#makes me do a happy jig

[morgan-tha-gorgan]

Logan can sing.

But he doesn't sing in front of anyone.

When he is by himself (driving a car or even in the shower) he starts to sing.

And bc he is around 200 years old, he sings from every time period. Every song he knows is a memory of a purely happy moment: An old lullaby sang to him by his mom or adopted dad. A jaunty little jig played on an out of tune fiddle that played when he had a first dance with someone in his youth. An upbeat jazz number that played in a nightclub the night before him and Victor shipped out to the European theater in WW2.

He knows a lot of songs. And each one a memory that he feels is worth revisiting when the mood strikes him.

The thing is, Althea hears everything. She keeps it to herself. She likes his voice, especially the way he sings the oldies she grew up with. She knows he would be embarrassed and never sing again if she gave even the slightest inkling of knowing. So, she just listens.

Laura hasn't ever heard him sing, but she notices that when they're in a car together he insists on letting certain songs play. He never sings or even hums. He just listens. But one day, while they were picking up Althea's medications and geoceries, Joan Jett and the Blackheart's "Bad Reputation" starts to play. And Laura, can't help it. She loves this song. And starts to sing to it. Logan looks over at her perplexed. "I didn't know you sing?" He says to her. "This song is about you, you know," she taunts back. He snorts. But then he starts bobbing his head to the beat. Laura notices and sings a little more enthusiastically, hoping he might join in his own way. He hums low, while turning up the volume so she can't hear him. Laura sings a little louder and even does a little air guitar. He just watches and smiles. Laura doing her one woman revival of Joan Jett and the Blackhearts.

They get back and Logan hands Althea her bag of meds. "Make sure Wade doesn't find this stash," he says. Laura unpacks some of the groceries then heads out for the night with some friends. Wade is out on a job, so it is just Althea and Logan. They sit on the couch, Logan flips through channels until they find something they both like. They more often then not gravitate towards the Turner Classic Movies channel, or some trash reality TV that catches their interest. This night, Logan lands on "Singing in the Rain," and he stops. It is the titular moment when Gene Kelley and Debbie Reynolds are kissing on the stoop, before he breaks out into the big musical number for which the movie is called.

Althea notices this immediately. "I never took you for a guy who liked musicals," Althea quips. She hears the remote creaks in Logan's hand. He is going to change the channel. But Althea is quick to stop him, "Nah, uh....I like this part. Don't change it."

Gene Kelley put his umbrella aside, starts to hum that catchy tune and the music swells...Althea noticed she could feel a slight thumping on the ground. It was Logan's foot, tapping to the beat. She also heard a very slight creak of the remote, still in Logan's hand. He was tapping his finger to the beat as well. Althea smiled to herself: this guy really is full of surprises.

They watch the whole movie. The entire time, Logan kept his hand on the remote but never made a move to change it. His finger and foot tapped to every song.

As the credits rolled, Logan began moving furniture to pull out the futon. Althea walked around to figure out where he was putting the furniture so she wouldn't trip over it in the morning.

"I saw that movie with my dad when I was probably 9 years old. It was the first movie I ever saw in a theater," Althea said.

"Me, too," Logan said. "First, time in a theater."

"I figured you'd be into westerns with how you act like Clint Eastwood up in here."

"Clint Eastwood was in a musical, too."

"What?"

"Something like...Wagon Paint? Can't really remember. We were watching it in the barracks in Vietnam when we were suddenly being rushed..." his voice trails off and the room tenses around him.

Althea didn't need eyes to see that Logan was having a traumatic flash back. She knew not to touch him. Instead, she quickly fiddled her hands to where she last heard the remote clank. When she finally grasped it and found the power button, she realizes she had no idea what movie was playing next. Hoping it wasn't a John Wayne war movie, she breathed a sigh of relief when she heard a song she vaguely recognized belonging to the musical "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers," an obscure one for sure. But hey, better than what was happening in Logan's head right now. Howard Keel was full on belting about how some girl was the girl for him, so Althea jabbed the volume button as loud as it would go, neighbors downstairs be damned.

Eventually, she heard Logan move. It sounded like he took a step, like he was turning towards her.

"Althea?" He sounded a little dazed and confused, but atleast he was here, and not lost in his thoughts. She didn't want to embarrass him.

"Sorry, Logan, I read in the TV guide that this movie was on next and I just had to see it."

"You read the what?"

"Just lay down and watch this movie with me for a bit."

And so Logan found his place on the futon, Althea on her sitting chair. And they just let the music and movie take them away for a bit.

"Thanks Al." Logan, said.

"Don't mention it."

When the movie ends, Althea turns off the TV and makes her way to her bedroom. As she dozes off, she hears, rather clearly, Logan singing. She can't make out what he is singing. But it sounds vaguely like Joan Jett and then morphs into Singing in the Rain.

[notreal2000]

Their little awkward dance makes me so happy you don't even understand-

Angel and Husks dancing styles are very opposite, Husk has like the gentleman old times jig goin on and Angel is so used to dancing to attract, but this moment when they just get to do this little dance that was safe, goofy, and a little messy was absolutely adorable. Husk is so proud dancing with Angel, whereas Angel needed a moment to get accustomed to the moves seeing as Husk wasn't going to force him if he didn't want to.

Their hand holding just makes me so happy and i-

𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨

[gguk-n]

Grand Prix Morning (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Congratulations Oscar on his first win!!

Summary- After watching the Hungarian GP and seeing Oscar apologise after his first win, you wish you could make him feel special and that he deserved it. So, you go to bed and wake up on the day of the GP!

{Reader's POV}

I wasn't sure if I should be happy or sad right now. Oscar Piastri just won his first race in Formula One and in his second season. That was such a proud moment until you remember the actual shit McLaren pulled on their drivers. I had been watching the race today, Oscar was pretty good in the beginning and being his fan I obviously hoped that this was the race he finally got his first win. But after the pit stop and Lando leading I didn't think possible; until I heard the radio message. I had mixed feelings. I rejoiced watching Oscar cross the chequered flag. But then I heard his message, apologising. It broke my heart into a million tiny pieces. But what could I do? My voice would be a tiny whisper in the sea. I shut my TV off, not in the mood to watch any of the post race stuff; because I felt bad for Lando too. I couldn't bear sitting through the interviews. So, I made myself some dinner, watched a rom-com to get my mind of things and went to bed, earlier than usual. I would deal with my emotions tomorrow.

Now when you normally sleep, you expect to wake up in your own bed, as an adult at least. When you were kids, that was a different story. My eyes were adjusting to the dimly lit room and a figure in front of me, walking around the room as quietly as possible. The room looked like a hotel room and the figure in front of me was Oscar Piastri. "Oscar" I said out loud. "baby, did I wake you up?" he asked like a deer caught in headlight. "No" I replied tentatively. Was this a dream? Was I this sad that this is how I was coping? "What's the time?" I asked reaching for the lamp. "It's 6 am. I'm gonna get some exercise done before I head to the paddock" he said while tying up his shoe lace. "I'll come with you when you leave for the paddock" I stated; scared to be alone where ever I was. "Sure babe" he replied, striding up to my side of the bed, leaning down and leaving a peck on my lips before whispering a bye against my lips and heading out.

My brain had short circuited. Oscar Piastri kissed me and called me terms of endearment. This has to be a dream but those pink lips were so real, warm and slightly dry and peeling. The way his hand cupped my cheek when he pecked me, the warmth still lingering against my skin. I reached for my phone to check what weekend it was; to my surprise it was the Hungarian Grand Prix today. The race Oscar won, maybe I'm here to wrong the right. I quickly showered and got dressed. If I got to be a WAG even for a day, I was gonna enjoy it. I wore a pretty coral midi dress. As I sat there in the room waiting for Oscar to return, a smile etched on my face as I went through my gallery.

We had been dating for a while, since his F2 days. He was all the bit romantic as I imagined him to be. My parents loved him, his parents loved me. This felt like a fairytale. There was one problem, Oscar would probably know that I was someone else and not his 'girlfriend'. I don't know how this version of me acted. The jig would be up so soon.

Oscar walked through the room, all sweaty and red from the work out. "Lemme shower and then we'll get breakfast" he said not even looking up while taking his shoes off. The moment his eyes travelled up from my legs to my face, a smirk plastered across his face. "You look gorgeous" he said almost breathless. I couldn't help but giggle. "You look hot" I replied. "Only for you" he shrugged. I felt the heat rise up from my cheeks. "Can't believe I can still get you this flustered, even after so many years" he smiled with amusement. I got up from where I was sat, "You'll get me flustered even when I'm an old lady" I muttered. "That's the plan" he grinned.

A freshly showered Oscar was proving to be the bane of my existence like out of the gym Oscar was. I wanted to jump him, but it didn't feel right and I wasn't taking advantage of him like this. The way to the paddock was filled with casual talk. Who knew Oscar could talk. At the paddock, we greeted the other drivers and fans we saw along the way. The McLaren hospitality was bustling with both pole and P2 starts were McLaren's. I tried to speak to their race engineers to gauge the strategy but I wasn't allowed. I even tried to talk to Lando and Oscar about the race, but they were busy discuss the details amongst themselves to pay much attention. I spent the majority of my time trying to figure out what I was supposed to do to change the scenario. I wanted Oscar to win but not with the mess McLaren created.

As the race progressed, like I had watched it play out. I realised, I wasn't meant to change the process or outcome. I was just here because I hoped and prayed to be able to comfort Oscar and celebrate his win like I hoped he was supposed to enjoy his first win. I watched McLaren fuck it up whilst I stood there next to him. I heard Oscar apologise for the second time, shattering my heart again. I rushed to see Oscar with the staff in tow. Oscar got out of the car and looked around, our eyes met. He came running with his helmet in hand, "I won" he whispered, only for me to hear. "I saw" I replied with tears in my eyes. "I'm so proud of you. You've come so far Oscar. You're the Hungarian Grand Prix winner, don't apologise for your win whatever it may be" I whispered. Oscar's face inches from mine, his eyes glistening with tears at what I said, "I love you, Y/N Y/L/N" he said out loud while wrapping his free arm around my waist and pulling me in for a kiss. The kiss was a mixture of tears and sweat, since the two of us had started crying. I cupped his cheeks, deepening the kiss, our emotions were all over the place. "Go and get your trophy, I'll wait for you" I said while pulling away from the kiss. "Be right back" he grinned and left to get weighed.

The podium celebration was bitter sweet, but I was not gonna let this over shadow his win and do what I was here for. I quickly got flowers delivered to the hotel and some sweets. I waited for Oscar to be done with the media and stuff while scrolling through my phone. The discourse was on another level, but the pictures of me and Oscar kissing were circulating every where. I wish I could take this back with me. Oscar's mum called and we were on the phone for a while. My parents called us to congratulate him as well. It felt so weird to hear Oscar was my boyfriend.

Oscar found me in his drivers room. "There's my grand prix winner" I stated. Oscar wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me up in the process. My hands stabilised myself on his shoulders. "I'm so happy we got to celebrate this together" he mumbled against my skin. "Me too" I muttered. "By the way, your mum called. You should talk to her later" I said urging Oscar to put me down. "Are you angry with me?" he asked, placing me on the ground. "What? no" I replied. "You've been calling me Oscar or nothing at all the whole day. I didn't think much of it before but now you said your mum when you normally say mum" I was caught off guard, "It's nothing like that" I tried to diffuse the situation. "My mum texted me too about your win and yours called. I just wanted to clarify" I said. "Oh" he hummed. "Now, let's go. Let's have a Oscar Piastri worthy celebration" I continued. "Like what" he asked. "Dinner in bed and a movie of your choosing." I answered. "Finally, I get to choose." he laughed.

We got back to the hotel, where there were quite a few flowers. I may have gone over board. We entered the room which looked like a botanical garden at this point. Oscar smiled taking the scene in. "For me" he whispered. "For you" I whispered back. "I wanted to show you how much I love you and how proud of you I was. This is just a small token of my happiness Osc" I said. "You're the reason Lando calls me Osc. Find a new nickname. I don't like sharing it with him. But thank you for this" he remarked. "Sure darling" I announced. He walked through smelling all the flowers. We spent the rest of the night watching a movie Oscar had picked and eating our hearts content.

I was scared to fall asleep, what if I woke up back where I was supposed to be. What if this 'reality' ceased to exist? As my eyes got heavy, keeping them open was a task. Oscar had started succumbing to sleep having switched the TV off. "Thank you for making my day even more special then it was." He mumbled. "Thank you for letting me show how loved and appreciated you are. I love you Oscar. Today, tomorrow and always." I whispered kissing his forehead; letting sleep take me. If I woke up back in my world, so be it. At least I made Oscar's day.

When my eyes opened to the bright sun shining from my window, no Oscar in sight. A silent tear fell from my eye. I wiped it away. Happy that at the very least I was able to heal my heart, and maybe his in another universe.

my heart wanted to write this for a while

[comatosebunny09]

Hear me out:

Bodyguard!Leon understands you lead a life of luxury. Knows you’re used to fancy dinners and luxury cars. Glittery things. But he also knows that those all bore you. That you prefer the simpler things. Stuffed animals won at the carnival. Carne asada tacos from the food truck park on the not so ritzy side of town. Swinging your legs on the edge of the pier, watching the stars glimmer in the sky subtly reaching for Leon’s hand.

He also knows the pretty boys who’ve flit in and out of your life haven’t offered you much aside from sex and empty compliments. That you haven’t gone steady for a very long time. That people often use you for your status and wealth. But you grin and bear it. You’re used to it. Expect it.

Which is why you’re a little alarmed when Leon drops a small, rectangular box into your hands one night in your parking garage. Clad in matte black wrapping paper, accented with a gilded bow.

Your limbs still hum with the champagne you consumed earlier, and it’s like hot potato trying to keep your present from tumbling to the ground.

Earlier, you attended a party for socialites and influencers. Stood out like a sore thumb—or at least, to Leon, you did. A nervous little wallflower, smiling pretty for TikTok and Snapchat. Less fickle than the people around, all bathed in the blue light of their phones.

You clung to your bodyguard’s sleeve despite projecting this air of confidence. Hid your anxiety behind a flute of Chardonnay for most of the night before Leon whisked you away to safety.

“For me?” you trill with a dazzling smile.

“Yeah,” Leon chuckles, sheepishly rubbing the scruff of his neck.

You’re so goddamn adorable. Garbed in his suit jacket that’s clearly too big for you, hair spilling from your updo, and your heeled sandals dangling from a curled finger.

Leon averts his gaze, shifting his weight between his feet. Doesn’t know why he feels so shy. So little beneath the sparkle of your eyes. He’s been with you for years. Seen you sweat, bleed, and cry. So why, why is he suddenly so damn apprehensive?

You’re tender as you unravel his gift. And his heart sits heavy in his throat. Your eyes light up with glee at what’s painstakingly revealed. And your chest puffs up with a gasp.

Leon’s so not smug as he eyes you in his peripheral. Isn’t smirking at how something so small makes you grin so big. Not at all.

“What the fuck, Leon! An OLED Switch?!”

He’s never heard you more ecstatic. Like a kid unleashed on a theme park. A woman left on her own in Target.

“No fucking way!” you continue, turning your box this way and that.

“Yes way.”

He bites back a smile as you do a happy jig and fist pump. Who told you it was alright to be this irresistible?

[samkerrworshipper]

exile | alexia putellas x reader

songfic based off of the song exile by taylor swift

warnings: pure angst, hurt/no comfort, cheating (sort of), divorce

I can see you standing, honey

With his arms around your body

Laughin’, but the jokes not funny at all

Tonight isn’t much different from your normal Sunday night.

Barca had beaten Atletico convincingly early in the day, unsurprisingly.

Locker room celebrations had very quickly been moved to a popular Barcelona club, a place that a lot of your teammates were thriving in.

There was dancing, drinking, partying.

It was the Barca way, Sunday nights were a good time.

You were seated in a corner of the club, surrounded by the likes of Keira and Aitana, your more introverted group watching your friends on the dance floor.

Your eyes didn’t budge from your girlfriend, who was on the dance floor.

It wasn’t abnormal, Alexia was one of the first people to hit the floor after a good win, you were happy with that.

The part you were less happy with was who Alexia was choosing to dance with, and how she was choosing to dance with said person.

Alexia was tipsy, which was clear in her mannerisms and the constant laughter falling from her plump and beautifully red lips which were softly singing along to the song that was thrumming against the floor of the club.

She was in the middle of the floor, surrounded by other teammates, grinding up against Jenni to the beat of the music.

Their bodies were practically intertwined, Jenni’s arms tangled around Alexia’s waist whereas Alexia’s arms were reached behind her back, resting on the small of Jenni’s back.

It was almost pornographic the way they moved up and down against each other, more like an organised rhythm that was well practised in contrast to an alcohol influenced jig.

You don’t want to feel jealous, but you can’t help it when Alexia is grinding up and down on her ex girlfriend in ways that you wished she would to you.

No, the grinding, the public displays of attention, any evidence of love between the two of you, that had faded long ago.

I think I’ve seen this film before

And i didn’t like the ending

You’re not my homeland anymore

So what am I defending now?

You’d love to be able to say that this isn’t a common occurrence, but it would just be a lie. Alexia is shamelessly attractive and dances like a stripper in all of the best ways.

You have appreciation for that, but a part of you always feels betrayed when Alexia so openly flaunts herself on somebody else, especially her ex, but it’s also something you’ve become accustomed to, whether you want to admit it or not, Alexia was never yours to keep, maybe for a short amount of time, but never long enough for her to take a permanent place in your life.

You don’t try and make excuses for her inattention to you anymore, not like when at the end of your honeymoon phase when Alexia started to drift.

It just hurt more, making up excuses when they were all untrue, you couldn’t defend Alexia’s actions, not to yourself, not to anybody on the team, not to the general public.

You were my town,

Now I’m in exile seein’ you out

I think I’ve seen this film before

For whatever reason it doesn’t bother you as much anymore.

You’ve watched Alexia walk out the door hundreds of times, and every single time she’s come back.

It’s some kind of weird toxic attachment where neither of you really love each other anymore but for whatever reason Alexia has chosen you to become attached to and you can’t do anything but sit by and watch as she detaches herself everyday only for her to reattach herself when she falls into your arms every night.

Once upon a time, Alexia was your everything, the reason your heart kept pumping, the solution to every single one of your problems.

I can see you starin’, honey

Like he’s just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

The worst of it all, Alexia looks, Alexia dances, Alexia smiles that same way she used to with you. You wonder if she’d smiled at Jenni the same way when they’d been together, if she’d loved her so viciously before becoming bored with her.

Alexia dances with Jenni like they’re the only two people in the room, and you’re frightfully aware that if anybody were to even attempt to get between them Alexia would put up a fight.

Second third and hundredth chances

Battling on breakin’ branches

Those eyes add insult to injury

It’s not like the whole situation is new to you either.

There has been plenty of women before Jenni, and there will be plenty afterwards.

You’ve stopped trying to count the amount of women that Alexia has toyed around with whilst being in a relationship with you.

She doesn’t cheat, she doesn’t break that barrier, she dances, she smiles, she laughs, she gives away every part of herself that matters the very most to you.

Sex and libido be damned, you’d spend every single day of your life in pain if it meant you got to experience Alexia smiling at you once again, laughing or craking jokes in front of you.

Those moments, those chances, are long gone.

Her eyes, the beautiful greenish hazel orbs no longer bother themselves with you, it’s almost insulting how she so easily can smile at Jenni when she can never manage to even give you a little quirk of her lips here and there.

I think i’ve seen this film before

And i didn’t like the ending

I’m not your problem anymore

So who am I offending now?

You don’t even flinch when the dancing turns into an extremely intimately looking hug, the two women continuing to grind up and down on each other as they stare at each other with a kind of earnestness and conviction that would make any girls’ heart flutter.

Alexia long ago learnt that you would never dare to object to her rather unprofessional moments with her teammates, you didn’t have the heart to.

She didn’t care if she hrut you, didn’t care if it killed every single organ and burst every single blood vessel in your body if it meant she was having a good time.

You were my crown

Now i’m in exile, seein’ you out

I think I’ve seen this film before

So I’m leavin’ out the side door

Ever since your Alexia, your heart, your soul, your home, became La Reina, she hasn’t been the same.

She had her crown, she had her throne, she had the world beneath her feet.

You would never be good enough for her, how could anyone be?

It’s fine, you're used to it, you're used to the sideways glances at other women, your okay with Alexia partying with other women. What you aren’t used to, or okay with is Alexia making out with her ex girlfriend, right in front of you, in the middle of a club, with all of your teammates surrounding.

Suddenly, before you can think or breathe or do anything your standing up, before Keira can try to stop you and bolt from the club, finding the nearest door and pushing it open.

The cold rush of the Barcelona air in the empty alleyway is the only thing that forces you to take a breath, the brittle cold air forcing it’s way into your lungs and burning against your wet and tearful eyes.

So step right out, there is no amount

Of crying i can do for you

All this time

We always walked a very thin line

You don’t want to cry, not when subconsciously you are crying over a woman that hasn’t been remotely yours in a long time.

You are though, big fat tears are rolling down your face unceremoniously as you try to regain your composure.

You don’t ask much of Alexia, you don’t expect much when it comes to receiving affection from her or receiving anything much from her.

You do expect one thing, if she’s going to be in a relationship with you, then she is going to stay loyal, there is no room for infidelity in your life.

You can’t handle that, you can’t handle spending every minute of every day that you are apart from Alexia wondering what she’s getting up to behind closed doors. You trusted Alexia with one thing, and she managed to betray that one piece of trust you harboured for her.

You know that Alexia has always teetered on the line of things, often blurring the lines of infidelity, but she’s never crossed it, she’s never kissed another girl, she’s never stepped out on you.

So this, it feels like a train has hit you straight in the chest.

You didn’t even hear me out (you didn’t even hear me out)

You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

You're not left out in the cold by yourself for long, the sound of the club side door opening, pulling you from your own mind.

Alexia is standing in front of you, hands fidgeting in front of her stomach as she looks at you, her front teeth biting down on her front lip as she tries to assess the damage.

“Bebita-I.”

You cut her off with your teary eyes and croaky voice.

“Ale I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to know.”

The Alexia you’ve grown used to would walk away, leave you in the dust and go back to whatever fun she’s having, but she doesn’t.

“You won’t even hear me out?”

You look up at her, the tears instantly drying and your look of pure agony transitioning into something of anger.

“I won’t hear you out? Alexia you just fucking cheated on me, no warning, no signs, just kissed your ex girlfriend in front of me, I don’t want to know why, I don’t care, clearly you didn’t care when you were making out with another woman in front of me.”

Alexia bites down further on her lip, teetering on the edge of drawing blood as she observes you.

“It’s not like that.”

All this time

I never learned to read your mind (you never learned to read my mind)

I couldn’t turn things around (you never turned things around)

‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

So many signs, so many signs

You didn’t even see the signs

You’ve known Alexia for ten years, you’ve been dating her for seven, married for four.

Those years don’t matter to her, they hardly matter to you anymore, but they mean something, you’ve devoted ten years of your life to a woman and sure, she’s not perfect, she’s everything but, it’s ten years of history though.

“It’s not like what? Alexia I can’t read your fucking mind, I can’t decipher everything you are thinking, so please, enlighten me, how the fuck is this not like that?”

Alexia, in all her years, has never seen you like this, you’ve never once raised your voice at her out of anger, she figures it’s a long time coming but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“Can we just forget about it?”

That hurts you even more, unless Alexia has a magical brain wiping machine, you know that neither of you will ever be able to forget this, your teammates won’t forget it, it’s not something forgettable.

“Of course, let’s just forget about it, god forbid La Reina ever had to put in the work to turn her shit around and get her life together and admit she fucked up, no we just have to forget about all of this. Let’s just go home, sí? We can go hop into bed together and I’ll just pretend that the woman sleeping next to me doesn’t have her ex girlfriends scent and kisses all over her.”

Your tone is cut throat, as harsh as a sharp knife.

“Nena, please.”

Alexia looks genuinely upset, and your kind of glad, she deserves to feel a fraction of what you are feeling, a slither of the turmoil and insurmountable pain that you’ve experienced in the last five minutes.

“Did I miss the signs? Was I so blind to realise that you love Jenni more than me? You sure kiss her like you love her more than me. God I don’t even remember the last time you kissed me like that. Our honeymoon? The first Ballon D’or? It’s been years Alexia, years of me sitting around waiting patiently for you to turn this all around, to realise that I love you more than anything else in the world. It’s fine, you want out, you can have out, I’ll get my lawyer to draw up divorce papers, I’ll move out, I’ll move clubs.”

Alexia’s face drops, that;s the last thing she wants, the very bottom of her list.

“Bebé, no, we can work this out, I’ll go to couples therapy, we can make this better, we can turn this around.”

You shook your head, a new wave of tears dripping down your face and onto your favourite night out top as you struggle to keep your composure.

“Alexia, I won’t be married to somebody who’s cheated on me, you broke our vows, sacred vows that we made in front of god. Marriage to me is a commitment, it’s a promise, you swore to me, for better or for worse, until parted by death. One of us might not have died, but a part of our relationship did when you kissed Jenni, I’m done, all the sleepless nights, the lack of love, the borderline cheating, you’ve toed the line but this time you’ve obliterated the line, so I’m done.”

You push past her, back into the club so you can collect your things.

You don’t even make it to the table before Keira has you in her arms, shielding you from the music and people.

“Need to leave, I need to go.”

Keira nods at you, Lucy has now joined the huddle around you, the two of them working together to keep you away from the eyes of any of your teammates or general bystanders in the club.

“We’ll get you home, let’s get you out of here, hmm? You can come back home with us, you're always welcome in our spare room.”

From back out in the alley, Alexia feels sick to her stomach, and there is not much more she can do than pick her phone out of her pocket and dial the only number she can think of.

“Mamí, I’ve ruined it all.”

[pomefioredove]

*does a little dance*

vil prompts you say? Can i get your take on Vil being confronted by Yuu's real and imminent return home? And it's their only chance too (ie. the portal can only be opened with a meteor traveling overhead and surprise surprise its passing NOW they have three days max)

*does a little jig, going away*

you guys love torturing this man omg. so much angst. I'm about to pour all my abandonment issues into him ikyk

summary: yuu leaving type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, angsty, post-book 7 author's note: my partner has been ignoring me for the past few days (I can't figure out why) so vil is about to experience pain, as he should

There are only six visible letters in lonely, and a thousand more hiding behind them.

The word carries such a weight with it, its meaning and its leaden implications, crushing the lungs of all who dare to shoulder it. It's a sore, tender sort of hurt, one that constricts the chest and numbs the limbs. Paralyzing, strangulating.

They say beauty is pain, but Vil has never felt more hideous in his life.

He had known; of course he had known. There was always a possibility you'd get your chance to return to your home, a world alien to him, and never come back. He'd been preparing himself for that reality from the moment he met you.

It didn't make it hurt any less.

Love is blind, but it's ignorant, too. Vil had pushed that thought to the back of his mind, covering it up with an if rather than a when, like throwing a veil over a tombstone. He had convinced himself that the chances of you leaving were slim, that when the time came, years from then, he'd be ready.

He wasn't counting on a few months.

"It works for about three days," you explain, a giddy smile on your face. He forces himself to share the expression. "The spell is so powerful, it can only be cast under specific circumstances... if I miss this, who knows when my next chance will be?"

Vil is an actor, yes, but this is different. This isn't something he's reading off a page to a room full of production assistants and actors. This is you and him, alone, tangled in an uncertain future with no ending in 12-point Courier.

His voice cracks. "That's wonderful,"

Sevens, is he selfish.

A part of him wants to slap you across the face and call you an idiot for even thinking about leaving him here, let alone being excited about it, but he can't even move his feet from where he's standing.

He should be celebrating with you.

He should be happy that you get to escape this terrible place. You get to go home, where you're accepted as you are, and loved, and where you belong...

But you belong with him. He accepts you. He loves you. Why do you need anyone else? What can they offer than he can't?

It's an egotistical fantasy Vil holds in the back of his mind for the rest of the day, one where you wake up and realize that your place is here, by his side, and not a world away from him.

He tries to convince himself it's not the end yet. Perhaps the spell will fail. Perhaps Crowley will change his mind. Perhaps someone else will overblot and throw the school into chaos. Each thought is more indulgent than the last, but without them, he might have lost his mind before noon.

What is he supposed to do?

Smile and wave while the only person who has ever understood and loved him unconditionally leaves him forever? Make a fool of himself pretending to be happy for you?

Every second without the certainty of seeing you the next day feels like an eternity.

It's wrong. He knows that. He can't keep you chained to the foot of his throne like a pet. You want to go, don't you? That's what you've wanted all along.

Once again, Vil only comes in second.

[hollisxwrites]

Hiii!!! I was wondering if you could do a Percy x Reader, where it’s a friends to lovers kind of thing, they have kind of a childish relationship, and they confess their feelings towards each other when Percy gets a bit jealous of the reader and Grover being close? If not that’s 100% okay! And either way I hope you have a good day or night xx🤍

our goat man friend did the underwater jig

percy jackson x fem reader

word count: 1.6k maybe?

authors note: GUYS. i love you all. thank you for supporting me and my work, I have 3k notes now, and 70 followers. i owe this all to you, and i am so proud of the work that i have done so far. i think this is the most unserious fic i have written; i wrote this at one am, but i think it's cute and fluffy and silly. i hope you guys enjoy my dancing goat man that i love so much! also, so sorry if this is not exactly what you were looking for, anon, i just kind of took a silly idea and ran with it lol.

warnings: jealous percy!, curse words, a fish, this is so silly.

Percy Jackson was my best friend in the entire world, but he was also someone that I love more than my life itself. Ever since we met one faithful day in June, my first day of so-called summer camp, we became inseparable. The son of Poseidon was beautiful, to say the least, and he was endearing. Everyone in Camp loved him, which made everyone in Camp love me, as we were pretty much joined at the hip. Starting when we were thirteen, we would spend the night in his cabin together since we were both plagued by vivid nightmares that left us both restless. It started off as just sharing his cabin, but then it came to sharing a bed, and eventually, us holding each other for maximum nightmare prevention. We also trained together, more and more often the older we got, and we even broke the rules and ate every meal with each other. The young campers, once we turned seventeen and were seen as the ‘cool, older campers’ thought we were dating, and one of them went as far to say that we were married. I could see where someone young would assume that, but none of the older campers said anything…to our faces. I heard the rumors, but I chose to ignore them, Percy and I were just friends. We teased each other, of course, and made sex jokes to each other all of the time, but we were just friends, sadly.

I was in love with the Percy Jackson. He was everything I could ever want, but I blocked out my feeling in order to salvage our friendship that I held so dear. That didn’t stop me, however, from thinking about kissing him every time we laid in his bed together, every time his hand brushed against mine, and every time we spared, and he pinned me to the ground. We spent every single day together, and so, of course, his friends became my friends, and that includes his best friend, Grover.

Though Percy was always going to be my best friend, my home, I was quite the sociable person, and so I enjoyed spending time with everyone. Grover was hilarious, in a quiet way, and he kept me on my toes and my wit in tip top shape. I slowly began to start spending almost as much time with Grover as I did Percy, and nine times out of ten, Percy would tag along, making us a happy little trio that most definitely got along. This specific day, we were spending time at Percy’s favorite place on the Campgrounds, the lake.

I was chasing after Grover and Percy who had taken off spiriting through the woods after they heard some rustling in the trees that they thought was a monster, or even worse, Clarisse, but it just ended up being a cute little bunny. “Guys!” I panted out. “Wait up, please!”

Percy looked behind himself and at me. He gave me one of his award-winning smirks and said, “just run faster, bitch!”

Grover snorted rather unattractively at that, but the joke didn’t stop him from slowing his pace to let me catch up to him. “Don’t want you to get lost.” Grover winked, making me laugh at his comedic gesture.

“Stop flirting and hurry up, don’t want anyone to have the same idea as us!” Percy, from about thirty feet away, yelled, a sour tone in his voice.

“Ew, we are not flirting, Perc!” I yelled back, in an equally disgusted tone.

Grover rolled his eyes at both of us and lowered his voice just to address me. “When are you going to tell him, girl?” He massaged his temples. “He is goo-goo eyed for you.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Never. I love him, but he doesn’t love me like that.”

Grover nearly groaned in annoyance. “{Reader}, I’m saying this because I am your friend, but you are acting like a dumbass. I have told you he loves you, and you love him, and why don’t you just act on it?”

Grover had been my wingman this entire time, encouraging me to grow some balls and ask the man of my dreams out. It all started this one time where, on a dare, someone asked Percy to kiss me, and he obliged without any protest. Putting two and two together, Grover decided that I liked Percy, and he liked me, and so we needed to date. That was three years ago. Nothing anywhere close to that, except this one time he kissed me on the cheek because…that’s beside the point.

“I will, Grover. I just don’t want to…”

My thought was cut off by us approaching the clearing where the man of the hour, the beautiful, Perseus Jackson stood, his arms crossed, and cheeks flushed from overexertion. “Took you guys soon enough! Let’s swim!”

Percy tossed his orange t-shirt aside and it took everything in my power not to stare. He was just too stunning. I followed suit, pulling off my athletic shorts and matching orange Camp shirt to reveal a deep blue swimsuit that I think showed off figure that I had acquired from training.

I dove in the water after Percy, and he scooped me into his freckled arms. “I like the swimsuit.” He said with a sheepish smile on his face.

“Thank you, Perc.” I said, my face flushed, but I pretended it was from the bright sun that was baking us.

Our moment was interrupted by Grover cannonballing right into the middle of our little bubble of unconfessed feelings, sending a tidal wave of water over Percy and I.

I wiped the water from my eyes when all of the sudden, Percy pushed me under the water. In the moment, I started to panic, a little bit, because I couldn’t breathe, but all of the sudden, I could. Percy was protecting me. My initial thought was, poor Grover, we’re abandoning him, but then my second thought was, holy shit, I’m underwater alone, in a bubble, with Percy fucking Jackson.

Percy smiled at me and hurried me along when we were finally able to touch the floor of the lake. I could see Grovers little goat feet treading water from above us, and it made both me and Percy giggle a little bit. Percy finally stopped pushing me along in his little bubble when we reached a beautiful cove of water lilies. I smiled at the boy in front of me, and he smiled back, a little awkwardly.

“Soooo…{Reader}.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. I giggled awkwardly. “Percy.”

“I see you and Grover have gotten…closer.” His eyes were unreadable, and I had no idea where this was going.

“He’s a twenty-something year old goat man who I see as more of a father figure than anything else, Percy. I am a seventeen-year-old demigod who has no father figure in her life. We may have gotten closer, but it’s nothing like that.” I said, a matter-of-fact tone in my voice.

Percy looked embarrassed at this, probably thinking about how he didn’t really think his accusation through. “That’s very true.” His eyes avoided meeting mine, and he seemed suddenly very interested in a fish swimming by me.

“Why do you care?” I asked, genuinely wondering. Percy shrugged at this, not confessing his real reason for dragging to the bottom of a dam lake. “Look at me, Perc, why do you care?”

His eyes finally met mine. “Because you’re mine, and I don’t want someone else to look at you the way I want to.”

I was…flabbergasted…to say the least. I was not expecting that. “Of course, I am yours, but to what extent? We can’t keep dancing around each other, waiting for someone to finally break the tension surrounding us.”

At this, Percy pulled us closer together, our faces inches apart. “This tension?”

My breath faltered. “This exactly.”

Percy let us linger on the feeling of closeness without pressing our lips together. Our eyes met, and our noses nearly touched, but neither of us took the next step. I could feel him breathing, and I was sure he could feel me, and the electric energy of love sparking between that I was sure the fishes around us could feel it. “Kiss me, asshole.” I mumbled against his lips, and his next movement made my head spin.

The kiss was…magical. I was unable to think of anything, not even how to breathe. Percy’s lips were everywhere and nowhere all at once, and my hands found his hair almost by instinct. Before things could get a little too far, both of us looked up and almost had a heart attack. Grover was right above us doing a little jig in the water, holding his nose, trying not to inhale water.

“What the fuck, Grover!” Percy exclaimed, laughing hysterically, his hands still around my waist. Grover floated back up to the surface, probably going back up for air, and Percy and I smiled at each other, laughter seizing our bodies.

We paddled back up to the surface. “Grover, I will slaughter you.” I said, the huge smile on my face telling him that my threat was empty.

“I win a bet! I win a bet!” Grover sang, doing his little jig on the beach now. “I am so glad I do not have to listen to you guys pine over each other anymore!”

I gasped and looked at Percy who froze beside me. “You pined over me?”

“That’s a story for another day.” Percy said, stifling back a laugh.

The rest of the day was bliss, my new boyfriend and annoying, jigging goat friend by my side, making that day a day that I would always remember.

[jojasimp]

KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING RN ON GOD

Headcanons on how I think Morris and Pierre cope with the stresses of life because they both have so much on their shoulders and I HAVE IDEAS!!! [All these are based off my own gameplay with the SD Expanded mod and Marry Morris mod too]

(Just a little TW for alcohol and drug mentions.)

[Morris]

He totally drinks on the job in the privacy of his office when it's inventory day (or when the higher ups are visiting)

Won't drink enough to get drunk (he's a heavy weight) but enough to calm his nerves

When he can, he goes to the beach

The waves and calm breeze soothes him

Willy will sometimes have conversations with him on the docks

When they talk, Morris will often confide in Willy only for Willy to give either some solid advice or some odd story that is wayyyy off base but still helps to distract Morris momentarily

Because of Morris's secret love of the ocean, he keeps a seashell or two on his desk as a reminder of better days to come

Doesn't go to the resort because he's ALWAYS WORKING

[Pierre]

Secret Stash

I'd like to think he will do yoga with his wife on the occasion

He'll feel really great after yoga and then quickly remember he's not really in shape any more

Then for the next week or two he'll be completely sore and cranky lol

Which is great because Caroline will just be trotting about the house like she's still young and free and not at all the same age as Pierre lol

Also, duh, he practices boxing when he can

He will take out his dusty old gear and GO HAM, DUDE

Oh you wouldn't believe how much he imagines the punching bag being Morris

He has issues... :(

He'll also visit the Saloon Tuesday nights

Also the resort... he'll visit the resort and just have an absolute blast baking in the sun (in more ways than one)

BONUS! [Dobson]

This man... oh boy

He goes above and beyond

He's extra

He gets his own special complicated af order from Stardrop Coffee (as he does every morning)

He'll go to the salon

He'll get that mani-pedi

You bet your booty he has regular visits to the top masseuse in Zuzu city!!

Mud masks? YES

Seaweed wraps?? Oh HECK yeah

Detox teas and hot tub soaking?

Yes.

And after all that?? SHOPPING THERAPY AND DINNER AT THE BEST STEAKHOUSE IN THE CITY!!!

This man has the vaca days I think we all may want...

[frenziedfireworks]

Bad Days

Bad Days with HP Boys!

(Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter)

CW : Mentions of anxiety (Fred), Draco being a lil inept to feelings, Ron being a bully (Draco), cheesy pet names, GN!Reader

Fred Weasley : 

Fred can tell what mood you're in most of the time. If you’re in a really shit mood he will baby you.. If it’s not as bad he will go for jokes and humor instead.

“Babe look at me” “I’m not in the mood Fred” “Just look”

He will blow himself up with some fireworks to prove his point and make you happy (much to your disagreeance) 

He will do anything you need.. ANYTHING. Just ask.

You had laid on the couch with your thoughts for what felt like hours. You still felt as anxious as when you started your ‘calming’ routine. You didn’t know why nothing was working today and everything felt off. Even normal and casual things had become the pinnacle of impossibility. 

“Ahem. Y/N, I would like to welcome you to the one and only show. A secret show just for you!” Your boyfriend bowed, his hands working at lighting sparklers. You watched as he did a silly jig, painting small pictures of hearts with the sparklers. The lights went out and he set the burnt sticks on the counter. Kneeling down to be level with the couch his hand brushed your cheek.

“Did you like my show, bunny?” His lips tickled against yours as he stole more than a few fair shares of kisses. You couldn’t help but grin into him as he attempted to crawl beside you.

“Babe you are too big to fit on that tiny portion of the couch.”

“Watch me.”

George Weasley : 

George picks up on your mood right away. 

He drops anything and everything and drags you to his bed

“The universe was telling me it’s cuddle time” “Is that so”

He will NOT let you out of bed.. Just accept your fate

“Fuck me.” You grunted as you walked into the living room. You had not had the best day at work and it seemed to only get worse. Your coworker had spilled coffee on you and then you got splashed with mud on your small walk back to the house. 

“Well don’t you look ravishing. Mud really suits your eyes, darling.” George snorted as you shrugged off your coat and shoes. You rubbed a hand over your face and sighed. You started walking to your shared bathroom hoping to get rid of the reminder of said shit day. 

“Baby, stop for a minute!” 

You turned ever so slowly to George’s frame which stood tall right behind. You raised an eyebrow.

“Take a shower and then come to bed, yeah? I need to treat you to some signature Weasley cuddles. They’re known to cure anything.” He leaned down to press a quick kiss to your lips and winked, leaving you alone to your thoughts. You felt yourself as you smiled just a tiny bit. He was something else.

Draco Malfoy : 

“What’s got you all pissy” (He didn’t mean it he swears)

The moment he realizes you are not just being sassy/sarcastic he is chasing you down

“Babe I’m so sorry what’s wrong” 

I feel like Draco has a lot of bad days and knows how it feels so he just sits and listens

He holds your hand/rubs his fingers across your palm.

“I’m sorry darling, you’ll always have me”

You walked out of Potions class absolutely fuming. The audacity of Ron Weasley to purposefully blow up your cauldron and then laugh at you! You had held back a few choice words and hexes, stomping away to be alone. You jumped as you hit something hard and a hand wrapped around your torso.

“Geez, love. Are you mad enough?” Draco smirked and you growled. You smacked your boyfriend's arms away and started sprinting. 

“Wait-Wait! Y/N!” Draco yanked at your shoulder forcing you to come to a halt.

“What in the world is wrong? I didn’t mean that to be rude. I’m sorry.” 

You rolled your eyes. This day just kept getting worse and worse. You knew he didn’t mean any harm but you were already so wound up that it felt like a gate came crashing down.

“Everything! Fucking potions is a mess. Ron decides to blow up my cauldron and Snape gives me a lecture.. I can’t get a fucking break.” You crumbled to the floor as the sobs continued.

“I’m just sick of this, Dray.” 

His hand wrapped around yours, fingers running soothing circles on your skin.

“I know, love. It’ll get better.”

Harry Potter : 

He just raises an eyebrow and takes you outside

“Where are we going Harry?” “Thought you’d like to clear your mind, love”

He just lets you talk for the most part and rubs your back while the two of you walk

Once you get it all out he will give you a little forehead kiss and make sure you’re all better :)) 

“Hey-” Harry startled you, your teary eyes meeting him. It had really not been your day and the last thing you wanted was for your boyfriend to find you like this.

“Harry, I-”

He shushed you, hand wrapping around your wrist to pull you up from your hiding cubby. He rubbed away at the teardrops that stained your cheek and sighed. You could tell he was worried to have found you that way but more concerned on getting you better.

He stepped away and held his arm out for you to take. The two of you fell into step as he led you out the back of the castle and onto the green grass of the highlands. The wind felt nice against your skin and you felt more at peace with Harry’s warmth next to you.

“Thank you. I really needed this.” You murmured and gave the boy a small smile when he met your stare. He gave you a reassuring hug and hummed.

“Anything for you. Come to me next time, okay?”

[drarrily-we-row-along]

"What?" Harry asked, whined really, squirming a bit in his seat and trying not to feel too pleased. Or rather, trying not to let how pleased he was feeling show on his face.

"What, what?" Draco asked, grinning at Harry as he scooped another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth and continued to look at Harry with that particular gleam in his eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, grin stealing over his face without his permission. In his lap, his fingers twisted around themselves as his heart fluttered around in his chest.

Fond. So impossibly fond. Looking at Harry like he was absolutely enthralled by his very existence. "Like what?"

Harry opened his mouth, closed it again, and shook his head. He looked down at his hands in his lap, fingers twisting while his heart continued its merry jig. "Like you love me," he murmured, shy and terrified of being too much, of reading too much into the expression on the other man's face, afraid that he was wrong.

"Harry," Draco said, voice light with gentle laughter.

He looked up, couldn't help himself, only to see that Draco's face was still doing that. Draco was still looking at Harry with such delight, such affection, that Harry couldn't breathe with it. His body was going to simply cease to exist, it wasn't possible for him to exist when he felt this loved, when he felt this happy.

"Is that all my face is saying to you?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He shook his head, looked away, bit his lip to stop the smile that was a product of the warmth that had spread from his chest and up his neck, warm and sweet as honey it filled his limbs, filled his brain, tried to erase his fears and doubts with more success than Harry would like, if he was being honest. Fears and doubts kept him safe, kept him from falling too far, falling too hard, falling into a place from which there was no returning.

"Do you want to tell me what else my face is saying?" he asked, teasing, and Harry ached with it.

He never wanted this moment to end. Never wanted to leave this place, leave this love, leave this perfect, crystalline day. Harry shook his head again, he couldn't say it. He couldn't tell Draco what else he saw on his face because what if he was wrong? What if he was just projecting all of his hopes and his dreams, but it wasn't really how Draco felt?

"I'm so into you," Draco sighed, resting his chin in his hand.

Harry looked up at him, couldn't help it. The smile was too big, too wide, his heart in his mouth ready to just spill his guts for what was surely not the first and hopefully not the last time.

"You're so attractive," he continued, giving Harry the words that he so longed to hear. "I love getting to spend time with you. I love when you look like this."

"Like what?" Harry asked, wondering what Draco saw when he looked at him, wondering if Harry said as loudly with his face and with his body that Draco was loved, was cherished. He wondered if Draco knew that he always wanted to be with him; always wanted to hold his hand, to cuddle on the sofa, to eat meals together, to tease him and make him laugh, to hold him when he was sad. "What do I look like?"

"Like you know you're loved," Draco said simply. "You look so happy, and I can't," he broke off, shaking his head, "I can't believe I get to be the one to put that look on your face."

He laughed, "What?" Without his permission, his fingers reached for Draco's, ghosting over his knuckles before Draco's fingers caught his and slid together.

"I love getting to make you happy," Draco said, shrugging helplessly, as he continued to look at Harry like he never wanted to look at anything else, face so open, so delighted that Harry felt like he couldn't quite look at him.

"I want to make you happy too," he said, squeezing his fingers, afraid, so afraid, that he was taking too much and unable to give Draco enough in return.

Draco lifted his hand, pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles, "You do. Harry," he said softly and Harry met his gaze once more. "You make me so happy."

"Yeah?" he asked helplessly, needing the reassurance, needing to hear the words to see his face when he said it.

"Yes," he said, huffing an incredulous laugh as he brushed his lips over Harry's knuckles once more.

"I love you." The words flooded out of his mouth, spilled between them without his permission. "So much, Draco. Do you know that too?"

"Of course I do," Draco assured softly, squeezing his hand. "Yes."

"A lot," Harry added, just in case his face wasn't as good at telling Draco as Draco's was at telling Harry. Just in case all of the love that filled up every nook and crevice in his body was being missed, just in case all of the love he felt and expressed differently was somehow not as readable, was somehow not enough.

"I know, love," he assured again, thumb brushing over Harry's wrist.

He squeezed the other man's hand, "It's different," he whispered, even though Draco already knew that, "Different than how you love me."

"Harry-" he started.

"But it's really big," he said, eyes filling with tears, "I love you so much."

"Hey," Draco said, moving so he could pull Harry into a hug, tucking him under his arm and letting Harry hide his face in his neck. "Hey," he soothed, "It's alright. I know, sweetheart. I know you love me just as much as I love you. I know."

"Promise?" Harry whispered.

He nodded, pressing his face into Harry's curls. "Yes, love. I promise. You're so good," he whispered.

He let out a soft sound, somewhere between a whimper and a word of dissent.

"You're so good. It's such a gift to be able to love you. You're such a good gift."

He wrapped an arm around Draco's waist.

"I love you," he murmured into his hair.

Harry nodded.

"Thanks for letting me," he added.

Harry hummed, he wanted to be loved more than anything, wanted this more than anything. But he could understand what Draco meant, it was scary to allow yourself to be loved, to believe that you are worthy of such a thing. Scary to imagine what could happen if you let yourself open up to the possibility of blossoming into a person who is loved, scary to imagine what would happen if you came to need someone else. Maybe sometimes part of loving someone else was allowing yourself to be loved in return. Maybe believing that someone loves you and letting them is itself an act of love to them. "I'm a little afraid."

Draco nodded, "that's okay. I am too sometimes."

"What do you do?" Harry asked.

He hummed, "Well, I ask if I can just let myself be happy."

"What?"

Draco shrugged, "I ask if I can just let myself be happy," he repeated. "Can today be enough for today? Can I just enjoy all of the good that this relationship has to offer without worrying about the possible loss in the future?"

"Can you?"

"Sometimes," he replied and Harry could hear the smile in his voice. "I try to. Because today is all we have and grieving what I do not know today has never made loss later any easier."

Harry sighed, snuggling a little closer.

"So, Harry Potter, can you just let yourself be happy today?"

He took a deep breath, thought about it, and nodded. He could do that. He could just let himself be happy. One day at a time.

-----------------

Read more of my fics, if you’d like

[emeritusemeritus]

No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 6

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. SMUT. The smut has arrived! P in V, oral (both). Angst, sadness, grief. Tags will be updated with each chapter. Not Beta-read or spell checked.

Waking up beside George Weasley was an absolute dream come true, far beyond your wildest imaginations. Light was creeping in through the thin voile curtains of the bedroom, casting everything in the room with an ethereal glow that only added to the sense of fantasy you had since waking. You were still naked but covered by the duvet that you'd shared with George, though admittedly there was more pulled over on your side than his. His arms were tangled around you, keeping you close to him in his sleep, his left hand placed over your belly as he half spooned you. The light glinted off the wedding ring on his finger; a sight that had you smiling into the open room, wanting so much to do a little happy jig at the very thought. You wanted to stay frozen in this moment forever, feeling exactly as you did and remembering all of it with such acute precision that you hoped never faded. Your bladder unfortunately had other plans and so you found yourself carefully but quickly trying to untangle yourself from George's arms, peeling yourself delicately away until you could creep into the bathroom.

Last night had been a rush of sex and sleep, without any thought to unpacking or preparing yourselves for the morning and so as you all but ran to the bathroom, you considered your options. The only clothes you had on hand were your wedding dress and that was an unquestionable no, there were towels you could wrap around you, wander aimlessly completely in the nude as you sought out your bags or steal George's shirt from the floor. The latter was the most reasonable and once you'd relieved yourself and washed your hands, you crept out to check that George was still asleep before ducking out of the room in search of coffee, slipping George's shirt around you as you walked through the rather chilly hallway.

Luckily, the owners of the cabin had left some basic amenities for you, including some fancy sachets of coffee that would require almost no work and so you quickly boiled the kettle and made yourself a coffee, setting a second mug aside for George whenever he would rouse.

George had brought in all the luggage last night and had placed it all by the couches and so you busied yourself with unpacking your toiletry bag and other items whilst you waited for George. You couldn't unpack your clothes yet, not wanting to wake him up and so you stayed in his shirt, feeling comforted by the smell and the soft material. It absolutely drowned you, the sheer size of it almost laughable compared to your smaller frame but it felt wonderful against your bare skin.

After tidying up, you walked over to the kitchen to make another drink, flicking the kettle on ready when the light from the window caught your rings and made them sparkle, catching your eye.

"I'm dreaming aren't I," you hear from behind you and you can't help but jump, even though you knew it would be George. You spin around to see him stood in only his suit trousers, clearly having the same issue you had. He looks so absurdly handsome in the morning sun, hair still messy from sleep and naked from the waist up. "There is absolutely no way people will believe that you married me, look at you."

He walks over to you as you shyly smile at his words, smirking down at you before he leans down and presses a kiss to your lips that takes your breath away, the passion of it coming from almost nowhere.

"Stealing my shirts already Mrs Weasley?" He teases with a smile against your lips, "Godric it looks good on you."

You can't reply, his words ringing in your mind as you feel from the sexiness of the rasp in his morning voice, the sight and sound of him too much for your brain to handle.

You kiss him back with a feverish passion, trying to project exactly how he was making you feel, your hands slipping up to his fluffy red hair. He groans into the kiss and moves forward to trap you against the counter, hips locked together as you keep kissing, the evidence of his arousal so plainly pressed against you. You're on fire, your skin burning with the need for real ease again, brain turning to complete mush as the need arises from nowhere.

His hands fight the last remaining button that was keeping the shirt together, the rest of them having being flung around the room in the skirmish last night. When he manages to pull it open, his hands immediately began pawing at your curves, your naked body exposed to him again as he growls into the kiss. His fingers dance over your skin until his long, skilled fingers slip between your legs.

You moan against his lips as he strokes across your pussy lips, gathering the abundant wetness and teasing your throbbing clit with a feather light touch that drives you mad.

Suddenly, his hands fall away from your pussy as he begins kissing down your neck, over your breasts and across your tummy, sinking downward into his knees. His tongue pokes out and catches your clit with dangerous precision that it makes your knees buckle, though he holds you steady. He reaches out to grab your leg and hooks it over his shoulder, keeping his other hand on your hip so he could hold you steady. Bared before him, he immediately drags his tongue over your puffy lips before sinking deeper until he runs his pointed tongue right from your entrance up to your clit. He circles the aching bud with the tip of his tongue, moaning as he does so, before wrapping his lips around it and gently sucking in little waves that make your head spin. You cry out, unable to hold back as you call out his name, being perfectly worked over by his incredible mouth.

He quickly pulls away but before you can whine in protest, his hands cup your bum and hoist you up onto the counter, legs instinctively parting for him.

He wastes no time, finding that the counter was almost the perfect height for him and licks up and down your pussy, gathering and spreading your wetness leaving no place untouched. You're aching for him, deliciously tormented by his skilful tongue but you need more, need him to fill you.

You reach out for his head, removing your hand from where he'd entwined your fingers on your thighs, pausing him. He looks up with a questioning gaze and you can't help but bite your lip as you look down at him, beckoning him. You pull him in for a blazing kiss as soon as he reaches the right height and your hands immediately set to unbuttoning his trousers, pulling his cock free as they fall to the floor. You pump him in your hand, the delicious weight and girth of him almost making your mouth water as he moans, resting his forehead against yours as he enjoys your work.

"Fuck me Georgie, need you, need to feel you stretching me out," you whisper, moaning at the very thought. You scoot forward on the counter so that your bum overhangs, aligning your hips so that you can guide him through your heat, teasing him before you line him up with your waiting hole. He sinks in slowly, allowing you to breathe through the delicious intrusion, feeling your walls flutter to accommodate him. He pulls out slowly before sinking back in with more force, feeling no resistance from your pussy now. His hands are everywhere, as are yours as he begins thrusting with the most incredible rhythm, hard and fast enough to quench your desire but slow enough on the pull out that you can feel every inch of his perfect cock. He bends down to pull one of your sensitive nipples into his mouth as he fucks you, your bouncing breasts drawing his attention. He licks and sucks over the nipple and you cry out in ecstasy, feeling completely consumed by him again.

Your hands wrap into his hair and around his shoulders, fingers grazing the silver chain around his neck, keeping him close, before you slip down to graze his abdomen, fingering slipping lower to feel where you're connected, feeling your pussy lips stretched out to accommodate him. Your finger slips over your clit and you throw your head back, narrowly avoiding a wooden cupboard, needing just a little more.

George seems to sense this, the angle not being completely perfect and suddenly pulls off your breast before reaching for your thighs. He pulls you away from the counter, keeping your hips aligned and walks you over to the nearest wall, his cock still deep inside you. He holds you tight as he fucks you, the new position making fireworks explode in your mind as he shifts you up and down on his wonderful cock, fucking into you with complete abandon. It's incredible, mind blowing and undoubtedly the best sex you'd ever had. His arms are bulging under your weight and his face is confronted in such pleasure that you can't help but watch him, your own hips bucking harder and faster in an attempt to keep him inside you. Your exposed clit rubs against the little patch of hair above his cock where you're joined and it's sheer ecstasy, every single part of your body at George's mercy.

"Georgie, I'm," you cry out, feeling your orgasm hurtling towards you. He nods, unable to find the words as he fucks harder and harder into you, knowing that his own climax was rapidly approaching. "Cum in me George, baby fuck please cum inside me!"

He roars as he cums, almost on command, dragging you with him so that you climax together, your body contorting and bucking up into his as you cry out. His grip on you is almost painful but it's so erotic, the primal urge so evident as you both ride out your highs together, cock pressed deep inside your clenching walls, chests pressed tightly together and lips searching for each other to whisper sweet nothings and curses.

He rests his head against yours as you both come down, each of you chuckling before he leans down and pressed a much sweeter kiss to your lips before he slowly pulls out and places you down onto the ground, keeping you steady.

"I'm stealing your clothes more often," you joke breathlessly, trying to fight through the somewhat awkwardness that had filled the room after the moment had passed.

"Steal my clothes anytime," he replies, panting himself as he slips his trousers back on, keeping them zipped but unbuttoned. He kisses your head as he walks around you, hand stroking your naked bum cheek as he slips in beside you to boil the kettle, preparing two mugs. You walk over to your suitcase and try to find a fresh pair of clothes and underwear before slipping into the shower.

The shower cleansed not only your body but your soul, washing away the last remnants of your wedding makeup, hairspray and George's cum that had begun to leak out of you and down your leg. You looked at your wedding rings in the shower with a sense of bewilderment, unable to believe that this was actually happening for you.

Until you remembered that it was all fake.

Suddenly you felt sick to your stomach, ashamed and guilty that you'd fallen for your own lie. You'd slept with him, multiple times now and had forgotten the most basic part of the plan, the entire reason for all of these things- it was all fake for the sake of the business. You'd let yourself get drawn in and had been so naive to think that for even a second George would actually want you like this. You were a pity fuck, because he couldn't have anyone else for the next two years, you'd have to do, a temporary agreement, a place warmer.

The high you'd been chasing since yesterday morning had well and truly ran out and crashed down around you, the lightness you'd felt in your chest changing rapidly to a sinking feeling in your gut.

But he'd kissed you. He'd wanted to take your dress off, he'd admitted that, he'd wanted to fuck you. He'd arranged and taken you to this beautiful cabin, called you Mrs Weasley nearly everyone he'd addressed you- that didn't sound like you'd constructed this fantasy entirely in your own head.

Realising that you'd spent way too look brooding in the shower, you rinsed off and turned off the shower, stepping out into a big fluffy towel.

Silently you vowed to yourself that you'd have to talk to him, confront him even on what was happening, as much as you didn't want to. You vowed to yourself that there would be no more intimacy until you knew exact what you were to him.

You dressed quickly and ran the brush through your hair, using your wand to quickly cast a drying spell, a little one off that wouldn't break your agreement to limit magic whilst you were away. When you stepped out, George was reading on the couch in silence, his mug steaming in front of him and the second mug beside his on a matching coaster, waiting for you.

He smiles when you take a seat beside him, finishing up his chapter before he kisses your head, mumbling about taking a shower.

For the rest of the day you fill your time unpacking, reading and then going on a long walk that George had suggested, along one of the many trails through the woodland. If George noticed that you'd been slightly distant, he'd not mentioned anything. Even when you walked ahead or slightly behind, keeping physical distance between you so that he couldn't take your hand, he'd said nothing.

You grabbed lunch at a pub you'd stumbled across on your walk and though you'd conversed as normal, inside you felt that something was missing, feeling wrong all of a sudden, the narrative in your head completely destroying the magic of what had been.

When you returned to the cabin in the early evening, the sun was just setting and the sky was a beautiful mosaic of pink and orange marbled together peeking from behind the tall canopy of trees. George steps behind you and for the first time since this morning, he places his hands on your shoulder lovingly and whispers in your ear.

"I don't know about you Angel, but I think it's time we tested out the hot tub."

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[juuuulez]

📰 | part ten: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers, gun violence, father figure! Negan, soooomeeee ooonneee has a crush, teenagers in love.

summary: You tussle with your emotions regarding Carl, whilst Grimes and co pay a surprise visit to the Sanctuary.

omg i’m on fire!!!!! cliffhanger ending……but also next chapter will be similarly juicy so don’t fret! also half-written a carl x reader oneshot/drabble i’ll post soon between chapters :P

i’m so glad you all love my saviour reader story because i am her she is me…….this series is my CHILD i will defend it with my life!

-> masterlist <-

You hadn’t been to Alexandria in, frankly, what felt like years.

It was actually just weeks.

With an alliance between Hilltop, the Kingdom, and Alexandria, things for the Saviours were trickier than ever. Most of the time Negan spent in his office, trying to decode the best play. You helped, of course, and were practically running yourself ragged trying to keep things together at the Sanctuary.

It felt like everyone knew what was happening. Or they expected it, were waiting for it. It irritated you to no end, that others would blatantly show their disbelief in your cause, in Negan’s cause.

And then there was Carl.

You missed him, which was weird. He had become a constant in your life, the arguing and fighting, the pushing and shoving. But now your relationship had crested into something else… and you didn’t hate it.

In fact, you quite enjoyed kissing Carl.

Not that you’d admit that. To him, to anyone. Nobody needed that amount of power over you.

“You can go to bed, doll.”

You looked up from your lap, where a book of supply schedules was scribbled down. You were seated on that long leather couch in Negan’s office, whilst he worked on god knows what. Hopefully a viable strategy.

“No, I’m fine.” You tell him, politely. Too politely.

Truth is, you were hanging on by a thread. But with no supplies from Alexandria, nor Hilltop, the situation at the Sanctuary was becoming dire. You were trying to figure out how to jig things around so that everyone could be satisfied, or maybe even rethinking the points system, making the imaginary economy more competitive.

“I’m serious,” Negan insists, “You don’t gotta be doin’ this shit. It’s below you.”

You roll your eyes, “Who’s gonna do it, then? Simon’s corpse?”

The sarcastic comment earns you a glare in return, which does make you feel a little bad. You’d watched the brawl firsthand, and had almost tried to help Negan, if not for Dwight holding you back. Either way, it didn’t matter, for Simon was eventually strangled to death.

Brutal, but fitting.

Maybe you were trying to fill that void. The line between right-hand man and teenage daughter was thinning.

Negan rose from his seat, coming over to stand in front of you. He didn’t even need to lean down, swiftly plucking the tattered notebook from your lap, to which you groaned and leaned back on the couch.

He inspected it, reading over the numbers and scrawled figures. “You’re doing this wrong.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should start making your wives do the bookkeeping.” You grumbled, laying down on the couch in defeat.

Negan tossed the notebook onto the coffee table, sitting on the couch opposite you. “Doubt they can count past ten.”

It was a terrible thing to say, but got a smile out of you. It was difficult to be in a good mood on so little sleep, so the tiniest hint of happiness was well appreciated.

“When will we go to Alexandria again?”

You tried not to sound too interested in the question, but couldn’t help yourself, and needed to ask. Not for Carl, just for supplies. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Soon. Give it another week,” Negan confirmed, though his eyes said he knew something more. “Awfully interested in that shithole, aren’t you?”

This caused you to roll over, onto your side, so you could glare over at the older man. “We need that shithole to survive.”

There was a playful glint on Negan’s face, the words earning a small laugh from him. “Maybe you do. Bet you’re just itchin’ for your little cyclops.”

The joke causes you to bristle, irritation rising as you hoist yourself from the couch, making a play for the door. On such little sleep, you weren’t in the mood to entertain being teased.

But Negan stopped you, that grin still on his face. “Hey, c’mon, doll. You know I’m just tryin’ to rile you up.” He admits, coming to a stand.

The glare remains, but at least you stop your escape, instead just standing near the door with your arms crossed. You’d likely give some defensive retort, but Negan is already speaking again.

“Everyone has their first crush at some point. I’m just surprised it took you this long.”

“I don’t have a crush,” You practically snarl. “I’m not twelve years old.”

“Okay, sorry. Not a crush,” Negan approaches slowly, like you’ll run off again, though is pleased when you stand still. “Sounds like it’s past your bedtime.”

Your nose scrunches up, eyes narrowed in offence as he continues to treat you like a child. But you know he’s just making a point to tease you, judging by that stupid grin on his face, so you try not to react.

His hands bracket your arms, giving you a little spin so that you’re facing the door. But now you sigh, turning back around, unable to just drop this conversation all together.

“You don’t care?” You ask. “Like, if I did have a crush, you don’t even mind? Not that I do, I’m just… wondering.”

Negan smiles, finding your half-confession quite adorable. “That’s what kids do, darlin’. Besides, the boy’s got his head on straight. Certainly got more balls than his father.”

You look down at the floor, a little pensive. “I don’t have a crush on Carl.” You reiterate, standing your ground, trying to sound firm in order to convince the both of you.

He seems to get the hint, understanding that maybe you don’t even know what’s going on. “I know, doll. Don’t stress it too much.” Negan drops the subject, letting his arm encase your back for a small squeeze before letting you go. “Go get some rest.”

You muster up a little smile, finally accepting the offer and scampering back off to bed. After all, you were exhausted, despite that inherent need to make yourself useful. Supply counts could wait.

It was a comforting space, your bedroom, one you retreated to whenever things got overwhelming. It was filled with photos and trinkets, candy stashed away in the drawers, all the things you didn’t have when growing up. It was your space.

That night, you fell asleep weighing the severity of simply going to Alexandria yourself. You passed out a few minutes into debating what transportation to take.

Fortunately, or, probably unfortunately, that wasn’t necessary.

For Alexandria had come to you.

Gunfire was a familiar sound to wake up to. Usually, it was a low-level squabble, or maybe one of the Saviours proving a point. Either way, it never lasted long.

But this time, there was shouting, and more bullets. It was enough to jolt you awake, pushing past that bleary state of consciousness and waiting, still, for it to continue.

It did.

You climbed out of bed with urgency, moving on autopilot as you threw on some jeans, not bothering to change from your sleep tank before bolting for the door.

Just as your fingertips brushed the bat, you realised it wouldn’t do. That gun was still locked away in the bottom drawer, so you reached for it, shoving a handful of bullets into your pocket before leaving.

Now, you’ve never been a very good shot. That’s why you preferred using the bat, or at the very least, hand-to-hand combat. You had terrible aim. But maybe now was the best time to fix that issue.

So, you made your way through the Sanctuary, swiftly stepping through hallways, gun at the ready. You were outside in minutes, the shouting becoming much clearer now, a voice you could recognise:

Rick Grimes.

“Fuck this..” You grumbled, growing irritated with this relentless back and forth. And now, they were in your home.

Another shot blew out the glass from above you, forcing you further against the wall, as the shards piled on the concrete. Some littered your skin, your shoulders bare, due to still wearing a tank intended for sleeping. You didn’t even have a bra on.

But there were worse problems, you supposed.

The gun felt heavy in your hands, fingers twitching around the trigger. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to use it, though that seemed like wishful thinking. You wondered where Negan was, yet believed he could handle himself. You and this gun were the main concern, a gun you had no idea how to use effectively.

You hid behind anything available, crouched down, trying to survey the surroundings. From here, you could see the scattered factions of makeshift soldiers, though Rick was now missing. You presumed he had a similar thought process to you: Negan.

That was fine, for now.

Clutching the gun tightly, you shifted into view, holding it outwards and discharging a shot into the distance. It echoed in the nearby vicinity, though there was too much gunfire to distinguish where it had came from, luckily. It didn’t seem to hit anyone.

What a waste.

“Hey!”

It was a whisper-shout, one clearly intended to gain your attention. You spun your head around, searching for the voice, amongst all the yelling and fighting taking place within your home. It took an embarrassing amount of time until you saw him.

Carl.

Thank fucking god.

He’d been watching you, on alert for your figure the second they arrived. He clocked your creeping approach into the battle field, ducking behind anything possible. It was almost amusing, the stark contrast in how you usually chose to fight, but made sense after you fired that hopeless shot.

You had no idea what was going on, assuming that Negan and Rick were off fighting, whilst a few Saviours tried to keep the rival gang at bay. Or gangs, plural. You guessed that speaking to Carl would be your best chance at getting a grip on the situation. That, and you weren’t in the mood for a defensive Saviour to shoot him.

So, you tried to get closer, looking left and right to make sure the coast was clear before ducking behind rubble or vehicles, anything to provide cover. Carl was used to fighting, sure, but felt slightly anxious for a reason he couldn’t pin. It was just a bad feeling, like something was not right.

This time, Carl called out your name, causing you to look up and at attention. He held out his hand, despite being meters away, a signal to come closer under the cover he’d found.

You clutch the gun tightly, safety off, poised at your side. But it’s difficult to see everyone, from this position, forcing you to inch out from behind the truck in order to get a visual.

Still holding out his hand, Carl waits, watching as you peek your head out.

Pop!

A shot fires, crackling in the distance, though it takes you down with a solid thud.

[kittyball23]

Close Call (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: Viva’s acting funny one morning after Poppy barges into her bedroom, but does her sister even notice?

A/N: Based on an idea suggested by @chipmunkfanno1love :) **Rated M**

__________________________________________

“Viva! Viva, Viva, VIVA!!!”

Poppy's voice burst with excitement in the same manner that she so enthusiastically burst into her sister's room from their shared pod. The Pop Queen twirled on the spot, doing a little jig, allowing the Putt Putt Queen just the fractions of time she needed in order to conceal what she had to.

Viva popped up from under the duvet, sitting straight up in her bed. Sheets were wrapped tightly around her body and being held up against her chest with one hand, while the other was planted firmly on the blankets that were beside her.

“Oh! H-hey, Poppy!”

“Viva!” Poppy cried again, trembling with joy. “I'm getting married! TODAY!!”

“Yeah! I know!” Viva said, plastering a smile onto her face that she hoped didn't go off revealing the nerves that the younger Troll didn’t even seem to notice were there. “I am, like, soooo excited for you! This is the most fantast-amazing thing ever!” Then, in a more hushed voice that she directed at the blankets, she hissed, “DON'T move.”

Poppy cocked her head, breaking out of her happiness for a few seconds to be confused. “Huh?”

Viva’s eyes widened, startled at the thought that Poppy might’ve caught on, but she brushed it off with what she believed to be a convincing explanation. “Oh, sis, don’tcha know? Sometimes I gotta talk to myself! Like, if I was to jump outta bed right now, you would totally not be able to breathe with the hugenormous hug I would give ya since, y'know… you're getting married!”

She was a little proud of her new made up word, and that the mention of the marriage worked exactly like the charm that she thought it would be.

Poppy beamed, and she squealed. “I know, right?! I can hardly believe it! EEEEE!!”

“YEAH!” Viva agreed, tilting her golden-curled head (perhaps a little more tussled than usual if Poppy had been paying closer attention) meaningfully over toward the door. “You should get going. The dress isn't going to put itself on!” she giggled.

“But Veevs, aren't you coming?” Poppy extended her hand out, about to grab her sister by the wrist and haul her up, though Viva scooted away before she did.

“NO!” she yelped, a little too loudly at first, enough to perhaps raise suspicions, but she quickly recovered, clearing her throat. “I - I mean, I’ll join you in a sec, sis, gotta take a morning stretch, gather up all my energy if I wanna have enough so we can hit the dance floor later on!”

“And also so you can jump up and grab the flower bouquet,” the Pop Queen said with enough suggestion to make Viva blush.

She tittered shyly. “Oh, you know me too well, Pops!”

Poppy put her hands on her hips and eyed the pink Troll playfully. “Uh-huh, and I also know you’re probably thinking about Clay right now!”

Viva quickly turned it around before her blush could get any redder. “Oh, and you’re not thinking about Branch? And how surprised he’ll be when you show up on the altar in your usual getup?” she asked teasingly.

Poppy put her hands up. “Oh yeah, you got me there, hehe! I’ll see you in a bit, Veev!”

She bounced off merrily, bringing the Putt Putt Queen relief. She exhaled a sigh as the tension of the nerves disappeared. “Phew! That was close…”

“Please tell me I can come out now.”

Viva giggled at the mix of desperation and annoyance in the muffled voice, and tugged the blankets from the bed away. In its place sat up Clay, wearing nothing more than the relief that was on his face. “Thank goodness,” he mumbled, and then quickly amended. “I, um, I mean, nothing against your sister, V! I like when she’s around, just, um, not after… um… not…”

“Not like this,” Viva finished, nodding in understanding, gesturing at themselves. “Totally get it.”

She averted his gaze timidly, twirling the end of one of her curls, and he averted hers, scratching at his bare chest.

“Uhh… she didn’t know I was here, right?” he asked after a minute of awkward silence.

“No, Clay,” Viva assured, chuckling as she patted his hand. “You are so cute when you worry.” Then she got up, retrieving her leotard and legwarmers from the floor and tossing his cardigan at him. “You better put this back on if you don’t want Pops to suddenly burst in here again and find you au natural.” She laughed when he peeled the romper off his face, the item of clothing having landed right on his nose and hanging from there.

Clay smirked. “Huh. I’m surprised she didn’t even notice our stuff in the first place,” he said.

Viva shrugged. “What can I say? Poppy’s like that!” she giggled. “When she’s hyper, she doesn’t notice much of anything except what excites her.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Clay said jokingly. “You might know her too. Loves strawberry milkshakes, and braiding hair, and - “

“When green-haired dorks shut their mouths for a sec so she can kiss him already?” Viva cut in, batting her lashes and leaning towards him.

Clay grinned, leaning in to fill the gap and answering her. “Yeah… that.”

[jokertrap-ran]

[うたプリライエモ] Uta no Prince-sama LIVE EMOTION 2024 Birthday Greetings Translation (Side: ST☆RISH)

*T/N: I did this on a whim but I did promise some utapri content, so.

Otoya: It’s finally the day! I’ve been waiting for this day to come!

Otoya: Because it’s your birthday, of course! And that’s why I’m gonna throw you the best celebration ever!

Otoya: But first, let’s start with this. Happy birthday! Love ya!

☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆

Masato: Today’s your birthday, right? I’m glad to be able to celebrate such an important day with you.

Masato: I’m sure everyone has already wished you a happy birthday, so I hope mine will be an unforgettable one.

Masato: Happy birthday. I hope I can help maintain that smile of yours forever.

☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆

Natsuki: Happy birthday! You’re shining remarkably brightly today. Or is it because I’m in a supremely good mood?

Natsuki: I wish to thank you for being born, and for meeting me.

Natsuki: I want to hold on tightly to this joy and continue watching you up close, closer than anyone else out there.

☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆

Tokiya: Today is a brilliant day, isn’t it? I suppose you can call it your one day of welcoming the new year.

Tokiya: Happy birthday. Since it’s such a special day, allow me to fulfill your wishes.

Tokiya: You can ask anything of me. There’s no need to hold back. Of course, if it’s something of the passionate nature…

☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆

Ren: Happy birthday. Even I get excited on such a special day.

Ren: I’m going to ask you out for a special date before this jig is up. Allow me to take you out for the day.

Ren: I’ve made lots of preparations for this day, so it’s safe to say that you can look forward to it. I think you’ll come to enjoy what I have planned.

☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆

Syo: Happy birthday! How about entrusting today’s schedule to me?

Syo: I’ll make it the best day of your life. Yeah, I swear I will! So… let’s spend today together, okay?

Syo: I’ve already made plans for us to do all the stuff you like, so… I’m just waiting for you to give me the green light.

☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆

Cecil: Of course, I have something to tell you when it’s your birthday. Will you hear me out?

Cecil: Kongristore! A word of congratulations filled with utmost love, reserved only for today.

Cecil: Let’s spend time alone together after this. It’s still not enough. I want to convey more of my feelings to you.

[nimmie-nugget]

~Reincarnated as a Knolastname~

Note: HAPPY SPOOKY MONTH!! 🎃👻 gonna be honest- I actually think Crimson might have cared atleast a bit for Moxxie when he was a child 😭 Anyway~ take some reincarnated Moxxie’s Sister Reader Headcanons!! 🥳 Do keep in mind that characters may be ooooooooc, and when there’s 8 O’s you know it’s extreme 🤯. Also I haven’t been doing Tokito Twin’s content for a while so I just wanna reassure that I have some HCs coming up for them 😫!! Enjoy!

P.s in the back flashes of EXES AND OOHS I think Moxxie was 4? Yeah so that makes you 7, your 3 years older 😋👌 tho age is not mentioned at all- and I will make fics of this 😤

Warnings: a lot of slang(not rlly a warning, just thought I’d mention), ooc, may have punctuation, spelling grammer/etc errors,

Info: idk man just wanted to add this 😐

Edit: HOW DOES SOMETHING LIKE THIS- A POST I BARELY PUT ANY EFFORT INTO GET MORE RECOGNITION THEN THIS POST, THE ONE I ACTUALLY PUT EFFORT INTO 👹👹 I appreciate the likes tho don’t take it in a bad way- 😭👌

Edit#2: I recommend u don’t read 💀👍

Helluva Boss Masterlist

______________________________________________________________________

~Reaction to being Reincarnated~

-long story short you don’t know how you ended up here but you found yourself being the daughter of some random old ass guy that’s gonna be the main reason for your character development arc.

-at least that mom with an unknown name will provide you sweets and shit-

-gonna put sum realz shizz on this family fr.

______________________________________________________________________

~Death~

-isn’t this Tumblr? Yeah long story short this turned into a Wattpad story for a second and the famous Truck-kun killed you 🗿 but you forgive Truck-kun since Truck-kun’s just being Truck-kun 😌.

______________________________________________________________________

~Inside a Mansion~

Yup this “Mansion” is someone’s womb, zamn how da heck do you still have memories of your past life? Also why does your very tiny unformed body kinda look like an imp? Just like one from your favourite show Helluva Boss? How can you even see??? It’s pitch black bro- meh it’s whatever 🤷‍♀️ it’s fun kicking at least-

______________________________________________________________________

~Borth~

…I’m not even gonna explain this 🫡 but just so you know Crimson was not there for your birth 😶

-at least you still have the same Borthdah as you did before you were reincarnated???

-Girly just 🖕 this bullshit why’d you have to be re-born in this family out of all the ones in Helluva Boss? I mean- you don’t mind being Moxxie’s gay emo sister but like- Crimson…CRIMSON. Tho make sure to start those teenager phases early so no one becomes suspicious of you when your going through the teenage thinga ma jig 😔

-but yay! You bet that Moxxie’s mom- well basically your mom now, WILL BE THE BEST 😩

-but girly you weren’t even fazed when reincarnated- just accepted it like a champ 😎

______________________________________________________________________

~Crimson’s First Thoughts On You~

-Absolutely nothing- 😃

-only thought of you as his heiress and DEFINITELY to lead his Mob in the future 😔

______________________________________________________________________

~[Unknown]’s First Thoughts On You~

-this is the Mom btw 😃

-gonna be honest I don’t know much since we’ve never really gotten a FULL view of her personality- all that I know is that she’s kind? 🤷‍♀️ Yuh so I won’t really directly say what she thought but I guess I can just- I don’t know man just read I guess 😃👌

-101% THOUGHT YOU WERE CUTE AF!! what happened to infinite%? 😢

-she felt a warm and fuzzy feeling inside, something she never felt ever since she married Crimson 😔.

______________________________________________________________________

~Moxxie’s First Thoughts On You~

-‘Guppa duppa poo daaah dooo’

-don’t tell me you actually expected a real thought from him- Broski was just born 😔

______________________________________________________________________

~Your First Thoughts On Moxxie~

-‘zamn bro’s crying on his borthduh I could never 🙄💅’

-girly he’s like a few minutes old what on Satan’s ass are you talkin ‘bout? 😀

______________________________________________________________________

~What Crimson Thinks Of You~

-your a nuisance, like- what do you mean when you say “put those dawgs away💀”

-yeah you definitely got in trouble so many times- this stupid MF can’t understand slang and just thinks your insulting everyone around you 😶

-forget about you being his heiress, might as well make Moxxie his heir instead 😠

-Now take a very ooc dialogue 😋 btw this is after the Mom’s death 😃

-“[Name], cut it out. That will happen if you don’t stop.” He says calmly, too calm for you to know he’s pissed. (he was implying that he will drown you just like he did to the Mom btw-)

______________________________________________________________________

~What [Unkown] Thinks Of You~

-Loved you from the moment she layed her eyes on you 😩 (cheesy much 😶)

-wrote more then a dictionary just to prove how much she loves you 😔

-yuh that’s all I got 😐

______________________________________________________________________

~What Moxxie Thinks Of You~

He’s 4 rn-

-HE LOVES YOU!!

-your his sister why wouldn’t he- ?

-your basically his partner in crime 😈 both of you steal treats from the kitchen when your not supposed to 😤👍

-if the Mom found you 2 being naughty then sorry to tell you but yer’ both getting a time out 😔

-…BUT IF CRIMSON FOUND YOU- yuh that’s somehow gonna become a family issue problemo 😶💦______________________________________________________________________

I sometimes forget writing is for fun- but I certainly had fun writing this 😎 now I’m gonna tag this in some tags that this doesn’t even relate to which will make everyone hate me but they will soon worship me after reading this masterpiece. Praise this shit rn *points gun at you*

[avatar-anna]

Professor celebrating Harry’s birthday would he so cute 🥹

a little late, but that’s kinda how i do things! enjoy!!

The Professor Series

“I miss you so much, H. I wish I could be there.”

“I understand. Duty calls, right?” Harry said. He was smiling through the camera, but you could tell he was more upset than he was letting on.

You brought your phone closer to your face and smiled brightly. “I know you’re going to have the bestest birthday ever.”

“‘Bestest?’” he asked with a furrowed brow. “You never use fake words. What’s going on with you? What are you hiding?”

“Nothing. I’m trying to be more colloquial, that’s all.”

Harry looked suspicious, but you kept on smiling, hoping he would buy it. Sometimes if you acted odd enough, he just let it go. You had your quirks, and Harry knew to just roll with them by now.

“O...Kay. How long before your next lecture?”

“Attention passengers. We are beginning our descent. Please prepare for landing.”

Confused, Harry peered closer into the camera, as if he could peer past your head, but you were so close to the camera for a reason. “Landing? Love, what are you—”

“Gotta go!” you blurted, then hung up the phone.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.

Harry ❤️: I can’t believe you’re hiding from me.

Harry ❤️: I know you’re here, Y/n. What’s the point in dragging this on?

Harry ❤️: And on my birthday? Harsh, love.

Your phone wouldn’t stop pinging. You knew once that message in the plane sounded, the jig was up. Still, you wandered around downtown Palm Springs with your rolling suitcase, ignoring Harry.

The urge to go straight to the house he was staying out was nearly impossible to ignore, and he had a point. He already knew you were here. Why pretend like he didn’t.

Because the plan is still a surprise, you reminded yourself. It wasn’t just that you were making a surprise visit to Palm Springs, you had a whole plan laid out that involved a cake, a pink sparkly suit, and a very nerve-wracking appearance onstage tonight.

Onstage. It was almost as stomach-twisting as baking a cake from scratch. You cooked the whole thing up with Harry’s band and manager. You were going to present a birthday cake to Harry at his show tonight in an outfit that matched Harry’s. It was definitely out of your comfort zone, but you were excited to do it for him.

Only you ruined the surprise before you even landed in California.

Checking your watch, you realized it was time to head to the arena. Pauli was going to sneak you in so you could bake in the kitchen the tour catering team used. Only now you had to be extremely careful because Harry was definitely going to be looking out for you.

Later that evening, you were frosting the last touches on the cake. From your phone updates, Harry was taking his ritual ice bath. Setting your phone down, you picked up your icing bag and went back to work piping letters onto the top of the cake.

“Aww, is that for me?”

You shrieked and jumped in the air. Turning towards the door, Harry was standing there, a towel wrapped around his waist. His arms were crossed and his brows were raised, but as he came closer, you stopped him.

“No!” You ducked down behind the kitchen island, out of sight.

“Y/n, what are you—”

“This was supposed to be a surprise!” you groaned.

“Well, excuse me for wanting to see my girlfriend on my birthday,” Harry joked. You heard Harry step closer to you, but you didn’t straighten up. “Y/n, darling, stand up please.”

“No. If you go now, I can still surprise you.”

“Nope, that’s it.”

Arms were around you and lifting you to your feet, and then you were face to face with Harry. He was smiling at you, definitely smug at finally finding you. At least he wasn’t upset about you avoiding him all day.

Sighing, you leaned against his shoulder. “Happy birthday.”

Harry’s chest rose and fell from his chuckle. “Don’t sound too excited.”

“I’m sorry. I just really wanted this surprise to be, you know, a surprise.”

Tipping your chin up, Harry kissed you on the forehead. “I’m sorry. If you give me a kiss right now, I’ll pretend this never happened.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Course,” he said. “You just got to make it the best kiss ever. You did avoid me half the day.”

You ran a hand up his chest, smiling at your failure of a surprise. You’d been excited to do something special for Harry. It felt like he was always going out of his way for you.

But the night was still young. You tasted the cake beforehand, and it actually turned out delicious, Harry didn’t know you were going to be onstage, and you were together. Above all else, you were together.

Gripping the back of his hair you kissed him. Harry hummed with pleasure, the way he always did when you took initiative. His hands gripped your waist appreciatively. "Happy you're here, darling," he mumbled. "Best birthday ever."

"Not yet," you said, kissing him one more time. "Now go and wait patiently for your surprise."

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

"Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you..."

This was your queue to step onstage to present the cake. It was in your hands, not-so-expertly decorated, and the two and nine candles were lit. All you had to do was walk across the stage and bring it to Harry, to Pauli if you wanted to make a quick getaway.

Except you weren't moving.

Part of building up your courage to walk out into a full arena was simply not thinking about it. Now that the time had come, you were terrified.

"Happy birthday dear Harry..."

Well, it was now or never. Hesitantly, you walked out as the crowd finished the song. Sarah gave you a thumbs-up as you walked carefully to where Harry was standing next to Pauli. Your boyfriend's back was to you, Pauli nudged his shoulder and he turned around immediately, a wide grin splitting his face.

"My love," he said softly, making sure he wasn't speaking into the mic. You could tell he saw the terror on your face, so he came closer and stepped in front of you so all you saw was him. The screams were still overwhelming, but you only saw him, which helped to take the edge off.

"This is the part where you act surprised," was all you could think of to say.

"I am. Never thought you would try to upstage me on my birthday," Harry teased. Then he winked and said, "You want to see them go absolutely insane?"

"Wh—What are you talking abou—"

Harry leaned over and kissed you on the forehead, and just as he predicted, the screams only got louder. You wanted to sink into the floor, but Harry kept murmuring words of encouragement, thanking you for the birthday surprise.

He made his wish and made a show of acting surprised to see you out here. Each minute felt like an hour, though by the end of it you would say you were only mildly uncomfortable. Harry kept an arm around you the whole time, making sure to whisper in your ear silly jokes and facts he read up on to impress you. And, "You look radiant darling, but that's not a surprise. You're always the most beautiful woman in the room."

That earned him a pinch when your face flushed, but he just laughed and kissed your cheek.

The show eventually had to continue, and you shuffled back offstage, but not before Harry dabbed a bit of frosting onto your nose. He seemed to be in higher spirits afterward. You busied yourself with cutting the cake into equal parts for everyone onstage—you made cupcakes for the crew. You danced a little as you cut the cake. Having been working, you missed the last couple shows, but you missed the energy and hearing Harry perform. When the show was playing its final chords, you grabbed a slice of cake to hand to Harry when he ran offstage. Your smile was big as he jogged toward you, partially because you were eager for him to try your cake—you were quite proud of how it turned out.

You handed the plate to him, and he took it, only to set it back on the table where the rest of the slices were. "Nope," he said, not even stopping as he hoisted you into his arms. Your legs went around his waist instinctively, even as you repeatedly told him to put you down. Harry did, but only when you were back in his dressing room and a sofa was underneath you.

"I worked really hard on that cake," you said, only partially irked that he didn't even try it.

"We'll eat it after," he said quickly.

Part of you wanted to argue, but Harry was still sweating from the show, and he was wearing one of those matching sets that he refused to wear a shirt underneath. "Promise?"

Harry kissed you, your chin between his fingers. "Promise."

He leaned in again, shedding his jacket and tossing it on the floor, but before he got to you, you paused him and said, "Happy birthday, darling. I love you."

"And I love you. You're getting a lot better at surprises too."

"Wait what?"