keeps going back to, as he and the kids arrive at a grave that holds no body.

Armin and Mikasa kneel by it, with tears shining in their eyes, and leave a bouquet of sunflowers. Connie reaches out to touch the headstone with reverence, as though hoping that the feeling of cold marble can replace Hange's warmth that's been extinguished. Jean keeps close to the group, but turns his head away, his lips a tight line and eyes cast down to hide the tears brimming in their corners.

Levi watches the pain and sorrow on the kids' faces, his heart squeezing painfully at the sight of it, and hopes that his own expression does not betray the same emotions.

After all, Hange would not want this. They would not wish to see the people that they cared about in such pain, they would not want their memory to be forever tainted with sadness.

They would want to be remembered as vibrant, joyful, full of life, they'd want for people to smile when a thought of them crosses their minds.

They would not want to see tears or hear quiet, broken sobs, they'd want for people to laugh while sharing stories about them, they'd want to continue carrying that light that shone so brightly inside them, always, even in their darkest moments.

It's what Hange would want, Levi knows, because he knew them better than, perhaps, even himself.

So, although it's tempting - oh, so tempting, especially when nights are dark and cold, and all he craves, all he needs is a bit of light he'll never see nor feel again - to succumb to sorrow, he tries his best not to. It'd be easy, so easy to just let grief wash over him, bury himself in its familiar embrace, but then he'd wallow in that endless pit of misery for the rest of his days, and, Levi knows, because he knew Hange better than, perhaps, even himself, that they would not want him to live a life like that.

They gave away everything, after all, their life included, so that all of them could have a chance of surviving, of finding happiness.

So, Levi tries to, even though it's hard, seems nearly impossible without Hange's presence by his side.

But they still watch over him, he knows, because he asked them to, because he wants them to, and so each day Levi does his best to bury the pain of his heartbreak in a grave that holds no body, and soldiers on in a pursuit of a new purpose.

And each night, right before falling asleep, he makes sure to look up at the sky and give it the best smile that he can manage.

He hopes that Hange sees that smile, hopes that they're proud of it, and most of all - he hopes that that smile brings them joy, that it makes them happy, just like as happy as they always made Levi.

Hange wouldn't want him to be sad, Hange would want him to be happy, they’d want his life to be full of joy, and Levi does his best to find it, so that one day, when his and Hange's paths will undoubtedly cross again, he would be able to look in their eyes without a single regret. 

So that one day, when his and Hange’s paths will undoubtedly cross again, they’d be able to share a smile that for now, Levi can offer only to a vast, dark sky.

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

The World Falls Away… And It’s Only Us

OKAY IT'S HERE IT'S 3k WORDS OF SENSELESS RAYLLUM FLUFF HERE YA GO

Callum awoke from a welcome darkness for the first time in a long time. The darkness of dreamless sleep, something he hadn't known since that blasted boat last month.

Well, there hadn't really been much time for his subconscious to produce nightmares anyway, but even if there was, Rayla next to him was a forcefield, pushing all the darkness far away. A glowing beacon, a shining light. His light.

He smiled down at her dozing form, at her silver hair splayed all over the pillow, all the pale skin he could never tire of seeing on full display in the pinkish-gold light of the sunrise, tucked snug and warm under his arm.

Callum kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes and breathing in the smell of her, his beautiful- what were they, exactly? He'd already nearly slipped up and called her his wife in front of Opeli, they hadn't exactly redefined their relationship between kisses and frantically tearing off clothes, and something told Callum that she didn't quite know that she was his very life force, his reason to live, his anchor to this world. That was a mouthful of a title.

She cracked an eye open, immediately going to trace along his skin- ears and hands in particular, as she'd always so loved doing, fascinated. “Mornin'.”

“Morning.” He smiled giddily, fondly, still riding about a thousand highs. He'd kissed Rayla. He'd told Rayla he loved her- and, better yet, she'd said it back. He'd made love to Rayla.

“How did you sleep?” she asked, tucking her head further into his side and allowing him to gently stroke at her horns.

“Oh, I slept awesome.”

Rayla giggled fiercely, tickling his torso. “Me, too. Last night was…” She grinned through long eyelashes, leaning up for a kiss, “Amazing.”

“Mm, you can say that again.” Callum burrowed under the covers of the haphazardly swinging hammock with her, drawing the sheets over them like they were kids in a fort- naked, dirty, stinky kids, but kids in love.

All it took was one look at him for Rayla to collapse in on herself laughing, rolling into his side, which consequentially made Callum lose his grip on the comforter above them. They drowned in a mess of limbs and giggles and suffocating sheets before Rayla managed to wrestle and kick them away, off the foot of the hammock as she pushed her staticky hair out of her flushed, smiling face. She couldn't have possibly been more beautiful.

“My hero,” he said appreciatively, draping his arms around her shoulders and head onto her neck. “Slaying the big bad blankets.”

Rayla puffed up her chest, leaning into him. “I've saved you, fair prince! Now, what is my, a daring knight’s, reward?”

“A kiss?”

“Ah, the best reward of all.”

Callum nearly slipped off the hammock when he kissed her that time, laughing as he planted his arms on either side of her head to keep his balance, and collapsed onto her chest when done. “Did that satisfy my noble savior?”

She lifted her chin. “Yes.”

Only then did Callum allow himself to look around the room, at the discarded pillows and blankets on the floor and the decidedly less innocent mess it would be significantly harder to come up with a believable lie about.

“We should probably, uh… clean up,” he said awkwardly, stilted, yet not embarrassed of the, ahem… mess they'd made. He'd never apologize for loving her or showing how much he loved her.

“We?” Rayla lingered on, smirking at him. “Are you suggesting we bathe together?” She drawled on the last bit lazily, seductively, as if they hadn't just done much more scandalous things than cleaning up together. “That's awfully presumptuous of you.”

Read more on ao3! 😉