#it’s been a draining day oof

[coffiicorgii]

Seeing your dash on my art is such a joy everytime. :-]

(Just adding your second ask here cx!)

Ohh Anon that’s very sweet 💙 thank you! I’m glad my art brings a little happiness to someone else!

[redrobin-detective]

Cloudmates

Zuko had felt alone most of his life.

He didn’t have many friends growing up in the palace, mostly leeching off the ones Azula brought home from school. Azula was a nightmare to talk to, you never knew what she was thinking and every word was a potential weapon in her arsenal. Father certainly didn’t make him feel like he belonged. Even Uncle, for all his patience and kindness, sometimes seemed to look past Zuko, to the man he could be rather than the scared kid he was. Mother had been the only one who seemed to truly see Zuko. The best parts of his childhood were spent describing whatever interest of the moment he had while his mother combed his hair and encouraged him to continue. He’d never felt more comfortable, happy and free as he had in those small, simple moments. Once she left, there really wasn't anyone Zuko felt comfortable being himself with. 

Even when his father made him the most recognizable person in the world, Zuko had never felt more invisible. He dug into the hurt of his wounds, both physical and emotional, and put up the front everyone was expecting of the banished prince on an impossible mission. He felt like an actor in a play, playing a part he hadn’t rehearsed and wasn’t prepared for. The more he tried to mold himself into the kind of prince his father wanted of him, the more he wanted to claw out of his own skin. 

Leaving the Fire Nation and joining the Avatar wasn’t supposed to change anything. He felt more settled, more sure that he was finally on the right path but he still felt like a puppet in someone else’s story. Zuko was prepared to do his duty to the world by training the Avatar before retreating back to solitude. He wasn’t prepared for Sokka.

It started with swords. Sokka had been incredibly unsubtle in his admiration of them from the moment Zuko had joined the group. He’d probably thought the blades had just been for show and thought it would be funny to see an ashmaker clumsily try to use them. Zuko will admit to a bit of cruel satisfaction when he thoroughly trounced Sokka in their spar. The feeling didn’t last, it made him feel too much like Azula. Luckily, Sokka didn’t take the loss badly. In fact, he looked downright ecstatic. 

From that point on, it wasn’t unusual to see Sokka eagerly bouncing on the sidelines as he waited for Aang’s firebending lessons to conclude. Zuko thought he would be annoyed at the intrusion on his time but instead he found himself almost looking forward to it. And if he ended Aang’s training early a few times, well, he doubted the young monk was bothered by it.

Working together and almost dying at the Boiling Rock was what really cemented their relationship. Now it wasn’t just swords, Sokka seemed to come to him for everything. They talked constantly, about anything and everything. Zuko thinks he spoke more over a few days in that temple than he ever did in his weeks back at the palace. Just when he’d thought he’d run out of words or opinions, Sokka would ask another question and more would pour out. 

The water tribe boy was creative and filled with ideas from the bombastic to the mundane. Zuko was a living furnace, stubborn and was pretty decent at physics and calculations. It didn’t take long for them to start supplementing their discussions with tools and inventions. He’d always done things for grand purposes, the idea of just fiddling with pieces of junk while talking seemed an insane waste of time. Zuko loved it.

When he was with Sokka, Zuko felt both smarter and more stupid than he’d ever been. The best part was he didn’t even care which was which.

“We’re - I’m so, so sorry,” Zuko apologized, shaking and fully prepared to beg for mercy on his hands and knees. Sokka was still partially stuck to the wall as Aang and Toph tried to free him, leaving Zuko the unenviable task of preventing Katara from killing them. Katara had gotten more lenient of him since he’d first joined but he didn’t want to test his luck. She was frowning, her lips pressed tightly together as she tried using her bending to pull at the sticky tangle of goop he and Sokka had made out of her hair. To be honest, in the later half of the experiment, he’d plain forgotten what it had been for in the first place.

“You-” she snapped before taking a deep breath and calming herself. “It’s fine,” she said through gritted teeth that said nothing about the situation was fine. “I know this is mostly Sokka’s handiwork. I’ve had to deal with his nonsense my whole life, you’re just helping make the explosions bigger.”

Zuko winced as Katara turned herself away from him. “You know, Sokka has been the oldest boy in our tribe for years since our men went to war. Plus Sokka has always been a bit, well, you know how he is. Until we left the South Pole, he’d never really had any other guys his age to do his weird things with.”

“What about Aang?” Zuko blinked, confused by the non sequitur. Was he going to be made into an ice kabob or not? He needed to ask Sokka what they’d been making before he could die.

“Oh Sokka loves Aang but Aang isn’t going to help him use my best cooking pot to make some sort of spirit blasted nightmare goo,” Katara sighed roughly. “You're off the hook today, just keep my idiot brother safe and please try to tone down, whatever it is you two are always getting up to.”

Zuko didn’t understand the interaction. He asked Sokka about it who also didn’t seem to understand it. They talked at length, again, about crazy prodigy younger sisters. Then Sokka started questioning where they went wrong with their concoction. They sat and worked through the problem until Angi’s blessing could be seen cresting over the horizon.

All too soon, the comet was upon them and the war was over. Zuko knows it was incredibly, horribly selfish of him to say that he wished it could have gone on just a little bit longer. For the first time he had friends; he felt safe and seen in their company. There had never been someone like Sokka in his life - not since his mother - but he wouldn’t dream of talking to mom about some of the things he’d told Sokka. 

Zuko had whispered to the other boy his deepest fears, his regrets, the sources of his shame and pain. He’d told stories he’d never spoken aloud and it was like purging his body of poison, painful but necessary. Zuko had presented all of his weaknesses on a platter for Sokka to abuse and instead got understanding, some very angry tears on his behalf and trust to hold Sokka’s own secrets. It felt so freeing to place so much of himself in another person’s hands and to have it be protected instead of broken. 

The first week after the comet was filled with joy and anxiety as they celebrated a world without war while also struggling to actually end the war. He worked tirelessly during the day, sending out letters and pulling back troops and letting Katara heal him at night. Throughout everything, his friends were always close at hand. It was the most peace Zuko had ever felt in his entire life. He could have lived in those small moments forever. If he’d known it could be like this, he’d have defected the first moment he’d landed at the South Pole. 

Of course, nothing good ever stayed for long with Zuko. Aang had Avatar duties, Toph was obligated to see her parents and the Water Tribe siblings needed to get back to their slowly rebuilding tribe. Zuko’s heart ached at the thought of seeing them leave, of being alone again. He loved them all in their own way but Zuko could admit that he would miss Sokka most of all. Besides Uncle, he was probably Zuko’s most treasured person. 

On the morning they were planning to leave, Zuko was walking down the long hallways of his empty palace. He was bracing himself for the pain and loneliness that was to come. He should have known better than to get attached but he had always been a slow learner. His main goal was to avoid crying until after they were airborne. 

“Hey Fire Lord Jerkbender,” Sokka grinned, flinging an arm around Zuko’s shoulder. He still wasn’t all that used to friendly touch but Sokka always seemed to be the exception. He leaned into it, savoring it before the long goodbye he didn’t know when he’d see the end to. “I hope you’re ready for some tears because Aang is absolutely gonna start crying which will set Katara off and they’ll just become a big puddle. Toph will get punchy and Suki will make the whole thing way more intense than it needs to be. It’s gonna take forever, might even be pushed back to lunch and we’ll have to do it all over again.”

“And what about you?” Zuko asked casually, like he didn’t care. Not at all.

“I want to say I’ll be big and tough and act like it doesn’t affect me,” Sokka shrugged with the arm wrapped around Zuko’s shoulder. “But Katara and I have never been separated for more than a few days since we were born and Aang and Toph have basically become my younger siblings who I would literally die to protect and I know Suki is coming back but-”

“Sokka, what are you talking about?” Zuko asked, shooting him a look. “You’re going with.”

“Oh uh no, I was actually planning on staying with you, here in the Fire Nation.” Zuko gaped at him and Sokka scratched at his hair sheepishly. “The others know which is why this is gonna drag out and I’m only now realizing I forgot to talk to you about it so uh, hey, can I crash at your stupidly big palace for a while? If, uh, that’s okay with you?”

Zuko ought to scream for joy, sequester Sokka deep in the palace before he could change his mind. If he wasn’t already in the process of returning all the lands his family had conquered, he’d offer them to Sokka right now just to keep him here. 

“Don’t you want to go home? See your family?” He asked instead because more than anything, he just wanted his friend to be happy.

“I mean yeah and I will but Zuko, I can’t leave you here to run a country all by yourself. You’re a fancy dancy firebender but you missed out on the fine art of politics-bending,” Sokka said with a little smirk. “I miss things about home but it seems, I don’t know, kinda small now after all I’ve seen. I can’t just go back to making ice forts and penguin sledding like none of this ever happened. Besides, it would feel wrong being there without my sword bending partner, inventing buddy, human heat pack and best friend?”

“I’m your best friend?” Zuko asked quietly.

“Well yeah,” Sokka blushed. “Like the world leader stuff is cool and important but I’m really just staying for you. Don’t tell Toph this but you’re kind of my favorite member of Team Avatar.”

Zuko’s goal is thoroughly on fire. He didn’t even get to the goodbyes before he started crying.

They celebrate the one year anniversary of Ozai’s defeat in Ba Sing Se. It had been hard to make arrangements for everyone to be here but it had been worth it. In the back of the Jasmine Dragon was a small, well maintained garden for outdoor seating on nice days. They’ve moved all the tables aside and were sprawled on the grass, sitting around a fire pit. Just like the good old days, only better.

Sokka had been telling an overly exaggerated story about Fire Sage Reijiro’s reaction to catching Sokka trying to steal scrolls from the Dragon Bone Catacombs. He was lounging in Zuko’s lap; he expertly dodged Sokka’s flailing hands as he told his story, coaxing bigger laughs out of his audience.

“I still have no idea how you smooth talked your way out of that,” Zuko sighed at the end. “I thought I was gonna have to send you back to the South Pole extra crispy.” Everyone laughed at that. Sokka had taught him how to tell jokes now, one of the many things he’d learned over the past year. 

“You know, Zuko,” Aang said with a thoughtful smile, “I think you and Sokka are cloudmates.”

“Huh?” Zuko and Sokka asked at the same time. He gently brushed aside some loose strands of hair from Sokka’s face so it didn’t get in his eye.

“Is this a romance thing because I know I’m rather impressive but I don’t know if I have what it takes to make an honest man of the Fire Lord,” Sokka said with an eye roll. Zuko flicked his ear.

“I mean it can be,” Aang said, leaning back to look at the pink clouds floating above them. “It’s… How do I explain? Sometimes when you look up at the clouds, you can’t tell one from the other. They become so blended that it eventually becomes just one big cloud. Cloudmates are people who are made of the same stuff, who get along so easily, so naturally it’s like one person in two bodies.” The rest of them blinked and also started looking at the heap of clouds.

“I’m intrigued,” Sokka nodded, stroking at his chin. “State your evidence for the court, Avatar.”

“I don’t know if you can have evidence for this sort of thing, you just feel it,” Aang shrugged. “I guess I first thought you guys might be as far back as the Western Air Temple. I mean, you did kinda try and steal away my firebending teacher, Sokka. After all this time, seeing you two more, I think I’m certain now. You’re your own person, with unique ideas and experiences but you’re also something else, something better, together. You’re not just Sokka or Zuko but you’re also Zuko&Sokka.” Aang continued.

“I mean we all are made up of the same bits, bone and blood and squishy organs,” Sokka frowned thoughtfully, his eyes flicking up to Zuko’s. “What do you think, Your Royal Fieriness? Is my cloud all mixed up with your cloud?”

Zuko wasn’t sure he was a cloud. He’d been a victim, a prince, a traitor, a teacher and the biggest idiot the world had ever seen. He’d felt like he’d been so many things in so little time, too much of him and his shame piling up to fit into one person. But to think he was something like Sokka, by far one of the cleverest, bravest, kindest people he’d known, maybe there was hope for him yet. 

“I suppose,” Zuko said flippantly, “that your cloud and my cloud may intermingle but only if you promise when you get back to the South Pole that you will prepare a room for me. As Fire Lord, I need to see for myself that diplomatic matters with my fellow nations are being handled correctly.” He grinned down at his friend. “I will need to speak to someone important about reparations and moving forward. Know someone who can work with me?”

“Oh, I think I know a guy,” Sokka laughed back. Overhead, the pink dusted clouds gently moved past in a big pile, separate but intrinsically linked.

[msommers]

can't sleep. plagued with the thought of riya being capable of summoning a storm cloud to zap darkspawn for a full hour each day and how sickening that is for the 10 day long battle at val foret

[dualisume]

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[aisiedaisie]

hi <3 this is super self-indulgent haha…but would you be willing to write a poly!wolfstar with a reader who still has their like raggedy lovey stuffed animal from when they were a baby that maybe they were hiding from the boys and how they react to finding out? xx

Hello hello~! This is absolutely adorable! I’m definitely guilty of holding onto childhood plushies too, so this is a bit self-indulgent for me as well. I really hope you enjoy!!! 

Poly!Wolfstar x Fem!Reader WC: 1.1k

You flop down onto the fresh, unfamiliar bed, surrounded by boxes and bags, the remnants of your old flat strewn across the floor. Today was all about hauling practically everything from your last place into your boyfriend's house—your new home.

You’re grateful for this room of your own. It’s small, but that was your one non-negotiable condition. You love them both fiercely, but there’s something about having a sanctuary to retreat to, a space that’s just yours.

Their bed may be huge, but you know yourself: the thought of sharing it every night feels a bit too close for comfort, especially with everyone's mismatched schedules.

Plus, you’ve learned the hard way about Sirius’s habit of kicking in his sleep. He’d boot you clear off the bed at four in the morning if you gave him the chance. And Remus? He’s a snuggler—a heavy, unyielding snuggler. When he wraps an arm around you, it’s like being pinned by a warm, affectionate weight. Charming, absolutely, but not so convenient when you really have to pee in the morning.

So here you are, content but completely drained, with the three of you spending most of the day heaving boxes into the car and scrubbing down your old flat.

“Oh, it feels good to just lie down,” you groan, the ache of a long day catching up with you.

“I told you to wear comfortable shoes, dove,” Remus says softly, leaning against the doorframe and watching you with a fond smile.

You turn your head, flashing him a tired grin. “In my defense, I thought these were comfortable.”

“And is our princess now resting in her royal quarters?” Sirius quips, appearing just behind Remus, fresh from hauling a load of flattened boxes down to the bin.

“Absolutely,” you tease, shaking your head at his playful tone. “Thanks for helping me out. I’m sorry Marls had to back out last minute.” You sigh, thinking of how your best friend had called that morning with the news: her girlfriend had been in a minor accident at work and had to be rushed to the hospital. You could hardly blame her for canceling; if either of your boys were in the hospital, you’d drop everything to be there, too.

“Anytime, darling,” Sirius murmurs as he strolls into the room. With a dramatic flop, he lands on his back on the far side of the bed, letting out a soft “oof.” It’s an endearing sound that makes you laugh, even as you feel the day’s exhaustion settling in.

“Well?” You turn to Remus, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Planning to join us?” The question comes out with a flirtatious smile, hinting at just how much you’d love him to join you and Sirius.

Remus rolls his eyes, but there’s a softness there, too, as he lets out a gentle sigh. Shaking his head with a small, amused smile, he pads over to the foot of the bed and settles down, reaching for both of you. His hands find their way into your hair and Sirius’s, brushing through in a familiar, calming rhythm, almost like he’s petting two contented cats.

Sirius stretches his arms, accidentally knocking one of the many decorative pillows off the bed. With a groan, he slides down to his knees to retrieve it, grabbing the plush white pillow and tossing it haphazardly back onto the bed. But as he does, something else catches his eye—a faded mint-green fabric peeking out from an open duffel bag beside the bed.

“Siri?” Remus calls out, noticing that Sirius hasn’t returned to join them.

Curious, you sit up, wondering why he’s so distracted. Army-crawling to the edge of the bed, you spot his gaze fixed on the bag, and your heart skips a beat as you realize what he’s staring at.

Panicking, you scramble off the bed and slide down beside him, nearly losing your balance in the rush. Remus’s concerned voice cuts in as he leans over, “Dove, you alright?” But you’re already reaching for the item that has Sirius’s full attention, fumbling slightly in an attempt to tuck it out of sight.

Sirius’s brows lift with curiosity. “What are you hiding?” he asks, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he tries to gently wrestle the object from you.

“Nothing!” you whine, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

Remus raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “That doesn’t look like ‘nothing,’” he says with a smirk. “Especially if you’re going to all this trouble to hide it.”

You squeal, feeling a mix of embarrassment and nervousness as you pull the plush tightly to your chest.

Sirius’s hands stop their playful struggle, but he keeps them on your back, rubbing soothing circles as he softens his tone. “Baby?”

You groan, sitting up and holding the well-loved, slightly worn mint-colored bunny in your arms. The little plush flops over as you look down at it, feeling a bit sheepish.

"My mom got her for me when I was a baby," you explain, your voice quiet but steady. "I know it's childish to still sleep with plushies at my age, but... she's just always been there for me. Through everything—moving around, tough nights, even all the times I was scared or stressed. It’s like… having a little piece of home with me."

Sirius's expression softens, a warm smile tugging at his lips. "That’s not childish at all, Love," he says, rubbing a gentle hand over your back. "Everyone needs something that makes them feel safe."

Remus nods in agreement, reaching out to touch the bunny's worn little ear. "And besides," he says with a grin, "if anyone gives you trouble about it, just remember who they’re talking to. You’ve got two knights here who’d defend a bunny’s honor, no questions asked."

You laugh, feeling a rush of relief. Hugging the bunny a bit tighter, you feel their arms wrap around you, holding you just as close.

"I love you both so much—" your voice comes out soft, but the warmth in it is unmistakable. You don’t even get a chance to finish before Sirius practically pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms tighter around you with a grin that practically lights up the room.

"Good," he says, squeezing you reassuringly. "Because we're not going anywhere."

Remus leans in on your other side, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with that gentle smile of his. "We love you too," he murmurs. "And that bunny? She’s part of the family now."

You can’t help but laugh, your heart feeling lighter than it has in ages as you sit there, held in the arms of the two people who mean everything to you, with your cherished bunny nestled close. In that moment, you know for certain that home isn’t just a place—it’s right here, with them.

[mostmagical]

was in desperate need of some serotonin today, so here's some quick post-reveal bed-sharing

Words: 1K+ Summary:

Marinette wakes up to a bump in the night. It’s her boyfriend (and not in the way you’d think).

Thump.

The sound tore Marinette from her sleep. She shot straight up in bed, frantically scanning the area for danger. With a start, she realized she wasn’t in her room. Memories were returning slowly as she recalled deciding with Adrien to spend the night at his for once, both too tired after the long day to trek the extra few blocks to hers.

She gasped— Adrien. Her hand patted down the area to her immediate left, seeking his warmth where she was used to finding it. A steady rhythm from her heart beat against her rib cage as she turned to see his side of the bed empty.

“Oof,” a soft sigh breathed from the floor.

Marinette was leaning over the edge in a flash, finding her boyfriend rubbing his eyes as he slowly sat up.

“Adrien!” she gasped. “What happened? What are you doing?”

His eyes flickered to hers, bright even in the dark, and he chuckled. “I think” —his hand moved to massage his side, low by his hip— “it was a well-timed kick to my side.”

Her heart dropped in her chest. “What?”

He laughed again, pulling himself back onto the bed and taking her into his arms. “What kind of dream were you having, Buginette?” he asked. “Must have been pretty intense.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” she said, pushing against his chest so she could continue looking into his face. Mirth danced through his green eyes. “Are you implying that I kicked you out of the bed?” she asked disbelievingly. “Why are you so calm about it?”

“Oh. It’s not the first time.”

“What?”

Adrien shrugged. “Well, usually, when we’re at your place, I just kinda end up pushed against the wall? The loft has that nice built-in baby gate, lucky for me. This is the first time I’ve actually fallen out.”

Her jaw dropped open. This was mortifying information to receive in the middle of the night. “Adrien,” she said sternly, taking his shoulders in her hands and staring intensely into his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me I kick you every night?”

“It’s not every night,” he replied dismissively. She gave him a look. “Okay, it is most nights, but still! Not every night!”

“I don’t care how often it is!” She shook his shoulders, his body pliantly rocking back and forth with her movements. “Why wouldn’t you tell me so I can stop? I must be ruining your sleep!”

“I don’t mind.” He smiled, the picture of innocence. “I think it’s cute.”

Marinette wanted to growl, but she knew it wouldn’t be nearly as intimidating as she wanted it to with the red she could feel all over her face. She groaned, dragging her hands down her cheeks until the skin stretched. “What’s wrong with you?”

Again, Adrien gathered her in his arms, this time with Marinette accepting the embrace. She curled up against his chest as she felt him press a delicate kiss to the crown of her head. “It’s an honor to be your punching bag,” he joked.

“Adrien,” she groaned, thunking her head against his shoulder, “shut up.”

“Sorry.”

“Wait, no, that makes me feel worse,” she hastened to say. “I need to apologize to you! I’m sorry.”

He chuckled again, his warm breath tickling her forehead as it passed through her hair. “Like I said, I really, really don’t mind.”

“Why don’t you mind?” She pouted, tilting her head up to look at him. “Doesn’t it wake you up?”

“Sometimes, yeah, but–” He sighed as he seemed to look for the right words. His mouth tilted in a half-smile. “I like knowing you’re still there with me.”

All the embarrassment drained out of her as she noticed his tone change. “Do you think I would go somewhere?”

“Technically, no,” he answered honestly, “but sometimes… in the back of my mind…”

She frowned. “You get anxious.”

He took in a breath. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Marinette wrapped her arms around his midsection, pressing her face into his worn cotton t-shirt. He smelled of citrus and the fresh linen scent of her Maman’s favorite laundry detergent, making her smile. He smelled of home.

“I’d never leave you, Adrien,” she murmured.

“I know.”

“Especially not in the middle of the night.”

He laughed. “I know.” His arms tightened around her as he laid their bodies back down against the pillows. “We’re a package deal. A bonded pair.”

“Exactly,” she huffed. Leaning up on one arm, she poked him in the chest. “But you really should have told me I was kicking you in my sleep. I feel like a jerk.”

“A cute jerk.”

“Stop calling it cute!”

He waggled his eyebrows as he grinned at her. “It’s not my fault that everything you do is cute.”

She growled frustratedly. She wanted to be angry, but instead she pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose. “You’re so annoying.”

“Annoying and cute?”

Rolling her eyes, she leaned back onto his chest. “Yes,” she huffed.

Adrien laughed again, the sound reverberating in her eardrum. She loved the quiet moments like this where she could hear everything— his laugh, his breaths, his heart beating in his chest. The arm wrapped around his middle tugged him closer, and in response he squeezed her tighter against him.

“Seriously,” she mumbled, “wake me up next time. I don’t want to kick you out of bed.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” he whispered back. She opened her mouth in protest, but he spoke again before she could, “Sometimes it’s just a little nudge. Like this:” His foot connected with her shin under the blankets, gently pushing against her with featherlight pressure.

“Oh.”

“See? Nothing.”

“But–”

“And the kicking,” he interrupted, knowing exactly what she was going to say, as always, “I don’t mind, because I can always tell when you’re having a dream. And I like knowing that.” His thumb was brushing over the exposed skin on her shoulder, lulling her back towards sleep.

Against the siren song, she shook her head. “Still, if you ever want to wake me up– even just to talk, I want you to wake me up,” she whispered.

“Now, I know that’s sleep-Marinette talking.”

She would have rolled her eyes if she thought he could see it. “Ha ha,” she said sarcastically. “I mean it. I’d gladly lose a couple hours’ sleep for you.” She turned her head to press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Especially knowing you would for me.”

“I would. Anytime.”

“I know.”

“Okay,” he mumbled into her hair, his lips brushing her scalp, “I’ll try not to let you attack me inexorably again.” She heard him breathe deeply, his chest expanding beneath her head.

“You’re lucky I’m so tired right now, kitty cat,” she mumbled, her eyes sliding shut.

“Yeah, I really am. I love you."

"Love you too..." she managed before sleep pulled her back in, warm in Adrien’s arms.

[grandlinedreams]

helloooo!! i was wondering if you could write a story about how law and the reader had a fight, but the reader feels really bad about it,, so they take a hit for him in an battle and almost die ?!!

i understand if you don’t feel comfortable with writing this,,, have a good day/night !!🫶🏻

OUGH I LOVE THAT TROPE TOO GOD LET'S BRING THE PAIN TRAIN but also love putting Law in situations. like bro if you didn't want to don't be so blorbo (borrowing a lil bit from one of my favorite books bc it has a scene like that and OOF)

[heads up!: angst, blood/injury]

There's blood on his hands.

Thick and smelling of copper, it covers his tattoos, his fingertips, his palms. When he looks at his reflection, he distantly notes that it's spattered against his neck and his shirt, too.

There's so much of it, and none of it is his.

"Captain?" Bepo's voice is small and hollow, uncertain as he watches Law sway a little at the sink before he turns the handle and begins scrubbing at his hands. "Are you okay?"

Law wants to laugh. What a stupid question ㅡ but he isn't sure how to answer. Does Bepo mean physically? Mentally? Emotionally? He scrubs at his nails, watches his skin tint pink from the force. Watery red swirls down the drain. "I'm fine, Bepo."

They both know he's lying.

ㅡ

"I'm telling you, this is a bad idea!" Your eyes are narrowed, blazing with fury as you jab your finger into Law's chest for emphasis. "You know better than this. There's no way this will end well, Law. You're going to get someone killed!"

Law's temper flares, and he reaches to bat your hand away from him before he steps around you. "If you have such a problem with the way I lead this crew, then maybe you shouldn't be part of it."

Law won't let anyone else change your bandages.

He winds and unwinds them, an endless loop with peeks at skin knitted back together with thick black thread. His hands ache with the memory of sewing you back together, knowing he'd been actively trying to wrench death's bony fingers from around you.

Pulling back, his gaze drifts over the bandages to the steady rise and fall of your chest. If there's a god who takes requests, he's ready to offer up a plea for you to make it out of this. You have to. You need to.

He still has to apologize.

ㅡ

It takes almost a week before you open your eyes. It's the twitch of your fingers that alerts him first, the shift in your breathing ㅡ and then you're staring at him. Your expression is blank and your eyes are still a little cloudy from medicated sleep, but you're awake. You're alive.

There are a thousand things that Law could say and should, but what tumbles from his lips is nowhere close to any of them.

"You're an idiot."

You blink at him. "Your bedside manner is terrible," you croak, hissing when pain lances up your left side like a wildfire. "What happened? Did I get in a fight with a sea king and lose?"

Law doesn't laugh at your attempt at humor, terrible as it is. He lets his gaze drift, assessing your injuries from minor to major, as he's done for days now. He doesn't want to look at the biggest one, the one that almost took you from him ㅡ so he stares at the bandaid on your cheek. "You were right," he finally says. "About that informant."

You blink. "Oh." You try to move a little, trying to see what else hurts. "Could you repeat that? It's not every day that I hear you admit that I was right about something."

His eyes narrow as his temper flares. "Don't joke," he hisses, "you almost died because you just had to get in the way."

He's doing this all wrong, he knows that ㅡ but he can't quite control his tongue because somewhere he's still a child demanding to know why someone is willing to risk their life for him.

"You're right," you say, and when he looks up he finds you watching him, expression neutral. "I shouldn't joke. I'm sorry."

Law studies you for several long minutes before he speaks again. "Why did you do it?"

"What do you mean?"

His eyes narrow. "Don't play dumb, [Name]. You know what I mean."

You stare at the ceiling, counting the rivets. "Because the Heart Pirates are nothing without our captain," you say, "because we can't afford to lose you. And...I needed to apologize."

Law stares.

"...Apologize." He hears you mumble softly, paler than he's ever seen you as he gathers you up, clutches at you like that alone will stop you from bleeding to death before he ever gets a chance to try and save you.

"So you almost got yourself killed in order to apologize to me? That'sㅡ"

"Something an idiot would do," you interrupt. "Good to know I'm doing what's expected of me."

"Youㅡ" Law shuts his mouth with the click of teeth, jaw taut as he tries his best not to blow up on you before his shoulders sag with a sigh. "Just concentrate on healing. And don't pull a stupid stunt like this ever again." He reaches up, giving the brim of his hat a nervous tug. "I don't like almost losing crewmates."

He doesn't like almost losing you.

"Does that mean I'm still part of the Heart Pirates?" He's confused by your question before the crux of this entire ordeal comes back to him ㅡ the argument the two of you'd had. He doesn't know if you mean to turn the knife, but you do as you repeat his words to him. "If you have such a problem with the way I lead this crew, then maybe you shouldn't be part of it."

His stomach twists. "You're still part of this crew," he reassures you, "which is why I'm telling you that you're not allowed to pull stupid stunts like this again. Am I clear?"

Your eyes lock. "Yes, captain."

The expression on his face softens. "Good."

[lovings4turn]

[ 🐈‍⬛ ] slide out the window — send me a prompt + a character / driver , and i'll write a mini fic based off of it

oscar piastri + cuddles after a loooong media day 🫶🏽

oh i absolutely adored this idea , thanks sm for sending it in lovely !!!

"god, 'm so tired."

oscar hadn't even bothered to change, still sporting his bright orange - no, sorry, papaya - mclaren shirt as he made his way over to where you were sat on the couch.

his feet dragged across the floor, and though he was smiling, you could tell he was absolutely exhausted. in the four years you'd known him, oscar had never been the most energetic person, and you could tell that the long media days that came with being a formula one driver were beginning to get to him.

with an understanding pout, you pulled back your blanket opened your arms, mumbling a c'mere. a small 'oof' escaped you as oscar flopped into your arms, all but collapsing on top of you as his head found its way into the crook of your neck.

"long day?" you asked, despite already knowing the answer.

you brought one hand up to his hair, gently running your fingers through the strands as the other drew shapes against the skin of his bicep.

"they're trying to kill me," oscar responded, his words muffled. "i haven't stopped since this morning."

"y'poor thing."

you were half teasing, but still felt a pang of sympathy for your boyfriend. you could imagine it was draining to do a day full of media, having to be full of energy and responsive at all times to avoid rumours of being 'rude' or 'boring'.

after a few moments of you holding him, oscar began to relax under your touch. he lifted his head, brown eyes swirling pools of honey as they scanned your features fondly. he pressed a soft, chaste kiss to your lips before returning his head to the crook of your neck, pressing another kiss to the skin he found there.

if you didn't know any better, you'd think oscar was trying to merge his body with your own, climb under your skin so he'd never be separated from you again.

but you knew your boyfriend far too well, and cuddles were the quickest way for him to bounce back from a drained social battery. you were more than happy to nurse him back to health, even if your arms eventually went numb underneath the weight of his body.

cuddling oscar was an honour you would cherish, and as his breathing evened out above you, you felt like the luckiest person on earth.

[cyarikaplease]

this is the way to behave

professor!din x student!reader

summary: act up in professor djarin’s class, suffer the consequences.

warnings: smut

You’re in your senior year at Coruscant University, inching closer and closer to finally graduating. You’re a history major and while you love history with all of your heart, school is draining you. So when your advisor tells you that you have to take Mandalorian Studies this semester, you’re less than thrilled. She sends you a copy of your schedule on your data pad and you take a look at the Mandalorian Studies section you’re in. And apparently, it’s being taught by Professor Djarin? You don’t even know who that is. Maybe they’re new to campus or an adjunct professor? Whoever they are, you hope they’re a good professor, or else this is about to be the longest and most boring semester of your life. 

You send your schedule to your friends, Helia and Mione, also history majors. To your delight, they’re both in Mandalorian Studies with you. At least you can goof off together. You’re so close to graduating that class isn’t that big of a deal for you anymore, you already have some promising job prospects after graduation. You’ll just have to suffer through this boring class. But at least you and your friends will do it together… Right?

-

It’s the first day of the semester. You’re about to head to Mandalorian Studies, in a particular part of campus you don’t normally frequent. The classroom is your typical university lecture hall, with a pitched floor with a desk situated in the center, large screens behind the desk, and seats on each of the steps. Your friends wave to you and you head over to them, sitting in the seat they saved. 

“Are you ready for the most boring class ever?” Helia snickers. 

“Don’t get me started,” you groan. 

You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, shielding them from the bright lights of the lecture hall. Until you hear a collection of gasps followed by one of your classmates saying, “That’s the professor?”

Your eyes fly open to see a Mandalorian in shiny beskar armor heading down the steps to the desk in the center of the floor. Kriff, you didn’t think the professor himself would actually be a Mandalorian. 

He faces the class, a group of about forty students, and takes a deep breath. 

“Hello. I’m Professor Djarin. Welcome to Mandalorian Studies. This semester we’ll be learning about Mandalorian culture starting from the beginning until the present day.”

Maker, his voice is so nice, with a sultry modulated tone. Maybe you could get used to this. At least the boring topics will have a soothing feel to them. 

That is if you pay attention. Because all of a sudden class is over and you didn’t retain a single piece of information. Great. 

As you leave the classroom you glance over your shoulder and get one last look at Professor Djarin. He notices and his visor locks onto you, so you look away quickly and feel your cheeks go hot. 

Upon entering the hallway your friends say, “Total snooze fest, right?” followed by a laugh. 

“I mean…” you respond. 

“Don’t tell me you actually enjoyed that,” Mione says. 

“I didn’t enjoy it. I just think his voice is nice.”

“Maybe it would be nicer if he wasn’t talking about the most mind-numbing topics in the world,” Helia says. 

“Yeah… I wasn’t paying attention,” you admit. 

“Oof, don’t make that a habit if you actually want to pass. I have no idea how this guy grades,” Helia says, pretending to scold you. 

“Oh, he seems like a total hardass,” you snort. 

You all groan in unison. Here’s to the start of a long semester. 

-

It’s been a few weeks since your class with Professor Djarin started. You’ve been doing… alright. It’s been a little tough to pay attention between zoning out to the sound of his deep voice or your friends goofing off. You got a B+ on your last paper, not your best but also not your worst! It was a paper on the Siege of Mandalore during the Clone Wars, so lots of information and also a heavy topic. 

You’ve also come to a realization you haven’t shared with your friends… Professor Djarin is hot, like really hot. You don’t even know what he looks like under all the armor but between that voice and the way he saunters into the classroom and the way he tilts his helmet to the side whenever he’s listening to someone talk, and- Kriff, you got it bad. 

You’re not even subtle about it, fully checking him out as he’s in the middle of lectures, admiring the way he rests a hand in his belt… the arrow on his glove pointing directly to where his cock is under his flight suit. 

Class is about to get a lot worse for you though. Because you’re sitting in the back like you and your friends typically do. And Professor Djarjn is explaining the Mandalorian phrase “This is the way” and… you all can’t stop laughing. 

“This is wayyy,” Helia says in the sassiest but also quietest voice she can muster. 

“This is the wahhh,” Mione says, holding back her own laughter. 

It shouldn’t be funny but it is. And you’re doing your best to stifle your laughs but it’s hard, threatening to rip themselves free from your throat. You swipe the tears from the corners of your eyes and blink a few times to regain focus to see… Professor Djarin staring directly at you. 

“Oh kriff, guys stop it,” you say, lightly slapping Helia on the arm. 

“What?” she asks before following your gaze and realizing what’s going on. “Oh,” she lets out softly. 

For the rest of the class you don’t look at each other, because if you do the laughter threatens to come back. Thankfully, Professor Djarin didn’t say anything. Maybe it’ll all be okay. 

Class is over finally and you get ready to leave. But before you pass through the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder followed by your name being called out. It’s Professor Djarin. You don’t even need to turn around to confirm it. The voice is a dead giveaway. 

You turn around to face the stone-cold glare of the T-shaped visor and take a deep breath. 

“Can you stay back for a moment?”

“S-Sure.”

“You guys don’t have to wait. I’ll catch up with you later,” you say to your friends, both of them looking like they’ve seen a ghost judging by their clammy, panicked appearance. 

This has to be about what happened in class just now. What else could it possibly be? 

But if this is about being reprimanded… Why isn’t he making them stay after class, too?

He walks past you and locks the door, before turning to you and saying, “Meet me by my desk.”

He heads down to the desk and you gulp. Why did he lock the classroom door? This can’t be good. 

You head down the steps and set your bag on an empty chair before walking over to him, facing him and his glaring stance. 

“Do you know why I’m speaking to you privately right now?”

“Look, if this is about what me, Helia and Mione were doing, I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect. I was trying not to laugh but-”

“Oh, before we even get to the topic of that. We need to talk about you eyeing me up and down like a piece of meat, in my own classroom.”

“Uhh-”

“Oh yes, I noticed, pretty girl. Doesn’t help that you’re so obvious about it.”

You’re mortified right now, completely skipping over the fact that he called you pretty girl. As soon as this little talk is over, you’re heading to your advisor’s office and dropping this class. 

“I’m-I’m sorry,” you manage to spit out. 

“That’s all you have to say?”

“W-what do you want me to say?”

“How about I’m sorry, sir?” 

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I don’t think that’s enough. I think you need to be punished.”

“What? Please, sir. I’ve already apologized.”

“And I said I don’t think that’s enough, pretty girl. Bend over the desk.”

You can’t deny how hot this is. Being disciplined by the hot professor? Never in your wildest dreams did you think this would happen, especially in this class. 

You move around to the back of the desk, bending over and resting on your elbows. You picked the worst day (or maybe the best day) to wear a skirt. As you bend over, your skirt rides up, exposing more of your thighs. He moves behind you, running his gloved hands along your soft flesh. 

“And who do you think you are? Wearing this short skirt to my class like a whore. Did you want my attention?”

“Maybe…”

“What was that?” he says, resting a hand on your ass. You also picked the worst day (or again, maybe the best day) to go commando. You shiver at the feeling of the leather against your bare ass. 

“Yes, sir,” you say, gasping at the end of your sentence as he runs finger along your entrance. You’re already soaked, having fantasized about him in every class since you laid eyes on him. And of course he notices, bringing his hand in front of your face to show you the physical proof. 

“Dirty, dirty girl, getting wet in class while I’m just trying to teach… Time for you to get punished.”

He moves his hand from your face and spanks you on the ass, the leather colliding with your skin. You let out a moan, the stinging feeling left on your skin in the aftermath. 

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he rasps by your ear. 

Another spank. Another moan, this one deeper than the last. 

“Dirty girl likes getting punished over my desk, doesn’t she?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, getting off from the sound of his voice and the feeling of his gloves on your ass. 

“Thought so,” he tuts, drawing his hand back and spanking your ass again. 

You moan again and he says, “I don’t think the spanking is enough. I think you need a real punishment.”

“Please, sir.”

He runs his hand along your wetness again before sliding a finger inside, slowly working your walls before adding a second one. You think about his gloved fingers, pumping in and out of you. Kriff, that thought drives you crazy. 

“You get to cum when I say so, got it? And don’t even think about coming without telling me, or I’ll pull out so fast.”

You whine in response, prompting him to grab you by the throat and pull you upright against him. 

“Got it?” he reiterates. 

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Be a good girl for me,” he teases, letting go of your throat and bending you over the desk again. 

He curls his fingers inside you, pressing up against your g-spot. You feel your pleasure mounding, teetering on the edge of orgasm. You do your best to hold off, to wait for his approval but it’s too hard. 

“Please, sir. Can I cum?”

“Not yet,” he commands. 

You whimper in response, fearing you won’t be able to hold on and you’ll be punished. 

“Please, sir,” you beg, the desperation heavy in your voice. 

“Fine,” he sighs, feigning kindness. 

You cum around his fingers, his leather-clad fingers, shaking against the desk. You shake a little bit, knees threatening to give out just from being fingered. He pulls his fingers from you once you’re done coming, spreading your release around his cock and slamming into you, giving you no time to recover. 

“Oh, kriff,” you curse, walls adjusting to the newfound length and girth inside you.

“You can take it,” he commands. 

“Yes, sir,” you spit in between your labored breathing. 

His hands grip your hips tightly as he fucks you against the desk, making it shake beneath you. He pulls you into him as he thrusts back into you, making your ass slam up against his groin, all while he talks you through it. 

“Dirty girl likes taking my cock over my desk, huh?”

“It’s- it’s so good, sir,” you respond, completely blissed out. 

“Oh, I know. And you’re taking it like such a good girl,” he praises. 

You whimper at his praise and stars cloud your vision, the euphoria swirling throughout your body.

“Can I please cum?”

“I suppose since you’re taking my cock so good, pretty girl.”

His praise does it again, pushing you over the edge. You cum around his cock, convulsing and gripping him as you ride out your high. The lecture hall is filled with the sounds of your moans and cries as he fucks you through your release. 

“Good girl,” he praises, his voice dripping with his own pleasure. 

He grunts and you feel his cock twitch inside you. Kriff, he’s going to cum soon. Before you can even tell him to pull out he’s painting your insides with his release, holding your hips in place. He pulls out of you once he’s done and you collapse onto the desk, your knees finally giving out. 

There’s a layer of wetness in between you and the desk. Professor Djarin chuckles and says, “Look at you. Made a mess all over my desk.” 

You pull yourself off and smooth down your skirt, averting your gaze to the floor. 

“Sorry about that,” you say sheepishly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles again. 

“Well, uh, I’m sorry about what happened in class earlier. It won’t happen again,” you respond, suddenly feeling embarrassed. 

You grab your bag off the chair and quickly head out. But before you can leave through the door, he says, “Feel free to stay late after the next class,” in a sly tone, hands on hips. 

You nod, feeling your face go hot, and dart out the door. 

Yeah, you’re definitely not dropping his class now. 

[pinejayy]

Hi! Can I request the hantengu clones x reader who is a couple inches taller than them? Because it's canon their like 5'5 (short kings)

I might send in another request later if I feel like it so I hope you don't get annoyed with that.

Have a great day/night and please take your time with this request! :)

sure thing!! sorry about the wait. i've been busy and i've also been drained with this arizona heat. uwu and oof i'm like 4'11, the clones would treat me like a stepping stool

Hantengu Clones x Taller Reader

Sekido

Oh boy he would be pisssed about your height difference, like how is a human taller than him! It's not fair! And of course you're gonna tease the heck out of him and he's going to get very upset. As you guys were hanging out in your home he was yelling at the clones as always.

As you walked out the three clones had their heads down, you couldn't help but sigh and roll your eyes. "YOU GUYS NEVER LISTEN TO ME! I'M YOUR LEADER AND YOU SHOULD FOLLOW ORDERS!"

As you walked towards them, you rest your arm on his head. And he stopped talking for a moment before looking at you, he had a scowl. "What are you doing Y/N?" He growled softly.

"Nothing, just wanna know why you're yelling this time." You say, as you pinch his cheek slightly. And this made him even more upset, and he slapped your hand away. "Aw is the little guy mad?"

He looked at you, and his head snapped towards the other clones. "Leave...go away, go find us some food, and bring Y/N some food too."

"But! We can't go without you!" Aizetsu would say softly, making Sekido growl quite loud.

"I don't care you fuckhead, go.." He hissed, and soon after the three Demons would leave you two alone. You just stood there with a smirk on your face. And within a split second you were pinned against the wall. He growled. "Why are you always mocking me for my height, do you find it funny?" He said, holding onto you.

"Very much!" You say with a smile. He then chuckled. He looked at you, as you look down at your boyfriend you always enjoyed teasing him because you always got a good punishment from him.

"Oh is that so? You like mocking me huh?" He whispers, soon after he forced you onto your knees. "Now look whose the short one now..." He said, gripping your hair hair harshly. "Now be a good human and make it up to me." He whisper softly, as you were on your knees. Smirking as you look up at him. "Yes sir."

Karaku

He would honestly be very jealous, he gets embarrassed from your teasing. And his brothers would laugh at him whenever you mocked him but they would be silenced within a few seconds because you also remind them of their height too. Currently you were with Karaku in your room the clones were getting ready to leave for a mission.

But of course you wanted to tease your boyfriend would leave so you held onto his leaf fan. And he was looking it for everywhere and the other clones were waiting for him and Sekido was getting really impatient. "HURRY UP WILL YOU! WE DON'T HAVE ALL NIGHT!" He yelled out throughout the house.

Making you giggle, as you saw him looking for it. "Hey Honey." You cooed out softly, holding onto the fan behind you.

"Not now Y/N, can't you see I'm busy." He said, poor demon was stressed out. "Where did I leave it?"

"Oh you mean this?" You say, and held his fan out in front of him. Making him jump and run towards you and he was about to grab his fan but you held your arm up, making him frown at your action. "Aw are you upset? Do you need this?"

"Yes please, Sekido is up my ass. Please sweetheart." He begged, as he tried to reach for the fan but couldn't get it. Making you laugh as you shook your head. He then smirked, he leaned in and placed a kiss on your nose and he began to tickle you. And once you were laughing and once you started to squirm around he quickly grabbed his fan and ran out the door.

But before he could leave he yelled out throughout the house. "Be ready when I come back. I'll show you something long."

Aizetsu

He would want to be treated like a baby honestly like he loves your height difference, he loves how tall you are. But he still has his strength so he has the going for him. You don't tease him too much because one time you mocked him a little to harsh about your height difference and the blued eyed demon cried. But at the moment you guys were enjoying some alone.

Aizetsu was crying at the moment as you held him, and with you being taller than him he always wanted to be the little spoon, he loves the feeling of your arms wrapped around his body.

You rubbed his back as he cried softly. "I don't understand why my brothers are so mean to me.." He sobbed softly. You frowned, you honestly hated how they treated him. "It's okay my Love, the others are just upset because they don't have that special someone."

He looked at you and you smile weakly, wiping away his tears. "Shh don't cry, look since they aren't here why don't we do something to piss them off." You say and he looked at you confused but he just nodded. Making you smile, you grab his hand and ran out of your room.

You decided to grab their favorite things and put it on highest shelf of the house, and Aiztsu couldn't but but giggle. His brothers were gonna be upset. As you were done doing your thing he walked up to you and hugged you tight. You smile and hug back putting your head on top of his head. "I love you Y/N."

"I love you too love."

And within a few hours you guys were holding each other and you could hear the other clones yelling at each other. "Come on Urogi use your wings to help us get our things!" and you also heard. "Now fuck you guys. Get your things on your own."

Urogi

He would be the one who wouldn't give a fuck. Like he has wings he can literally "make himself taller" with them. Like you could be teasing him and he'll just flap his wings slightly and make himself taller than you, but by only a few inches. But you still mock him and are always telling him he can't do that.

But as for the moment you guys were walking around the woods, the moon was pretty tonight. As you guys walked you couldn't help but look at him, smirking at the Demon. You felt like pushing his buttons today.

"So how's the weather down there." You teased him as you kept walking, and he looked at you and stopped walking. He just kept staring at you as you walked. You were giggling to yourself, and as you walked you didn't notice that he wasn't by your side.

"I should ask you the same thing too sweetheart." He said, appearing in front of you. You look at him, and he was flapping his wings slightly so he could be taller.

"Hey that's cheating! You can't do that." You say, and stop to look at him which made laugh. He kept on flying as he looked down at you. "Just accept that I'm taller than you."

"NUH UUUUH!" He said, shaking his finger in front of you. Making you turn red. You look away and crossed your arms over your chest. You were puffing up your cheeks making him laugh even more.

"Aw baby! Don't be like that!" He said, as he leaned in close and placed a kiss on your forehead. And with that he stopped flying and placed his feet on the floor.

You gave him the side eye and pout. "I'm taller than you." You whine out making him sigh in defeat. "Fine you are."

Making you giggle and hugging him. "Yay!"

[solarisfortuneia]

hi i'm missing kaeya so bad right now so please have this <3 (this is one of my favorite works from my old blog hehe) warnings: nondescript mentions of nightmares.

your skin is littered with goosebumps, the chill of winter nips at your nose and you cling to him in hopes of absorbing the heat he gives off as he points out various sights and sounds of the celebration taking place. the lights of the city glow beside him, people are talking, laughing, having fun, but your focus is on him. it's unfair, you think. he's got a cryo vision, why is he so warm right now? he's comfortable, cozy, and rather cuddly-looking. 

it's not long before he notices you practically glued to his side. "my, someone's rather attached, aren't they?"  he glances sideways at you holding on tightly to his bicep, his signature sly smile on his face. 

you make a face at him. "it's cold and your fur thingy is warm."

"oh? and here i thought you were just affectionate." he clicks his tongue softly. "shame, really. i was going to suggest that i hold you properly, but it seems my coat would be enough, wouldn't it?"

"wait, no—that's not what i want." you mutter, almost embarrassed. you know he wants you to verbalize it, and you want him to hug you, but you hate giving him the satisfaction.

"what's that, sweetheart? i didn't quite catch it," his visible eye glitters with silent mirth.

you sigh, giving in. "hold me, dammit." 

"ah, are you sure? because a minute ago—oof!" he's cut off by you tugging his coat sharply to bring him closer to you. you lock your arms around him tightly, but you know that with his strength, he can get out whenever he wishes.

"you talk too much, kaeya." you grumble into the fluff on his shoulder, burying your face in its warmth. he laughs quietly and reciprocates, hugging you back just as tight. he kisses the crown of your head softly, and the two of you stay there for far too long, simply savoring the other's presence.

it's late in the evening. the sun has set barely an hour prior, and the barest hint of orange still lingers near the horizon. the fire crackles merrily in the background, he's at home unwinding. he sips on hot tea for a change, a book in his hand. he appears relaxed, peaceful. 

until you enter, and simply, just. plop yourself next to him and lay your head on his shoulder. "hey," you greet him quietly. he's used to you flopping next to him like a sack of potatoes after a long, weary day, so he's unfazed.

"hey, you." he sets the book and his drink aside and turns his head to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. he takes in the bags around your eyes and the drained look that accompanies them. his uncovered eye follows your hand as you move to grasp one of his, interlocking your fingers. "missed me?" he asks, playfully, even though he already knows the answer.

"mhm." you adjust yourself so you're almost half on him. slowly, carefully, he separates your intertwined hands so that both of his are free to find their way to your shoulders, guiding you till you're fully sitting on his lap. "how was your day?" you ask, rubbing your eyes.

he chooses not to comment on how that habit is bad for you. instead, he opts to answer your question with a "oh, you know. just another boring day." his palms come to cradle your face. "and what have you been up to today?" he asks as he bumps your nose with his.

"too much. i'm tired," your eyes close as you melt into his touch. his fingers glide over every bit of skin on your face, and his lips follow with a tender trail of kisses.

"oh, my poor baby," he murmurs sympathetically. "well, at least it's over now, isn't it?"

"thank heavens," you agree, moving to lean your head on his shoulder once more. 

he senses you attempting to fight your exhaustion in favor of staying awake to spend time with him. he leans his head over yours to prevent you from lifting it up. "go on, it's alright. take a nap." one of his hands finds its way into your hair as he scratches your scalp lightly with his nails in soothing motions. the other massages the shoulder he knows hurts much more than the other, kneading with a firm yet gentle pressure.

soon, he notices your breathing slow down and your movements still, and he knows you're starting your journey to the land of sleep. 

"rest well, dear," he smiles to himself, cradling the back of your head. "sweet dreams."

sunlight streams lazily through the window blinds, illuminating only a few sections of your bedsheets. somewhere beyond, he can hear the world outside slowly gearing up for the day. he's sleepy, and wants nothing more than to while away the day in bed. but alas, he has work to do. but he could dawdle in bed for, say, a half an hour longer with you, couldn't he?

he takes his time admiring the way you're tangled in the bedsheets, the way you grip his hand even in sleep, the way the scene in front of him is filled to the brim with intimacy and he feels a silent joy take a hold of his heart. a ringing noise cuts through the peace in the air, and he feels you start to shift awake, ready to get up for the day. 

he switches off the alarm without looking. "just five more minutes," he whispers into your ear. "please?" 

"we were late by an hour the last time you said five more minutes," you sleepily whisper back.

"i know, but are you really willing to leave such a cozy bed? one with me in it?" he drags the covers around over your head, making a sort of cocoon where only your face is peeking out. "please?" he asks again. "i promise, just five minutes. or maybe ten, but no more than that." he uses the tone of voice he knows you have a hard time resisting.

he knows he's got you when you go, "but i—" and are interrupted by a yawn. "okay," you finally acquiesce.  

"thank you, my love." his long eyelashes tickle your cheek as he kisses your jaw. and true to his word, he sits up and pats your arm nearly ten minutes later. this time, you're the one who groans. "five more minutes,"

"the last time you said five more minutes, we were late." he echoes your words from earlier, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"oh, hush you." your hands are outstretched, your fingers bending to make grabby motions at him.

instead of listening to your wordless demand, he holds them in his. "i'm serious this time, my dear. can't have the cavalry captain be an hour late again, it'll set a bad example."

"kaeya, you and i both know you have no cavalry to captain."

"touché." he lies back down, snuggling into your chest. "alright, five more minutes." he smiles smugly where you cannot see it, like a self satisfied cat, glad his ruse worked. don't you worry though, he won't allow the 'last time' to repeat itself. he'll make sure you're both out the door only twenty minutes late this time.

his chest is heaving, heart beating fast; his brow is damp with sweat, and he's scared. terrified. visions, memories, fears, all run through his mind erratically, with no rhyme or reason. the threads of his feelings jumble themselves into a tangled ball, and it's all he can do to not give in to the panic building in his chest.

he presses his lips together to contain any sounds he might make, for the last thing he wants to do is wake you.

too late though. you're already stirring. "kae, are you okay?"

'i'm fine, go back to sleep,' is what he wants to say, but all that comes through is halfway between a sob and a breath. the façade he so desperately tries to keep together shatters the minute he hears your concern for him.

your eyes fly open, and you immediately turn to face him. "kaeya, kaeya, what happened?" you take in his appearance quickly. "another nightmare? i'm so sorry." your hands hover over his, silently asking permission to touch him.

"do you want me to turn on the lights? or get you some water?" you ask softly. he shakes his head, being away from you is the last thing he wants. instead, he reaches for you and you oblige almost instantaneously, gathering him into your embrace. 

"stay." the visible effort even one word takes does not go unnoticed by you, and so, you try to pull him even closer than he is right now.

there's an unspoken understanding between the two of you to not bring up the bad dream for the moment— you know he'll talk about it when he's ready. instead, you divert all your energy into reassuring him of your presence while he calms down.

he hears you hum a few notes of a song he recognizes. the familiarity of it and your touch would work together in tandem to slowly soothe him. before he can manage to open his mouth to speak something, anything, cold runs down his spine and he starts to shiver even under a layer of blankets. "it's okay, you're here with me now," you murmur words of encouragement as you try to warm his hands.

to the rest of the world, he's unreadable. hazy, shifty, like a mirage. but to you, you know he's made of glass, just as transparent, and just as fragile. you hold him as such, like he's someone to be treasured, someone to be protected, someone to be loved. he finds solace in your touch, and he's beyond grateful that you're here with him.

and later on, when he knows you've fallen asleep, he breathes an almost imperceptible 'thank you' against the skin of your neck.

"thank you for being here."

[clangenrising]

Month 14 - Newleaf

Lake’s paws ached. Her stomach growled and her head pounded dully behind her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt full. Still, she walked. 

Ever since her mother had disappeared, she’d been wandering. A few cats had shared a bite with her but they didn’t have much to share in the first place. Most of them were too busy training to fight and they didn’t want her around, especially not the special cats - Exalted, she remembered hazily. She’d tried following other kits home but every time she was politely sent away.

Two days ago, she’d seen a couple cats bringing back a pair of juicy looking birds and while they hadn’t shared with her, they had told her that there was plenty of prey over the far road if she could catch it, laughing between themselves. She figured that was as good an idea as any, so she’d headed out for the wild frontier! 

It was farther away than she’d thought it would be, or maybe it was just easier to get lost without roads to follow. She walked and walked and then stopped to sleep then walked some more. She was starting to wonder if there even was anything out here at all. Was she just missing it? 

The sound of running water grabbed her attention and she licked her chapped lips eagerly at the thought. The kit picked up her heavy paws and bounded towards the noise. Coming out of the grass, she suddenly found herself on the edge of a stream of cool, fresh water - fresher than she’d ever seen before at least. 

“Wowzers!” she declared because that seemed fitting. She waded into the stream and crouched down, gulping greedily until her stomach hurt. She thought about falling over and sleeping in the stream but worried she might drown. Instead, she decided to follow the water like it was a road and see where that took her. At the very least it would be fun to splash around. 

The sky was getting dark again but Lake didn’t mind. She tromped noisily against the current of the stream, humming a song as each note came to her mind. The chill of the water kept her awake, which was nice. She wondered if she would see a fish. They lived in water, right? She hoped so. She was starving and the water she drank wasn’t helping. It honestly made her feel grosser. 

Eventually the stream came upon a small hill but, instead of curving or trickling down the slope, it cut through the earth in a big metal tube. “That’s interesting,” Lake thought out loud. It was like a gutter drain but huge, big enough for a cat to walk through! She bounded up to the edge of it and sucked in a huge breath.

“Hellooooo!” she bellowed, giggling at the way it echoed off the tunnel walls. She splashed her paws in the water and listened to the magnified sound with excitement. “Blaaaaaaah! Bluh, bluh, bluh!” She snorted with laughter. This was the best fun she’d had in weeks!

“Hello?” A voice that wasn’t her own echoed back to her. She gasped. Was that possible?

“Hello?” she called back. It was hard to tell in the dark but at the end of the tunnel, she swore she saw something moving. Then a glint of eyes blinked at her, barely reflecting the moonlight in her direction.

“Wowzers!” she cried, “I didn’t think I’d see anybody! Are you hunting too?”

“Yeah,” the voice said hesitantly. “How old are you?” It sounded like a boy but there were other quieter voices outside the tunnel and they were talking very serious-like. 

“I’m three whole months!” Lake said. The eyes pulled away from the tunnel as the cat whispered with his friends. Lake decided she wanted to say hi up close and personal. She started towards the cat, sloshing through the stream up to her belly. Once the tunnel was all around her, the sound of her paw steps started to hurt her ears and she hurried towards the other end to get away from it. 

She burst out of the other end and thumped into a pair of bony legs, falling back onto her rump with an “oof!” The cat she had run into reached out a paw to steady her. He smelled like grass and dust and his breath smelled like prey blood. It made Lake’s mouth water. 

“Easy, there, kid,” the cat said. It was now that Lake looked up and got her first sight of him. 

“You’re funny looking, mister!” she said. He was a skinny white and blue tabby with big ears, like a little dog, and a very pointy face. 

“I could say the same about you,” he said. 

She laughed. “Am I funny looking?”

“The poor thing looks half starved,” whispered one of the other cats, an equally funny looking girl with brown points on her face and feet. 

“Are you out here all alone?” asked the third cat, a fluffy brown tabby boy who was much more normal looking. 

“Yessir!” said Lake. “I heard there was food here. Do you guys know where the far road is?” The cats all looked at each other for a beat. 

Then the first one spoke up, “Uh, no, but we do know where some food is.”

“Really?!” Lake grinned. “Can I have some?!” Her mouth was starting to fill with saliva. She slurped some of it down to avoid drooling.

“Yeah,” nodded the normal boy. “I’ll even carry you if you want.” 

“Nuh, uh,” Lake shook her head. “I’m a big girl now.” 

“You sure are,” said the funny looking boy. “Barleypaw, will you go grab one of the mice or something?”

“Yeah,” nodded the funny looking girl. She bounded off into the grass and Lake started after her but the funny looking boy put out a paw to stop her. 

“She’s gonna be right back with the food,” he said. “You just sit.” 

“Oh, okay,” shrugged Lake. “My name’s Lake. What’s your names?”

“I’m Floodpaw,” said the funny looking boy. 

“Sparrowpaw,” said the normal looking boy.

“And our sister is Barleypaw,” said Floodpaw. 

“Hey!” Lake gasped. “Did you know all your names rhyme?” Sparrowpaw laughed a little. Floodpaw raised one brow. 

“Yeah…” he said. “Where’s your mom, kid?”

Lake frowned. “Oh, um… I don't know.” 

“Oh,” said Floodpaw.

“That’s alright,” said Sparrowpaw. “Maybe you can come home with us, then.” 

“Yeah?” she brightened. Was she finally gonna be able to find a new place to sleep and a new person to help her get food? 

“Yeah,” said Floodpaw. “Once you’ve eaten we can go there.” 

“I can’t wait!” cried Lake. “You guys are the best!” The brothers exchanged glances again. Lake wasn’t sure what it meant but she saw the sister coming back over the hill and smelled the delicious smell of meat and all other thoughts fled her brain. She scarfed the whole thing down as quickly as she could. She ate it so fast she forgot to check what kind of animal it was. By the time she finished, she realized she felt very sick to her stomach.

“Oh…” she said. “I think I ate too fast…”

“That’s alright,” said Sparrowpaw, “Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you?”

She nodded, cheeks full of breath as she tried to stifle her nausea. 

“Alright, come on then,” Floodpaw said, stretching. “Why don’t we go back to camp? I bet a nice walk will help you feel better.” 

“Okay,” mumbled Lake. She didn’t feel like walking. She felt like falling over and never moving again. She didn’t like saying no to people, though, so she forced herself to take a few steps. 

Floodpaw tilted his funny looking head and said, “I dunno, maybe we should just sit for a while.” Lake sighed a little in relief. “Yeah, why don’t you guys go gather the prey and tell somebody about Lake and I’ll chill here with the kid until she feels like walking.”

“Are you sure?” asked Barleypaw. “We’re awfully close to the border.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said, flopping down in the grass. “Worst comes to worse, I'll grab the kid and go.” 

“Alright…” said Sparrowpaw, looking unconvinced. He and Barleypaw started off into the grass, looking back over their shoulders and whispering to each other. Lake let out a big sigh and eased herself into the grass next to Floodpaw.

“Thanks,” she said, closing her eyes. “I don’t feel very good.” She swallowed, her sides heaving under the distress of her sick tummy. 

“No problem,” smiled Floodpaw. “Barleypaw and Sparrowpaw are always like ‘go, go, go, let’s follow the rules’ or whatever but I get just wanting to lie down.” 

“Yeah,” Lake smiled wide and wiggled into a more comfortable position. “I like laying down!” 

“Me too,” laughed Floodpaw, dropping his head onto the ground too. “So, what are you doing out here, Lake?” 

“Looking for food!” Lake purred. Her stomach gurgled loudly and she giggled a bit. “Thanks for sharing it with me.” 

“Yeah, no problem,” said Floodpaw, one ear flicking away the gnats buzzing by. “But why are you looking for food all the way out here? You’re from the city aren’t you?” 

“Oh, yeah, I am,” Lake nodded, peeking her eyes open at him. “Some cats told me there was food out here. I was really hungry. Plus it sounded fun to try.”

“Don’t other cats bring you food?” he asked, brows furrowed. 

“Nah,” she sighed. “Not since Mother went missing.”

The crease in his funny, pointy face deepened. “Still, there wasn’t anybody else who helped you out?” 

“Um…” Lake frowned too. “No. I’m sorry.” Was she answering wrong? Why was he upset?

“Oh, no, hey,” he said quickly, “It’s okay, I’m not mad, I’m just-” His skinny little tail twitched. “I just think it’s not cool that no one looked out for you.” 

“They’re busy I guess,” Lake shrugged. They were learning to fight or taking care of their own kits. She didn’t blame any of them for not having time for her. 

“Well, here we take care of kittens,” Floodpaw said firmly, “no matter who they are.” Lake smiled and hid her nose in her paws shyly. Floodpaw laughed and stretched his big, long legs out in opposite directions. “Take a little nap, kid. I’ll keep watch.” 

“Okay,” she said and yawned. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until he said something but now, with her belly full, she was eager to get some shut eye. Feeling very round and sluggish, she closed her eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep. 

~~~

When Lake woke up it was very, very dark. She yawned and stretched and looked around, realizing that she was in a totally new place. She stiffened in fright. Where was she? The not knowing was scarier than any answer she could come up with. 

She was in a large den made of dirt, it seemed, in a nest of soft green moss and feathers. It smelled faintly of other cats, cats she didn’t know. 

Carefully, she got to her paws and crept towards the scent of night air, poking her head out to see a small grassy dip with a few other burrows tucked under big, grey stones. Three cats were sitting on top of a big, flat stone and talking softly. They didn’t seem dangerous so Lake ventured a bit further out to look around in wonder. 

“Wowzers,” she breathed. Everything here smelled so fresh and green. She’d never experienced anything like it. 

One of the cats, a dark blue bengal girl, perked up at the sound and looked her way. “Oh, hey! She’s awake!” 

“Shh,” hushed a brown spotted tabby girl nervously. 

“Right, sorry,” said the first girl, lowering her volume a bit. “Hey, girlie, how you feelin’?” 

Lake realized she was supposed to answer and said, “I’m good. How did I get here?” 

“They carried you in while you were sleeping,” said the third cat, a paler spotted tabby boy. Lake frowned. She had wanted to walk.

“I bet you’re pretty confused,” said the first girl. “Why don’t you come up here and sit with us? We can answer any questions you have.”

“Um, I’m okay,” said Lake. “Where’s the guy with the funny ears?”

“Huh?” asked the first girl.

The boy brightened in realization. “Oh, you mean Floodpaw.” 

“Yeah!” Lake bounced. That was his name!

“He’s sleeping over there,” he said, pointing to one of the holes in the ground. 

“Okay, thanks!” said Lake. She started towards the hole to go see him. The second girl breathed in sharply through her teeth and the first girl laughed. 

The boy started to say, “Oh, uh, I don’t know if-” but the first girl interrupted him. 

“Shh, let her be. It’ll be funny.” 

Lake didn’t know what they were talking about but she didn’t let it bother her. She made her way into the den. Five cats were sleeping in their nests; two smaller ones were curled up together and Floodpaw and the other cats she had met were sleeping near each other but not so close that they were touching. Lake padded right up to Floodpaw and settled down against his side. He opened his eyes and lifted his head groggily, blinking at her a few times before he managed to speak.

“Hey, kid, what are you doing in here?” he mumbled hoarsely.

“Looking for you,” she whispered. “Why did you carry me? I wanted to walk.” 

“Oh,” he said with a small groan. He swiped his tongue over his whiskers and rubbed an eye with his paw. “It was getting really late and I didn’t want to wake you. Sorry, kid.” 

“Mmm, it’s okay,” she decided, purring. She wiggled down into his nest and closed her eyes again. 

“Oh, uh…” he hesitated for a moment before eventually wrapping his tail around her and laying his head back down to sleep. Lake purred even harder. She’d missed sleeping next to somebody like this. 

She hoped that wherever her mother was, she had found someone new to sleep beside too.

UPDATES: - While on patrol with Barleypaw and Sparrowpaw, Floodpaw finds an abandoned kit named Lake and takes her back to camp.

[comicaurora]

Hi! I'm a big fan of your work. Thanks for taking the time to read this.

 I'm an artist who's been working on a story with a close writer friend of mine since the pandemic. Together we've outlined a webcomic that we're both very excited and passionate about, and it's been a great experience. Late last year we started actually making the comic itself, and a little less than a year later we're 37 pages in. 

I wanted to ask you how you're able to somehow push out three high-quality pages every week? I work full time, and most days I'm too drained when I get home to immediately start working on the comic. Plus all the other stuff I have to take care of to be a functional adult. I'm not even that slow of an artist, but it just doesn't feel like there's enough hours in the day. At my current rate, I get about one page done per week. I'm 24 now, I don't want to be in my 50s still working on this story. Do you have any advice for increasing your output as an artist without completely overwhelming yourself?

Sorry for the wordy question. There's a reason I'm the artist and not the writer.

Oof, that's a tough one!

I mean, to start with, a fundamental difference in our schedules is I don't work full time. Everything I do for a living is very self-scheduled, and I can work far in advance to meet the deadlines I set and take entire days or even weeks off when I need them. Back when I was in college, dealing with outside schedule requirements, I definitely wouldn't have been able to keep up everything I do now.

That said, there are still methods to streamline and speed up the artistic process. I don't know the details of your methods, but I'd recommend sketching and storyboarding larger numbers of pages at a time and finalizing them at a more leisurely pace, rather than taking one page of comic at a time from a total blank to a finalized, polished version. The storyboard can be very basic; many of mine are little more than color-coded scribbles showing the characters and text boxes showing their dialogue. It's just enough to be readable to me so I can go in and edit it for pacing and timing, but it looks like absolute chickenscratch to anyone else. On the production side, that makes it much more feasible for me to work on multiple pages at a time, since I don't need to finish polishing one page before I can start boarding another.

This method can be expanded into a bit of a factory production line, allowing for a two-pronged approach of progress - one for finalizing older pages, the other farther along for storyboarding new ones. And once you have multiple pages done at a time, you can schedule them well in advance, which takes a lot of deadline pressure off and can make it less mentally daunting to work on. This also diversifies the space of things you can work on, depending on your headspace and energy levels - which is a useful option to have when you're wiped from outside responsibilities.

[georgie-weasley]

Sweet Nothing H.P. x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of death and the wizarding war, nightmares, darker thoughts, survivors guilt, Harry is really going through it

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing: Harry Potter x gender neutral reader (no use of pronouns or gendered language)

Summary: Harry has a hard time escaping the darkness brought by the war but he has you and all you ever wanted from him was sweet nothing

A/N: Shout out to Taylor Swift

Masterlist

Harry’s feet pounded against the stone floor of the castle, ducking out of the way from spells being shot at him. Where were you? The battle was raging and you were nowhere to be found. As he ran, Harry fired spells over his shoulder hoping they hit their mark. He didn’t bother looking where he was firing spells, assuming that if they were aiming for him, he should try and hit them back.

He turned into a hallway, desperately searching for any sign of you. Finally there at the end of the hallway, he spotted you. His lungs burned from running and his legs felt like jelly but none of that mattered now. He could see you. He could grab you and keep you safe. Only, he couldn’t. You were surrounded by death eaters, fighting them off as best as you could when a flash of green light shot out from one of their wands, hitting you right in the chest. Harry watched the life drain from your eyes, your face lose color, and your body drop to the floor.

He screamed, racing toward you in a desperate attempt to save you but the damage was done. You were gone.

Harry sat up quickly, his chest tight as he tried to catch his breath. He looked around the blurry room, grabbing his glasses as he tried to find you. The spot on the bed next to him was empty and dread filled his chest. The small alarm clock next to the bed read 5:13; it was much too early for you to be up. He sprang out of bed, grabbing his wand as he crept out of your shared bedroom and into the hallway. Faintly, he could hear something moving around in the kitchen and he gripped his wand tighter. He rounded the corner, wand in front of him and ready to attack when you turned around. With a small scream, you dropped the mixing bowl in your hand and it hit the floor, shattering into a million pieces.

“Harry!” You whispered, clutching your chest. “You just about scared the life out of— oof.” You were cut off as the green eyed boy pulled you into his arms, holding you close to his chest as he buried his face in your neck. As your heart rate slowed, you moved your hands, placing one on his back and one in his hair. “Another nightmare?” At your question, all Harry could do was nod and hold you closer.

This had not been the first time Harry woke up and had a nightmare or thought you had been taken away from him. Every time he closed his eyes, memories of the war flashed in his mind and the fear of losing you crept in. Carefully, you backed away just enough so you could see his face. “Want to rest on the couch for a while?” He again nodded and the two of you made your way to the couch in your small living room. Harry laid down first before he immediately pulled you on top of him, his arms tight around your waist.

You both laid on the couch in silence for a long time. With your head on Harry’s chest, you listened to his heartbeat begin to steadily thump in his chest. You and Harry hadn’t begun dating until the middle of what would have been your seventh year. Being one of his best friends, you joined Ron, Hermione, and him on their journey to find horcruxes. It was not easy and some days you debated leaving. You hadn't become friends with the trio until fourth year and sometimes, it felt like they kept you at arms length. Sure they trusted you and you helped them but there were times they would stop talking as soon as you came into the tent or kept secrets from you. They treated you like some sort of liability despite you risking just as much as they were.

Once Ron left, things were worse but better in a way. Harry and Hermione were crushed and it was hard for them to go about their day without thinking of Ron. You kept it together and helped them make as much progress as possible during those hard days. One night when Harry and Ron came back soaking wet, things changed. Filled with relief at the sight of Harry still alive and breathing, you threw yourself at him and kissed him.

Now a little over three years after the war, you and Harry had a small home in a little muggle town. Harry felt safer knowing he could come and go from the Wizarding World as he pleased. Of course you both tried to keep the magic use to a minimum here in this town but that could be overlooked. He loved the magical world and it was the first place he ever felt like he belonged, but it had its problems too. It was nice to walk around outside and not be stopped by people thanking him for his service or telling him he was a hero. Or worse, people stopped him and told him he didn’t do enough or save enough people.

Some people thought Harry was a hero, which he was, but some people felt he hadn’t done nearly enough. If he would have found the horcruxes sooner, more people would have survived. If he had given himself over to Voldemort sooner, families would still be whole. If he had studied more in school he would have been better prepared and would have defeated Voldemort sooner. If he had died in the first place, maybe everyone would still be here. There was nothing someone could say that Harry hadn’t already thought before. 

His breathing sped up as those thoughts began to swarm his mind. Feeling his chest rising and falling much faster than a moment ago, you propped yourself up and grabbed his face in your hands, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Hey, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You searched his face, heart breaking as you looked at his stunning green eyes filled with tears.

“I didn’t do enough. I’m not doing enough.” Harry took a deep breath. “I could have done more, saved more.”

You moved off of him and pulled him up, tugging his head to your chest with his legs thrown over your lap. “Harry, you did everything you could. You worked so hard to save everyone you could.”

“There could have been more. If only I had–”

“If only you knew more. If only Dumbledore knew more. If only Dumbledore told you more. If only I did more. You've talked about them all before. Harry, you can think about all of the ‘ifs’ you want but we can’t go back and change anything. I know you want to and I want to as well but we can’t.” You raked your hands through his hair, kissing the top of his head. “I know you think differently but you did everything you could. I promise.” This was not going to be the last time this was brought up. You knew that. It was safe to assume that for the rest of his life he was going to feel guilty over the things he did or didn’t do. Who could blame him? He watched friends, classmates, and family die all because he didn’t die when he was a baby. The guilt that he felt was not something you would ever wish upon anyone.

Harry didn’t speak for a while and you hoped he had fallen asleep. Merlin knew he needed the rest. “Should I do more now?”

“Now?” You sighed and shook your head. “What do you mean now?”

“I’ve been avoiding the Wizarding World. Once Hogwarts had been rebuilt and everything, I ran away. People were expecting me to fix everything or be the new minister or headmaster or something and I’m just gone. I’m being selfish”

“Look at me, please.” Harry tilted his head up to look at you. “There is nothing wrong with taking time for yourself. You were a child thrown into a war. You have done more for the Wizarding World and the Muggle World than pretty much anyone else. Be selfish. You can take time for yourself and do what you want. It doesn’t matter what anyone else wants from you.”

“What about you? What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing at all Harry. I just want whatever you want.” It was the truth. Harry had fame and money and brawn and brains, even if he didn’t agree. There were a lot of women that would want any part of that or more from him. You? All you wanted was him in whatever way he wanted to give himself to you. The nightmares were hard and both of you had pretty messed up sleeping schedules but that didn’t matter. Whatever came with Harry, you were going to take it. “What do you want?”

“Well,” Harry started, a small smile finally gracing his face, “I would like to know what you were doing out of bed so early this morning.”

You laughed, looking back in the kitchen to see the broken bowl still on the floor. “I was hoping to surprise you with some breakfast. Pancakes if you must know.”

Harry hummed and snuggled his face into your chest. “I think now I would like to sleep some more and then in a few hours you can keep making pancakes?” He circled his arms around your waist, effectively keeping you trapped on the couch with him. You knew the glass would need to be cleaned up and the pancake batter was definitely going to take some elbow grease or magic to clean up but who were you to deny him?

“That sounds wonderful.” Your one hand continued to comb through his hair as the other rubbed circles on his back. Before long, soft snores were coming out of his mouth. Looking down at him, your heart warmed and your stomach filled with butterflies as you saw the smile still on his face. He was finally peaceful and resting, like he deserved. “Happy birthday Harry.” You whispered and kissed his forehead before resting your head on the couch, closing your eyes.

[taylortots-world]

Ready For Love

Summary: Reader and Dean are watching over a nearby neighborhood. Just the two of you. What could possibly happen?

Warnings: (18+)(minors dni!) lil' sexy time in baby ;), smut

Note: Sorry- this seems long?? I'm just playing around with different perspectives atm, so enjoy this first person piece. Like or reblog if you enjoy :)

Sam had sent Dean and I away to stake out a specific neighborhood that had a series of odd murderers and disappearances. While we were at this spot, Sam was staking out the neighborhood a block over. It was freezing in the Impala. The leather seats didn’t help. In the winter, the seats were like giant ice blocks. In the summer, it was like putting your bare ass on a hot grill. I rested my head against the window, watching as my breath slightly fogged the window.

“And we are officially- out of coffee.” Dean said, rattling the empty thermos.

I looked over at him, groaning. “I told you to save me a sip.”

He shrugged, tossing the empty thermos into the backseat. “Whiskey will have to do. It’ll keep us plenty warm.” He smirked at me as he dug around in his inner pocket.

“Good point.” I sat up and pulled my bag right between my legs, unzipping it. I was praying that I had been smart enough to pack a bottle of whiskey. I looked up, slightly squinting as I continued to feel around my bag. Notebook, pens, tampons, everything but whiskey. I was starting to lose hope, then I felt the sleek mickey that had been buried at the very bottom of my bag.

“A-ha.” I sang, snatching up the bottle, smiling at Dean as I pulled it out.

“Great minds thing alike.” He nodded towards me, holding up his flask. I swear- he never left the house without that thing. I can always count on him for a little pick me up during the day, or any hour real.  I smiled widely, unscrewing the top before taking a long sip. The liquid burning my throat on the way down- in the best way possible. I slightly inhaled through my teeth.

“Good shit.” I nodded, holding the mickey out for Dean. His fingers gently brushed against mine as he took the bottle. My heart slightly fluttered- it shouldn’t have. Pull yourself together, Y/N.

***

Both the bottle and flask were drained, and the both of us were definitely feeling our buzz. My face felt hot and flushed due to the alcohol- and Dean of course. He always knew what to say and when to say it. I can see how he gets so many chicks.

“Yes- Sam peed himself. He still won’t admit it till this day.” We were both practically in hysterics. I held my stomach as I laughed.

“You’re going to kill me Winchester.” My laughter died down as I wiped a tear away with my knuckle.

“Oh I couldn’t kill you, sweetheart .” He said as his face appeared beside mine. I couldn’t help but drink him up. His freckled skin, piercing green eyes, the way his lips were slightly parted.

Silence. I was practically star struck. Was he hinting at something? Before I knew it, I was leaning in. Giving in, I gently gripped his face as I kissed him. He immediately kissed me back, no hesitation.

Our gentle kisses quickly turned into hot, rough kisses. I ran my hands down his broad arms, I needed more. He nipped at my bottom lip, causing me to hum into his mouth. He pulled away, his forehead against mine. He smelt of whiskey and his incredible natural musk.

“Backseat?” He asked, his eyes never leaving mine. My eyes flicked to his lips as I quickly nodded.

Dean pulled away and quickly swung the drivers door open, slamming it behind him. I wasted no time and decided to crawl over the front seat, hitting the backseat with an ‘oof’. Dean opened the door, smirking down at me as he shrugged his jacket off. I quickly pushed the discarded thermos from earlier off the seat, along with my own jacket. I fully laid back on the seat, my chest slightly heaving as I watched him. He tossed his jacket into the front seat and slowly covered my body with his. I gripped the collar of his henley, tugging his lips to mine. He started kissing a trail down my jawline to my neck and collarbone. My weak spot. I’ve dreamt of how his lips would feel against mine. My neck, legs. How his head would look between my legs.

“Your tense,” He said against my neck, peppering lighter kisses “Let me help you relax.” He whispered, his stubble tickling my neck.

I nodded, watching as his hands slid up my sides, taking my shirt with it.

“This okay?” He looked up at me, stopping right before my breasts.

“Yes- please.” I was practically begging. I was putty in his hands already.

I raised my arms, allowing him to slide my top up. My bra was a deep mauve. I would’ve worn a matching set if I knew this was going to happen.

I watched as an even bigger smirk grew on Dean’s face. He gently cupped my breasts, kneading them. Arousal was pooling more than ever. I could feel my panties as they began to dampen. I quickly leaned up, kissing him deeply. As our lips moved in sync , my hands disappeared behind my back to fumble around with the bra hooks. Once the hooks were undone, I watched his face closely as I slid the bra off, allowing it to fall to the floor.

“Oh darlin’..” He said as he took in the sight of my bare tits. He ducked his head behind my ear, kissing down my neck and collarbone once again. Once he got to my tits, he kissed, licked, and sucked as much as he could. His tongue found my right nipple, gently flicking it.

“Dean-” I sighed out, my eyes shut as pleasure overtook me.

“Use your words babe, tell me what you want.” He said between kisses, moving to give my other nipple some attention.

“I want you- I need you to fuck me.” I usually wasn’t this upfront- but Dean flipped a switch within me. I don’t know what it is, but I just need him more than ever right now.

He softly laughed against my skin. “Lay back, let me take care of you.”

His lips worked down my torso, right until the waistband of my pants. He kissed across the area right about my waistband, causing me to squirm underneath him.

“I know princess, I know. I’m gettin’ to it.” He looked up at me through his thick lashes. He hooked his fingers in the sides of the band, gently tugging them down. He kissed down my leg until the pants were at my ankles. I gently kicked them off, making sure not to hit him.

“These-” He ran his fingers along the top of my panties “Are cute, but they have to go.”

I quickly lifted my ass off the seat and slid the panties down to my midthigh, making it easier for Dean to remove them. My pussy was now on display for him. I was slightly embarrassed- I hadn’t shaven that weak. A gentle stubble covered me.

“Sorry- I haven’t shaven yet. Maybe you shouldn’t-” Before I could get another word out, my panties were off and his face was buried between my legs.

I gasped, my hand immediately found his head. My fingers gently gripping his hair as his mouth worked. His lips were wrapped around my clit, occasionally flicking his tongue. His hands slid to my hips, in an attempt to keep me still. I continued to wiggle under his touch. He pulled away, running his fingers through my folds. My breath caught in my throat as he brought his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean.

“So delicious-” He said before sliding two fingers in.

I moaned and arched off the seat. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

His fingers moved at a moderate pace. I gave him a few teasing squeezes, causing him to smirk.

“Dean- I need more.” I whined, causing him to curl his fingers.

After my plea, his fingers moved quicker. His curled fingers hitting all the right places. I felt the coil heating in my stomach already.

“Please don’t stop-” I begged, throwing my head back against the inner console of the car door.

“Mm, you gonna’ come for me?” He whispered, continuing exactly what he was doing. I could come just from hearing his voice alone.

I quickly nodded as my breathing began to pick up, my core heating more and more.

“Fuck- I’m gonna come.” I whispered. I was practically white knuckling his hair, making sure not to tug too hard. Then it happened. I saw stars. My orgasm snapped like an elastic band, my whole body trembling. I kept my eyes shut and moaned as pleasure washed over me in waves.

“Thatta’ girl. You alive up there?” He slowly crawled up my body, hands on either side of me as he hovered above me. I slowly opened my eyes and was face to face with him. I was still recovering from my high. No guy had ever made me come. Especially not like that.

“I’m alive.” I said, slightly giggling. “You got a condom?” I asked as I gently traced his features with my fingertips.

“Yeah, hang on.” He rose to his knees, his bulge begging to be set free.

He snatched up his jacket off of the floor, searching all his pockets. I sat up, kissing his chest and abs, toying with his belt at the same time.

He sighed as he looked down at me, watching me closely. Once his belt was undone, I quickly tugged his pants down. Dean sat down on the seat, lifting his butt to slide his jeans fully off. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his bulge. The shape- the size. I flipped around, seating myself beside him. I nibbled on my bottom lip as my left hand found it’s way up his thigh, to his crotch. I gently rubbed him over his boxers, feeling his cock twitch under my touch. He brushed my hair out of the way before attacking my neck with his mouth. Goosebumps coated my arms as he gently raked his teeth against my flesh. I had never been so enticed by someone before. I have never needed someone this badly.

“You’re killin’ me.” His voice was muffled against my neck, vibrating against my skin.

“Let me help you relax.” I purred, quoting him from earlier.

“Hey, that’s my line.” He pulled back, smirking at me.

I lowered my mouth to his shoulder, kissing and licking a trail down his arm to where I wanted him most. My stomach tightened as I gently tugged his boxers down, his cock springing free. I felt my jaw go slack, my mouth watering. Not wasting another minute I lowered my mouth, taking him inch by inch. I hummed around him as I began to bob my head.

“Fuck Y/N-” He moaned, tilting his head back against the seat.

His hand ran up my back, before planting it in my hair.

The corners of my mouth twitched upwards. The sounds he was making as I bobbed my head up and down were fueling my arousal even more.

“As good as this feels- I need to be inside you babe.” His voice laced with desperation. I swear he could read my thoughts. My pussy was clenching around nothing, begging to be filled.

“Lay back, make yourself comfortable.” Dean slid to the side of the backseat, giving me room to reposition myself.

I laid back, using his t-shirt as a pillow. I looked up, meeting his dark green stare, goosebumps coated my skin instantly. This man didn’t even have to touch me. He could simply look at me and I’d be a mess. He ripped the foil wrapper open with his teeth before rolling the condom onto himself.

“You ready baby?” He asked in a hushed town as he hovered over me, covering my body with his. I quickly nodded, placing a few soft kisses to his collarbone.

Our gazes never broke away from each other as he slowly slid into me. My jaw went slack once more as I felt him stretching my walls out perfectly with his cock.

“Fuck you’re so tight.” He said against my ear as he slowly started rocking into me. I couldn’t help but moan.

“Oh fuck Dean-” I moaned out. I dragged my nails down his back, earning a grunt from him. I continued to rake my nails across his back, making sure not to dig them too deep.

He lifted his head, kissing me deeply as his hips sped up. He slowly rose, his hips still thrusting and grinding into me. A mischievous smirk grew on his face as he placed his thumb on my clit, rubbing gentle circles.

My back arched up off of the seat, a loud gasp leaving my lips. If he kept this up, I wasn’t going to last much longer. I could tell he was nearing his own orgasm.

“Fuck I’m gonna come.” He groaned out, his brows furrowing in pleasure.

“Come for me, please.” I rasped as his thumb moved faster against my clit.

“Come with me baby.” His breathing became ragged before exploding inside of me. The condom catching the remains of his orgasm.

One more circle around my clit and I was a mess. My whole body, trembling. Nothing but inaudible curses and moans. Dean collapsed on top of me, both of still breathing hard from our highs.

“We’re definitely doing that again.” I said as I gently stroked his head, playing with his hair.

“We should make this a reoccurring thing.” Dean said, the side of his face resting against my tit.

[rom-e-o]

Bess and Connie coming to realize how much they apologize for insignificant things that are hardly infractions or things they have no reason to apologize over by calling each other out whenever they do it. Bess apologizes for one thing one day and Connie tells her it's not necessary. The next time Connie apologizes for the same thing and Bess points out when she did the same thing, Connie said it wasn't an issue and now Connie is apologizing for the same thing that's still not an issue. Slowly that conditioning comes to light.

Oof, that's a big, but inevitable, realization. They've been programmed by family/their 'love' interests to see themselves as inferior, and as a result, apologize for every tiny thing.

They never notice it, until they meet each other - another woman that does the EXACT same thing. Then, all of a sudden, I imagine it jumps out a little bit more.

Like, Bess drops a glass of water from the kitchen counter, and is like, "Ugh, that was dumb of me! Sorry. I'll clean this up, right away."

And Connie just glances up from her book in confusion as she sees Bess rush to mop up the mess.

And it works in reverse as well. Like, Connie forgets to take the trash out one morning, and the color just drains. "I-I'm so sorry! It won't happen again. I promise."

Of course, Bess is like, "Whoa, you're fine! No need to apologize. I'm not mad." After all, why would such a simple mistake make anyone angry?

Then it clicks mutually. They realize why the other is apologizing, even for the smallest little things. So, the sisters they are, they watch out for it from then on out and make sure to always catch the other.

So, next time Bess spills the ashes in the fireplace or Connie accidentally busts an ink pen (too much chewing on the end, missy), just as the other it about to apologize, the other swoops in.

Bess: Ugh, I'm sorry, I try to do something good, but I'm always such a-

Connie: Hey, now. You're the one doing the chore - a chore we all hate doing, haha. I should be thanking you doing it. ... Thank you, Bess. You don't have to apologize for anything like that anymore, you know. <3

OR

Connie: Ugh, I'm so sorry, I need to clean this up. Oh no, I hope it doesn't stain! If it does-

Bess: That's what the cleaning rags are for. It's fine, Connie. Trust me. This is nothing compared to some of the messes I've had to clean in L&D, and most of the people definitely weren't as nice as you were about it. So there's no need to apologize, yeah? <3

Slowly, over time, the apologies dwindle and dwindle for those insignificant things/mistakes.