#oblivious idiots to still oblivious but brave idiots

[rockingrobin69]

Food for thought

“I’m so glad you came,” Potter said with that look on his face. Draco felt himself clam, go small-small-small until his nose barely cleared the line of his shoulders.

“It’s,” he tried through a too-dry mouth, “no problem, really. Happy I could help.”

“I don’t know why it keeps doing that,” scratching the back of his neck with those big Potter-hands. The grandfather clock had been in the Black house for centuries. Now it was showing the right time again, and also, conveniently, no longer throwing darts at bystanders. “I swear it was working this morning.”

“Truly, a mystery.” Draco levelled a scathing glance at Pansy, who was sitting at the counter with a far-too-neutral expression. “Pans, if you wouldn’t mind, a word?”

He dragged her out to the corridor, only barely not by the ear. She had the audacity to smile. “Everything all right, dear?”

“None of that,” in a heated whisper. “That’s the third, Pans. How many times would you break Potter’s things just to have him call me?”

“If you’d bothered calling him yourself, I wouldn’t have to.”

“Pansy Parkinson!”

“Draco Malfoy.” Examining her fingernails with an exaggerated yawn. “Are you suggesting I’m messing with my own colleague? I would never.”

He rolled his eyes so hard his head hurt. “You’re not fooling anyone. Did you forget I actually know you? Potter does too. Soon enough he’ll figure out—”

“That he simply must take you on a date? I’d hoped so, yes.” With a cheeky wink: “Got to go, my show’s about to start. We’ll catch up later, yes? Still on for drinks on Friday?” and she left, the corridor and a flushed, slightly hyperventilating Draco, alone in Potter’s place.

“Erm, Draco?” from the kitchen. “I think I might’ve made too much pasta. Stay for dinner?”

Oh, he’s going to kill that woman.

After dinner, that is.

*

“You’re a life-saver,” Potter murmured, pretty mouth hanging open. On the sofa, Seamus was smiling so smugly, Draco could punch him.

Didn’t. Stood there, made himself small and wished to be not-here, not-now. “It really was no problem. The windows should shut properly now. Have you tried,” but it was useless, he knew why the windows were jammed, and it wasn’t poor maintenance.

His ‘friends’ were just out to get him.

Suppose they thought it was funny? Suppose… Draco didn’t know. Tried to curtail his mortification at being summoned here, again, in another attempt to humiliate him.

That’s what they were doing, right? That’s what this was all about. They knew how he felt about Potter, nothing was more obvious. It was there in pub nights and on their stupid hikes and that time they all went to the beach, it was in Draco’s eyes, in his hands always reaching out, never touching.

“Thanks,” Potter said, for the third time. “You’re so… It’s really fucking kind of you to. Take care of me.”

Startled, “I don’t—it’s just your windows, Potter. There’s no reason to get all sentimental.”

A loud noise: Seamus, snorting. “You boys are such a mess.” Shaking his head. “Anyway, this was fun. See you two Saturday!” and he disappeared, cartoon-quickly.

(Draco’s been watching cartoons recently. Mostly with Potter, late at night after their friends would leave; sometimes by himself, wearing the jumper he’d stolen and feeling rather pathetic).

“Are you by any chance hungry?” Potter asked from a surprisingly-short distance. He was right there, close enough to touch. Tittering on his tip-toes, like he had any reason to be nervous. “It’s only, I’ve ordered far too much food, and Seamus just. Erm. Left.”

Draco folded inwards, made himself as small as possible, so it won’t start leaking out, all this… foolishness. It was stupid. It would break his heart.

He stayed anyway.

*

“Thank you so much,” Potter rubbed his eyes, this half-grin on his awful, handsome face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with this house. I think it hates me.”

“I think someone does,” with a murderous look to Ginevra, who not only smirked, but also made a point of coming to see for herself. The cooker had stopped frying everything to a crisp, and should be safe to use again. Big whoop.

“That’s some quick spellwork,” she hit his shoulder far too hard. “Didn’t know you were so good with these.”

“Really,” incredulous. “You didn’t know.”

“And how lucky, that Malfoy could come over so quickly?” she looked between Potter and him. “Maybe you should move in. Easier for the next time something bends out of shape.”

Draco didn’t splutter, because he was an adult, but he must have looked rather pinched. “There won’t be a next time.”

“I’m so sorry,” Potter sounded miserable, standing there in his too-tight Quidditch top and those joggers that always rode too low, “god, Draco, I’m sorry I—”

“No!” he cleared his throat, had no hope of clearing his face of that awful, telling blush. “No, it’s absolutely fine. I don’t mind! I meant, I hope your things stop breaking all the time for no reason.”

“Oh. Don’t worry about it. I, erm, accidentally made too much curry, so—Gin, you were saying you can’t stay?”

Draco’s belly made a terrible gurgle. Oh, he’s going to kill all of them. Closing his eyes, he missed some of the encounter, and probably an evil grin from Ginevra.

“Draco?” Potter came closer, and he smelled like lemongrass and thyme, and like Potter, and like summer, “Would, erm, would you like to stay for dinner?”

Why were the gods testing him this way? He tried to go small-small-small till he wasn’t noticeable anymore, but Potter was too close and Draco’s heart was crushed open. The weight of his want, which had to be so clear on his face, this absolute agony. And nothing he could say but, “Yes, yes,” and hide behind his fingers, and endure it.

The worst part was, Potter was a great cook.

No: the worst was at the end of the night, when he kissed his cheek so, so gently.

Draco went home, and buried himself in his duvet, and swore to never play the fool in these games anymore.

*

“This is so embarrassing,” Potter announced into his hands, “I don’t know what happened, it just. Won’t quit it.”

His shower curtains were singing. Non-stop.

“I,” Draco swallowed, and his ribs nearly cracked with it, “didn’t k-know you were such a… big Celestina fan.”

Couldn’t hold it in: laughing so hard he was crying, and Potter was laughing too, shoulders heaving, so bright and so wonderful Draco’s teeth ached. They both ended up on the floor, winded and flushed. Draco loved him so much it was frightening.

“I,” he almost said it out loud, covered his mouth with a hand.

“What?” Potter, laughing. He took Draco’s hand with both of his, tried to pull it away, “What, what were you going to say?”

“Nothing!” in a tiny squeak. “Potter!” when he basically climbed in his lap, still laughing, laughing.

“You have to tell me. I made your favourite biscuits, so you have to.”

“You—did?” confused and bright-red in the face, “Why? Was someone supposed to come tonight?”

Potter’s eyes were so big. “No?”

“So why did you…” Potter always had too much food not due to a lack of planning, but his heart, that huge thing. “You cook when someone comes over.”

“Yes,” Potter agreed. He was so close and so warm. Baffling.

“So who did you bake the biscuits for?” who was responsible for this evening’s prank, he meant, for this torment. Whom should he thank or perhaps curse. Potter blinked his pretty eyelashes, then one big hand came to cup Draco’s face.

“You,” he said. This tiny, shy voice. “I made them for you. I was hoping you’d come. Might have… erm… cursed the curtains a bit.”

Draco would have gasped, but Potter’s hand on his cheek. “What?”

“Well… you never come when I invite you, only when something’s broken, and I, I, wanted to see you.”

No, that didn’t clarify anything. “Why?” Draco asked, and his voice was small too.

Potter huffed something warm on his face. “Because I like you, silly. You must have noticed? Everyone else did. They’ve been driving me bonkers and… they were right. I should have just been honest with you.”

His heart was racing, raucous in his chest. “You know they’ve been playing us. The clock, the windows, the cooker, everything that went wrong, it was them.”

“Not this time,” Potter said. His mouth was so close, so red and so stupidly gorgeous. Coming even closer. “Draco, can I…”

Instead of making himself smaller, Draco went big. Chest expanding, arms sending out and reaching, touching. He kissed Potter before the stupid git could even move, and then they were snogging, wet and sloppy on the bathroom floor.

It was stupid. It was perfect. Behind them, the curtain were still humming: a cauldron full of hot, hot love…

Had to stay for biscuits, right?

For my lovely @orange-peony who gave me a brilliant prompt from this list. Hey, you could do it too!

[yuujispinkhair]

sukuna who's over heels with y/n, but y/n is stupidly in love with yuuji who is falling in love with megumi?!

Omggg I love this!!!! Thank you for sending me this 💗

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female)

Fluff. Hurt & Comfort. Friends to lovers. 2k words. Unrequited love/pining in the beginning. Sukuna and Reader get their happy end (Yuuji gets his happy end with Megumi). Mentions of cigarettes + alcohol. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear

Sukuna can only shake his head at the irony. He is in love. He is fucking in love for the first time in his life, and of course, it has to be someone he cannot have! Out of everyone at this stupid college, it has to be the girl who likes his brother!

If it were any other guy, Sukuna wouldn't give a fuck and just flirt like hell with the girl he wants and give his best to steal her away from that other guy. But the problem is that Itadori Sukuna might be an asshole, but he isn't the type of asshole that would steal his brother's girl.

So Sukuna swallows down his heartbreak and forces himself to hold back, refusing to stand in the way of his baby brother's happiness. Sukuna might only be three minutes older, but he is still the big bro, still the one who sees it as his responsibility to look after his "little" brother. And Yuuji deserves it. He deserves a girl like you. He deserves your love. Sukuna will stay strong. He can do it.

But what Sukuna didn't take into account is how completely oblivious his brother is to your feelings.

You follow Yuuji around like a lost puppy, giving him hearteyes, practically swooning anytime he smiles his sunshine smile, hanging on his lips when he talks about his movie-directing classes and his new favorite TV show. But Yuuji doesn't seem to notice. And it makes Sukuna so mad! It drives him crazy! He almost spits his drink out when his brother gives you a high five and calls you "bro".

Sukuna feels sick to his stomach when he watches you wring your hands and shyly ask Yuuji if he maybe wants to go to the cinema with you to see the newest Human Earthworm movie. That super trashy horror series that Yuuji is always gushing about, which Sukuna is 99% sure you don't really like but only want to endure for the boy you have a big crush on.

But Sukuna's oblivious idiot of a brother just laughs and nods, happy that someone shares his taste, and totally misses the point,

"Yes, that's perfect! Let's also ask Megumi and Nobara to join us! Let's all go together! It will be so much fun!"

Sukuna thinks he can not only feel his own heart ache but also yours as he sees your face fall even while you force yourself to nod bravely and smile a sad smile at Yuuji.

It takes everything in Sukuna not to say something. But his restraint only lasts until he is alone with his brother. The moment the others have left, he shoves Yuuji into the wall, grabs his collar, and growls at him,

"You are so fucking dumb, brat! I would give anything to be in your shoes, but you don't even see that she wants you!"

And Yuuji blinks at him, all big eyes and completely confused,

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Sukuna lets go of Yuuji, slumping against the wall next to him, sighing and explaining the situation to him. How Sukuna likes you, and how you like Yuuji, and how everything is such a mess, and how much he hates it, especially when his little brother is too blind to see what he could have!

"Now you know, brat. Go, get her. Just don't rub it in my face, ok? I'll stay away as much as possible."

Sukuna pushes himself off the wall, about to run away and hide in some dark corner or maybe find someone to fuck and distract him from all this shit. But to his utter surprise, Yuuji's hand darts out and grabs Sukuna's sleeve.

"Wait, Kuna! I don't even have those kinds of feelings for her! There is... um... well, there is actually someone else I like."

He stands there, scratching his neck, looking sheepishly at Sukuna and blushing a bit as Sukuna stares at him with question marks in his eyes.

"Who??"

"Um, he has black hair and likes dogs and... ah shit."

And Sukuna can't help it. He bursts out laughing, doubling over because this is just so fucking dumb and messy and getting more complicated every second, and he probably should have known!

"Damn, brat, that really sounds like you! Falling for your best friend!"

In the end, Sukuna plays matchmaker for Yuuji and Megumi. It's easy, considering the way Fushiguro has been looking at Yuuji since the first day he met him. And yeah, Sukuna is not only doing it because he loves his baby brother but also because of selfish reasons. Because it means you will have to let go of your crush on Yuuji. Not that Sukuna thinks you will turn to him, but at least he won't have to watch you date his brother and pretend he doesn't care!

It feels like someone is stabbing Sukuna's heart when he watches your face twist in pain at the next party when you see Yuuji walking into the room with Megumi's hand in his.

But it will be fine! After all, Sukuna is here to catch you and mend your broken heart again. As a friend, at least.

He quickly follows you when you leave the room and run towards the backyard. You sit down on the slightly damp grass, and Sukuna joins you, sitting silently next to you while tears run down your cheeks. Sukuna offers you his half-smoked cigarette, and when your eyes meet, he can't help but think that surely you must see the pain in his eyes, too.

He quickly takes a sip from the bottle he is holding to hide the emotions threatening to swallow him while silently cursing himself for following you out here. He misjudged how fucking hard it is to look at you when you are crying. If only Sukuna could just close the distance between you and claim you as his, just kiss all your pain and his pain away.

But of course, he knows it would be too soon. For once in his life, Sukuna doesn't just want to be a one-night stand or a rebound or a revenge fuck or whatever. For once in his life, he wants more. He wants everything.

And so Sukuna is patient. Just offers you his silent company, his cigarette, his bottle of vodka, and his leather jacket when it gets chilly, and you start to shiver. He offers you his friendship, his protection, and the kind of comfort he can give without fucking you. He drives you home, makes sure you have something to eat and get some sleep.

He bangs on your door three days later when you still haven't come back to campus, calling you a brat and an idiot because it's the only way he knows how to show his worry. But he hopes he's making it better by shoving a vanilla latte and a bag with muffins from your favorite coffee shop into your hands.

Your eyes look puffy from crying, and you seem confused about what he is doing here, but you take the food and coffee from him. And Sukuna smirks at you and refuses to leave when you tell him you look like hell and don't want him to see you like that.

"I don't care, princess. Eat those damn muffins and drink your latte before it gets cold. I didn't stand in line for half an hour for you to just ignore my treats. And by the way, you always look pretty to me."

He stays until you had breakfast and took a shower, coming back to the living area with a soft,

"Thank you, Sukuna. It was nice of you to bring me muffins and coffee."

Sukuna finally leaves, lifting one tattooed hand to casually wave at you as if his heart isn't about to burst because he wants to pull you against his chest and hold you and tell you he can make you happy again.

He skips some of his classes and instead goes to the gym, working out like a madman and beating up a punching bag until he is too exhausted to think about how sad you looked and how fucking much he wants to kiss it better.

He comes back the next day to pick you up and take you to the coffee shop with him, making sure you leave the house and join the living again! It cannot be that you are crying your eyes out in your room all day!

"Stop complaining and get your bratty ass off the couch! It will be good for you to get some fresh air and shit. I am warning you if you don't put on shoes in the next 30 seconds, I will make you walk to the coffee shop in socks!"

Oh yes, Sukuna is good at this. Acting grumpy and playing the asshole while taking care of you and making sure you are ok. And somehow, you are the only one, apart from his brother, who can see right through him because you roll your eyes and laugh softly and tell him that he is the nicest asshole you have ever met.

The two of you fall into a routine where Sukuna picks you up every morning and has breakfast with you before he walks you to your first class. You constantly grow closer, and Sukuna feels his mask slipping more often around you. His typical arrogant smirk softens into a genuine smile. His snide comments turn into compliments. He isn't sure if he is doing it by accident or intentionally. Maybe he is only reacting to the way you act around him.

Because your gaze doesn't follow his brother anymore. Your face doesn't fall when you see Yuuji with Megumi. Your smile doesn't falter when you spot pink hair and realize it's the bad boy twin with the tattoos and not the good boy twin with the sunshine smile. Sukuna even feels like your smile is growing brighter when you look at him.

Could it be?

And he notices more things. Notices how you always sit so close to him now when he is at your dorm and you play video games against each other. How you always laugh at his jokes, no matter how sarcastic they are. Or how you look at him sometimes when you think he doesn't realize it. How your eyes get that dreamy little sparkle when Sukuna is sleepy, and his voice gets low and a bit raspy. How you get goosebumps on your arms when Sukuna puts his hands on your hips to steer you through a crowded room.

A few weeks later, Sukuna finds himself back at the same spot where all those weeks ago, it all began. Sitting next to you in the grass in the small backyard of your friend's dorm, where you cried when Yuuji broke your heart.

But tonight, you aren't crying. Tonight, you are smiling and throwing your head back, laughing at some dry joke Sukuna makes, looking so carefree and happy. Your shoulder is brushing against Sukuna's biceps, and your hand lands on his thigh, giving it a playful smack and staying just a little too long. And Sukuna can't help but say in that low voice, you seem to like so much,

"You are so beautiful."

For a split second, he feels his chest tense up, scared that he fucked everything up. Scared that he got it wrong and you still want his brother. Or maybe some other guy. Scared that you only see Sukuna as a good friend. Or that you only see him the way the whole campus sees him: as that sexy, asshole guy who is only good for casual sex and nothing more.

But then you turn your head to look at him, and Sukuna sees that soft expression in your eyes, the one he used to see on your face when you looked at his brother. But now it is for him, for Sukuna. And he simply knows without you having to spell it out. He knows that things have truly changed.

So, Sukuna decides to do what he wanted to do for a long time.

"I am sorry that you cried the last time we were in this backyard. But I am not sorry for why it happened. My brother is an idiot for not wanting you like that. But I am glad he is an idiot because otherwise, I wouldn't be able to do this..."

And Sukuna puts a hand under your chin, cupping it with a gentleness he didn't know he possessed while looking deeply into your eyes, checking one last time if he really got it right. You look at him with wide eyes, but you smile and nod softly as your gaze travels down to his lips.

And Sukuna sighs and presses his lips gently against yours, kissing you like he never kissed someone before, slow and gentle, as if he is scared you will break or slip through his fingers. A kiss with his eyes closed and his chest filling with a warmth he didn't know until now. A kiss into which Sukuna pours all the secret longing he felt for you for months, all the feelings he tried to hold back for his brother's sake and then for the sake of not fucking things up.

But finally, he doesn't have to hold back anymore. Because you chose him. You chose Sukuna. You are sitting here with him, with your hand in his hair and your lips moving slowly against his, a happy sigh and a soft murmur of his name falling from your lips.

The two of you only stop kissing when Sukuna's head is already spinning from the lack of oxygen. He pulls away only enough to grin at you and stroke your cheek with his thumb. And you smile back at him and whisper,

"I am glad, too, that Yuuji turned me down. Because otherwise I wouldn't have found out that it's his brother who is my perfect match. I wouldn't have found out that you, Itadori Sukuna, are the one I like the most out of everyone."

AAAHHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭😭 Thank you so much for sending me this ask. I see Sukuna + unrequited love/pining and I lose my mind!! It's my weakness and makes me so so soft for him (even more than usual).

I hope you liked this little hurt/comfort story!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[w4dows]

thinkin' about jealous! natasha

natasha romanoff x fem! reader

natasha romanoff was either the most infuriating or oblivious person in the world.

you guys weren't official, by any means; hell, you guys hadn't even kissed. but it was common knowledge that you were natasha's, as she was yours.

the standoff-ish redhead had a soft spot for you & you only, and you took pride in that.

which is why when the redhead saw you getting flirted with during one of tony stark's parties, no less by some stupid agent that she trained, she was pissed - well "minorly ticked off."

she couldn't help but glower as she watched you take a seat at the bar, watching them flirt with you - or try to. she glared as they tried to woo you their rank and big muscles - "that really weren't that big," she thought bitterly, her jaw clenched, and her grip on her whiskey glass tightening. natasha smirked at the knowledge that her muscles were definitely bigger, and that she could definitely put on a better show than some low-ranking agent, especially for you.

her grip on her whiskey glass impossibly tightens, the auburn-gold liquor swishing around as she sees you laugh at a joke that idiot made; she was sure she could make you laugh much harder. so she does.

she walks over to the bar, downing the rest of her liquor, leaning over the bar, her body brushing against yours as she orders a refill, and you tense, the only thing you can focus on is her toned body against yours.

"oh hey sweetheart," she drawls, the nickname slipping off her tongue easily as she death-glares the agent - who very quickly gets the memo and slinks away.

"hey nat! this is-," you turn back to the other agent, and you see them sulking in the corner. you look back at natasha, and you can see a hint of smugness in her eyes - her stupid, beautiful, green eyes, and suddenly it all makes sense; natasha was jealous.

"you jealous?" you teased, unable to hide the grin at the thought of stone-cold natasha being jealous, being jealous over you

"oh please," she huffs before continuing, "why would i be jealous?"

"aw nat! you're so jealous!" you can't help but tease the aloof assassin, enjoying the way her face grimaces.

"i am not jealous." she mutters, scowling.

"for a spy, you sure are horrible at lying," you tease, your eyes sparkling with amusement, and affection that was purely for natsha. "y'know i'm yours right?" you murmur, cocking your head slight and enjoying the light pink that covered her cheeks and the tips of her ears.

"say it again," she rasps, and suddenly you can't remember how to form a coherent sentence, ridiculously aware of how close your lips are to hers - so close that you could feel the heat of her breath mingling with yours. your eyes flit down to her lips - her plump, perfect lips, tinged with faded lipstick - you couldn't help but wonder how soft they'd be against yours.

"i said, say it again, sweetheart," she all but purrs, and you're sure she can hear the thump-thump of your heart as you gulp. you bravely flick your eyes up towards her bewitching green eyes, and suddenly you've lost your breath again. you can see a glint of amusement in her eyes as she roams her eyes over your face.

"said 'm yours natasha, all yours," you manage to get out, and you can see the way her lips quirk up. fuck it.

before she can open her mouth to make a witty quip, you press your lips onto hers.

they were somehow softer than you thought they'd be.

--

bonus:

"i still can't believe you were jealous," you murmur, breathless from natasha's kisses, your lips slightly swollen and bruised.

"oh yeah?" she husks, and god do you love her voice

her lips latch onto your neck before she continues, "want me to show you just how jealous i can be, sweet thing?" 

[sukunas-wife]

YOU NEED TO MAKE MORE DAD!SUKUNA😭 It’s just soo good!!!, I’m literally obsessed with Dad!sukuna🫶🏻

lol here’s a little snippet to start the day, in other words I had a domestic dream 🥺🤍

Jujutsu Teacher Sukuna AU

Somewhere in another time line Sukuna became a not so dedicated teacher at Jujutsu high school still after having turned himself into a curse, even 1000 years he landed a spot on the higher up’s board it hilarious when they try to execute someone and he completely disagrees.

They learned quickly is Sukuna disapproves of their actions agree with arrimen Sukuna. Don’t go behind his back and try to do it either. He’s not afraid to kill everyone and replace the entire board of Higher Ups

Then one year he met you, you came in from the sister school to be teacher. Usually he tried not to mess with staff they only last so long anyways. But maybe it was that time he saw you banging your head in the drink machine because you used your last bills to buy a drink and it got stuck. Or maybe it was that time Gojo and Toji surprisingly decided to team up against you and you managed to hold your own.

It was when YOU started to pursUE HIM he became really intrigued. At first he became annoyed because not to far behind the corner he could hear the snickering and “Oh she’s really doing it!” “She’s a brave woman to try and flirt with him…” “What are you idiots do- oh, this could be interesting.” “shhh, I can’t hear what he’s saying!”

You didn’t notice when he flicked his wrist, but you did hear your coworkers panic and the rushed steps. Looking back confused you were more confused when you looked back at Sukuna and he was leaning forward getting face to face with you before squishing your face in one of his hands. “You do understand you proud Jujutsu Sorcerers don’t live very long, so give me one good reason you want my attention.”

You wanted to badly to look away from those demanding red eyes, to pull away and breath the God given air, instead here you were getting dazed off his musk and cologne. Feeling his warm hand squish your face, nails lightly pressing against your skin. Smash- swallowing you had one chance to do this right. Don’t stutter, don’t fear, breath, don’t rush, don’t show him WEAKNESS.

“I J- ahem” ah.. I messed up already, “Wait let me restart- Okay I’m ready, I’m not gonna stand here and promise happiness smiles and endless love, praise and worship. I’m not gonna lie to your face and tell you everything you want to hear and pretend it’s all sunshine and rainbows. When I go on a mission I’m not gonna say I promise to always come back that would be a fools move. But at least in my last moments I’d have to privilege to remember you and all those wise words you used to tell me like. “Dumbass that’s why you keep more than two dollars in your wallet.” Or “Living to please others and dying with regrets if no helping everyone is vain, Live to please yourself at least in your final moments you’ll have some sense of fulfillment.” So like it or not I’m here to please myself if you say No and tell me to fuck off and send me on my way. I won’t regret having asking. If you say yes, well I won’t lie I wouldn’t really know what to do or say I came in expected to be rejected and humbled.” Finally your eyes left his, you were oblivious to stare he had. He wasn’t completely amused but he wasn’t bored of your words either. “Look at me.” You did, “you didn’t bore me entirely with your little … speech so I’ll give you one opportunity. Sunday, I have an early mission, meet me here at 4 in the morning and I’ll tell you with me. After I finish you can have the rest of my day or until I get bored.”

He didn’t get bored… it turned out you amused him so much more when you weren’t surrounded be suits.

And that’s how you ended up here.

“Yuji don’t say something stupid love can’t protect anyone.” Nobara rolled her eyes, “Yuh huh, your words can’t hurt me because my mom and dad’s love protects me.” He puffed his chest out crossing his arms and smiling with closed eyes, missing the book Nobara was throwing at him. A solid sound was made, Yuji was wide eyed, the all to familiar wrist holding the heavy book just in front of his face, “Careful Miss.Kugisaki it’d be a shame if you caught extra missions for disabling another student from completing his own.” Yuji smiled proudly, “See, protected.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, “Get to class Fushiguro was on your ass last time for being late to class.” He nodded his head at Yuji who just smiled sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, “Alright.” Of course the Trio ran past you greeting you with “Hi Mrs.Sukuna!” Good morning Mom!” “Morning Y/n Senpai.” You watched them all keep running until your husband stood next to you offering you the Coffee Cup he had been drinking. You were distracted by one thing “Why do you have our photo album?” Sukuna felt his eye twitch, “Damn brat.” Was all he mumbled tucking it under his shoulder, “Your son believes your love protects him.”

You laughed, “OUR son believes OUR love for him protects him. Considering your holding that book Im assuming Kugisaki tried to throw it at him or you were reminiscing on that time you had to save them from a Special Grade ambush and when you had to carry them all out Yuji was sniffling how he knew he could count on you to be there for him.”

He looked away, “Higher ups are lucky I only wiped out half of them.” You rested your head on his shoulder pulling the album from him. “Aaww this is Yuji’s baby album” you cooed seeing the picture of Sukuna holding Yuji next to a bouquet of “It’s a Boy!” Balloons. In the background you could see the blur of Geto smacking Gojo on the back of the head.

Sukuna is secure as a man and father 🥹

So it’s not a surprise to you when you come home late from the school and find true form Sukuna threatening to break the sofa under his weight coddling 15yo Yuji 🥹

As much of a brute people have him to be, Yuji might be his only son, and he might call him brat and roll his eyes a lot. But he’d be damned if he were truly a bad dad. In a whispered conversation he told you about everything that happened on Yuji’s mission. How the mission was purposely miss graded and they basically walked into a special grade curses domain. Sukuna had no doubt in his mind that if wouldn’t have been the one over seeing their mission the first years wouldn’t have walked back out alive.

Yuji was alright the entire ride but when he got home he broke down crying, speechless gasping for air. That’s when Sukuna pick him up carrying him over the sofa, coddling Yuji wasn’t as easy now that they were almost the same height, so he turned to his true form. And let Yuji cry, scream and hold onto him. Rubbing his back, holding his head against his shoulder, just talking to him to comfort him. “Do you remember that time we went to the park, and you wondered off to far chasing a duck.” Yuji nodded still sniffling, “Your mom was scared shitless when she couldn’t find you.” He laughed and Yuji laughed lightly, “y.. yeah I remember I jumped into the pond and then you and mom started screaming and then jumped in…” sukuna laughed louder, “Y/n was so mad but she couldn’t stay mad when she saw you with that little duck.” He patted Yuji’s back resting his chin on his head. Soon Yuji fell asleep.

It led you to find him this state. You asked him to go lay him in his bed, he did. He came to help you make some comfort food, it was hilarious when you asked if he could use dismantle on vegetables and it turned out he could. Now over the table in the wall is a sign that says “Malevolent Kitchen.”

The house that night was filled with the soft sounds of cooking, you and your husband talking about whatever came to mind. The Golden pot boiling with whatever broth you made. Sukuna was fighting the rice cooker while you tempura fried some shrimp and rolled some noodles to cook

It was well past 9 when you heard Yuji coming, both of you turning to see him walking yawning and rubbing his eyes. Bare feet padding along the kitchen floor. “Come sit down Yu you gotta be hungry.” you fixed him a large bowl of noodles with Tempura shrimp. On the side were the massive Onigiri Sukuna had made, he even tried to use the nori stamp to put little faces on them. More often than not they have 4 little crooked eyes that looked mad but it squeezed your heart how he laughed to himself saying “Yuji’s going to love these.”

He did, you watched as he bit into it rice sticking to his face. “These are good dad what did you fill them with?” “Nitamago we forgot to pack em for lunch so.. improvise I guess.” You both sat down with Yuji talking and eating. Just enjoying the free time you had together before Sukuna would go commit another crime against the higher ups 🤍🤍

Yeah 🥹

Im here 10-1 in the morning 🤍 It took all day to type this out 😭😭

Also a lot of my co workers walked out today 🥹 it was rough

Tag List: @sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare

[idkfitememate]

Hello!! I've been here since your first creation, Boar! Creator. And I'm thinking about something.

What about Squirrel! Creator 🐿️

Like, squirrels in Genshin really have no fear, all they think about are pinecones. Many times I approached them, but they didn't run away like other animals, they just stood there, near their pinecones.

So I imagine a character who has a hat, like Mona or Venti walking in the forest and a pinecone gets stuck in their hat. Then a squirrel followed them all day, leaving them confused, not knowing why the squirrel was following them. And what the worse was that the squirrel had no fear, they even followed them into the city!

Mona Encounter

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : Gn! Squirrel Reader x Mona

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 649

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : fluff & crack

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Mmmmm big bushy tails the floofa :3

Future note: Mona has a house… not right now she don’t-

Mona was a woman of business.

Booming business?.. Admittedly no, but business nonetheless.

Spending her nights charting the stars and giving out fortunes to those brave enough to handle her sharp tongue, she was more than busy in her life, even if she was just barely getting by.

… Where does she keep all her astrology books, tools and otherwise when she has nowhere to stay? Up your ass that’s where.

One busy night of watching the stars in a forest had worn the poor girl down, and the grass was so soft, and the gently breeze that rustled the leaves was so nice and oh… she’s asleep.

So deep in sleep, she didn’t notice the pinecone that fell into her hat.

Nor did she notice the you who was perched on a branch above, salivating at the mere thought of that now slightly forbidden cone because it fell on a human, and you told yourself not to go near them, if not for self preservation than just to not interact with them.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t ever want to interact with them, it was an inane fear that something might happen so on so forth, especially since you found out that you were in SAGAU. Fuck that chance. Trees, apples and pinecones is enough for you.

But this… this chance… fuck it it was to much to bear. You jumped right on into the hat, curling around the beloved pinecone. Nothing else mattered now except the piney scent and the cold comforting darkness of this idiot’s hat.

Fuck yeah.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🎂🍩🍰୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

When morning came, Mona opened her eyes with a groan and popped her back considering the awful position she slept in. She blinked blearily as she took in the morning air. Feeling around, she grabbed her hat that had fallen off her head, not even noticing the extra weight, and plopped that sucker right on her head, somehow not even feeling your tiny little shivering feet.

Oh shit you fell asleep in her hat and now she was standing up. You sat as physically still as you could as you felt the somehow oblivious woman rose and begin walking.

The swaying motions wasn’t very nice on your stomach, ears twitching and eyes constantly moving around the space to try and find any kind of exit.

For a moment everything stopped, and your tail hitched and breath stilled. Suddenly, a hand reached up into the hat and in a panic you lightly jumped onto the fabric of the back of the hat, staring as the hand scratched the spot you once were and reach around a bit, finding the pinecone you once held and threw it out the hat, muttering some random stuff that was muffled to your ears.

After a few moments of stillness the astronomer was on the move again. And you were in her hat. Trapped. Alone.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍡🍮🍪୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

City noises were weird when you’re hearing them from inside a hat.

That was your deduction as Mona walked through what you could only assume to be Mondstadt. The hustle and bustle and overall joyfulness permeated even the fabric of the hat you were currently trapped in and made life just the slightest bit brighter, shocker.

Mona was just walking around as far as you could tell, no real destination in mind. But, you were hoping for her to stop soon, your paws hurt a little bit from their harsh grip on her hat and wanted a rest. Issue being, of course, you couldn’t rest on her because then she’d find out you were on her head for Archons knows how long.

The space you inhabited was just barely lit from the sun. The back of the hat behind you moving around due to a slight wind.

As the woman you were riding on continued further into the city, the only thing you could think was:

“Oh Fuck.”

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I was writing this years old when I found out Genshin has squirrels-

Also yes I purposely left off like that for requests/future stuff to pick up on lmao I’m sorry-

[inkspiredwriting]

Clueless

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Y/n sat on the couch, nervously biting her lip as she watched Five Hargreeves meticulously go over his latest plans on the coffee table. She had been in love with Five for a while now, but he seemed completely unaware of her feelings. She decided to be brave and make her interest a bit more obvious.

“Hey, Five,” Y/n said, trying to sound casual. “Need a break? I was thinking of making some coffee. I know how much you love it.”

Five looked up from his maps, his expression serious. “Coffee? Sure, that sounds good. Thanks, Y/n.”

Y/n smiled, though she couldn’t help but feel a little deflated. Is he really this dense, or is he just pretending? She sighed, getting up to head to the kitchen.

As Y/n brewed the coffee, she mentally prepared herself for another attempt. This time, she’d be more direct. She carefully arranged two cups on a tray and brought them back to the living room, where Five was still engrossed in his work.

She set the tray down and sat beside him, leaning in a bit closer than usual. “So, Five,” she said, her voice soft and hopefully enticing, “what’s your favorite way to relax after a long day of saving the world?”

Five glanced at her, his brow furrowed in thought. “I guess I like to read a book or have a drink. Why do you ask?”

Y/n blinked, feeling her cheeks flush. “Oh, just curious. Maybe we could... read together sometime?”

Five nodded absently, already turning back to his papers. “Sounds good, Y/n.”

Across the room, Klaus watched the exchange with growing amusement. He had a sixth sense for these things, and it was clear as day that Y/n was head over heels for Five. What was also clear was that Five, brilliant as he was, had the emotional awareness of a brick.

Klaus decided it was time to intervene. He sauntered over, plopping down next to Five and flashing Y/n a conspiratorial grin.

“Hey, Five,” Klaus began, his tone light and teasing, “have you noticed how Y/n is looking at you? You know, like she’s... interested?”

Five looked up, puzzled. “Interested? In what?”

Y/n’s eyes widened in horror as she tried to signal Klaus to shut up, but he ignored her.

“In you, you dummy!” Klaus said, giving Five a light shove. “She’s been flirting with you for the past week, and you haven’t noticed?”

Five stared at Klaus, then at Y/n, then back at Klaus. “Flirting? With me?”

Y/n wanted to crawl under the couch and disappear. “Klaus!” she hissed. “Maybe you could be a little less obvious?”

Klaus shrugged, unrepentant. “Hey, someone had to spell it out for him. He’s not exactly Mr. Romantic.”

Five, now looking at Y/n with a mixture of confusion and dawning realization, finally put the pieces together. “Wait, you’re saying Y/n... you like me? Like, likes me likes me?”

Y/n’s face was crimson. She stared down at her hands, feeling like she might burst from embarrassment. “Well, yeah,” she mumbled. “I’ve been trying to show you, but you’re kind of... oblivious.”

Five blinked, his mind racing. He replayed all their recent interactions in his head and finally saw what had been right in front of him. Y/n’s subtle touches, her lingering looks, the way she tried to be close to him. It all made sense now.

A slow smile spread across his face. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

Klaus snorted. “You think?”

Y/n finally dared to look up, her heart pounding. “So... now that you know, what do you think?”

Five leaned in closer, his eyes warm and a little mischievous. “I think,” he said softly, “that I’ve been incredibly blind. And that I’d like to spend a lot more time with you, if you’ll let me.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. “Really?”

“Really,” Five said, reaching out to take her hand. “I might need some help, though. Klaus is right; I’m not exactly a romantic.”

Klaus beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of tips. Step one: stop being so dense.”

Y/n laughed, squeezing Five’s hand. “I think I can manage that.”

Five smiled, his gaze locked on Y/n’s. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out together.”

Over the next few days, Five made a concerted effort to be more aware of his feelings and how to express them. He and Y/n went on a few dates—awkward at first but sweet and full of potential. Klaus, true to his word, offered unsolicited advice, most of which involved more flair than either Five or Y/n could handle.

One evening, as they sat on the couch in the living room, Y/n snuggled up against Five, feeling content and happy. Five wrapped an arm around her, looking more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.

“You know,” Five said, his voice thoughtful, “I’m really glad Klaus decided to butt in.”

Y/n chuckled, nuzzling closer. “Yeah, me too. Who would have thought?”

Five leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Here’s to figuring out this whole romance thing. Together.”

Y/n smiled, closing her eyes as she savored the moment. “Together,” she echoed, feeling a warmth in her heart that she knew would be there for a long, long time.

[bruciemilf]

Peter B needs a Harry, so have some Parksborn headcanons:

Dumbass bi men who never realized they were dating

Harry had a crush since they met and Peter was so oblivious

They had a "fallout" (break-up) after Peter and MJ divorced, but Harry secretly paid Peter's rent and bought the DB so Peter could keep his job

Harry has a spare key to Peter's apartment (and they were ROOMATES) and cleans up for him sometimes. Peter cries when he finds out

Harry totally knows Peter is Spider-Man. "I mean, he's heroic, brave, kind, funny, and the world's biggest idiot. Who else would it be?"

Miles, Gwen, and Pav meet Harry for the first time and almost lose it. " Uh, all due respect, that's the most beautiful man I've ever seen in my life how are you friends. Can he adopt us?

Parent the hell out of the spiderlings. "Okay fine, but don't tell Harry" "Just wait till I tell Peter about this"

Harry: well, you know, he didn't invite me to his wedding, so--

Peter calls Harry 'angel' 1000% thanks bye. Harry calls him Petey ofc. (Peter hates it. He secretly loves it)

Harry still has hoodies that hang off his shoulders most of the time, that smell of pepperoni pizza and tears

Peter is the embodiment of the "saw my roommate kiss guys, am I homophobic?" Reddit Guy

Harry crocheted Mayday's little hat

Ik the classic formula is that Norman wants Peter as a son while constantly undermining Harry, and I want to keep that tension, but

Peter and Norman hating the fuck out of eachother is so goddamn funny to me. Especially if the childhood best friend aspects comes in

Norman is out here beefing with Peter B's 6 year old self and Harry is planning their lego wedding

Probably tried adopting Peter just so he won't be able to marry Harry. "Here's 300$ to stop being friends with my son." "Save that money for our wedding."

Peter has a photo album with just Harry. From age 4 to 30. A collection of polaroids he sleeps with under the pillow like the sap he is

[firefirefruit]

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: One

Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter One: What Happens When a Swordsman Meets a Swordsmith? 

GIF by gildedmuse

Behind the Wall

Zoro notes that the trek up into the forest with Gramps is oddly silent, as his boots clumsily crush against the leafy meadow. Between the two, no words of small talk are being shared or expressed – which is surprising and also a breath of fresh air to Zoro, since it seems he can’t get away from people who love to yap. 

He was also secretly thankful that he was being guided to the swordsmith rather than having to put his listening comprehension skills to the test, with how – and he wholeheartedly believes this - villagers always give him the most confusing roundabout directions (really, it’s just them telling him to turn left). 

So, as he lags behind the dagger-swinging Gramps, he realises that this has been the first time in months that he’s felt at peace without having to sleep for it. 

After what seems like an hour of silent ambling, Gramps looks behind himself at the samurai and childishly beams. 

“We’re almost there, celery-boy.”

“Gotcha, dusty puffball,” Zoro retorts.

“I must warn you… you should be prepared for the swordsmith. She does not like to sugar-coat things.” 

Zoro remains silent; at first, he mulls over his words before deciding to shrug it off. It’s not like any of the swordsmiths he’s met are legendary, so really, why would her opinion matter?

As they near a mountainous cliffy terrain, Gramps stands ahead of a narrow gap between two rumbling boulders. His hands deftly stroke across a specific gap with obnoxious hand movements, which Zoro thinks he’s undoubtedly making up on the spot. Still, as the old man moves away from the caress, the rocks begin to shuffle and grumble lowly. The boulders twist and turn, jagged and crumbling, into forming an irregular cave-like hole. 

When the cave stops echoing its aroused yawn against its walls, the merchant turns around to stick his tongue at Zoro.

“You thought I was an insane old senile for a second, didn’t you?” 

Slowly, Zoro’s ears turn red.

“You did, didn’t you? You followed me here because you felt bad for me, didn’t you?” 

“Leave it alone,” Zoro sighs, feeling the heat continue to rush over the rest of his face. 

He quickly shuffles through the entrance before he can give the geezer another chance to holler at his idiocy. It didn’t stop the dusty puffball, though – as they both continue their journey within the dimly lit cave, Zoro can hear the old cackles that echoed off the jagged walls.

“Wait until you meet her, you’ll be lit up in flames!” He giggles deviously, pleased with his successful torment with the bull-head.

“I don’t give a shit about what anyone thinks,” Zoro mutters, remaining tight-lipped for the rest of the journey. 

Over the Wall

“Go find a transponder snail right bloody now - I’m not dealing with him,” you hiss at your Gramps, who stares at you almost as dumbly as the green sword wielder standing beside him.

“What are you talking about?” Gramps Suki splutters, acting oblivious as he���s always been with you. “Give him a chance, he’s a good kid!”

“No,” you hiss, ignoring the green-head standing stoically in front of your anvil, putting your palm up at Gramps. “Call the Navy Protection Services right now, he’s a disgrace to his swords.”

“Do you want a fight with me, woman?!” The idiot swordsman yells, clawing clumsily for the weapons at his hip.

Unprovoked, you hit him with a deadpan look to the side. God, how many careless swordsmen have you dealt with who all act the bloody same?

“That’s brave, asking to fight the one person who knows how to make and break a blade.” 

In an instant, green-head starts shouting out a string of insults like a moron. 

Although small and frail in appearance, you know Gramps Suki is more than what he chooses to show to people. In a swift manoeuvre, his knobbly hands grip the guy by the collar, making the samurai look like a wretched cat dragged by its neck.

“Get your hands off me, dumbass!” The swordsman chokes, squirming and struggling against the strength of your Gramps. Ignoring him entirely, Gramps stares at you with bewilderment and slight humour.

“What?” You ask him, casually heading to the back of the room to wash your hands. 

“We aren’t pro-Navy, Raya, or have you hit your head on the anvil again?”

“You’ve hit your head on the anvil before?” A gruff voice snickers in Gramps’ vice grip, making you grit your teeth hard.

“Someone needs to call child protection services on those poor swords,” you loudly announce, shutting the green-head up from his evil grin. 

You turn around to rest against the sink, drying your hands with a blackened rag. 

“I can quite literally feel how broken they are in their sheaths, and I’m stood all the way here. Don’t you respect your blades, Mr. Samurai, or do you like to use them as big tooth-picks instead?”

And the dude, still squirming a few centimetres in the air, absolutely loses it. You can’t help but crack a laugh over how furious he’s getting as he begins to continue with his insults. You swear you hear him call you an anvil-indented-head in his string of lovely compliments.

Even Gramps can’t help but guffaw at the entire interaction between you two, completely folding over in on himself. Although still holding onto the green-head’s shirt in an abnormally strong grasp, he heartily laughs on, as if he’s holding a cloth in the air.  

Tsk. Maybe Gramps really is going senile - you think, while you dust off your blackened hammer. Out of any person in the world, you didn’t know why Sukiyaki decided to bring in this idea of a swordsman as a potential client.

You and Gramps have only worked for the best and scarcely have any, if at all, clients – simply because, for you and Gramps, swordsmithing is incredibly dangerous and quite literally life-threatening. Your whole cover can be blown up in an instant if the wrong person fucks around and finds out who you both are.

As underground swordsmiths, you intentionally work away from the hubbub of the central market to gain only the attention of the right clients. To you, this cabbage patch of a man shows absolutely no promise, evidence, or indication of worthiness to bear your craftsmanship by his side. 

This dude comes in with a crumbling sword, the sword who’s barely holding herself together in the shambled state she’s in, as well as bearing two other wobbly blades on his hip. The first time you sensed their three auras, as he and Gramps made their way towards you, your whole stomach dropped. 

Of course, you see broken swords all the time; in your profession, it’s called for – but the way that the green-head’s metals were humming – no, moaning - made you want to writhe in your own skin. You’ve never heard this level of sadness before. It completely pained you to know what the blades were thinking.  

How unfeeling he is to the forces who defend his life, time and time again. Frankly, it’s insulting. 

“Who do you think you are, anvil-head? You’re just the village’s swordsmith - a nobody,” the guy spits out, wholly absorbed in his anger. He finally manages to push himself away from Gramps’ hands and land on his feet.

“Oh, God.. not again,” Gramps mutters, shaking his head in mild displeasure. He knows what’s about to happen.

Your hands pause in the middle of buffing your hammer. 

A nobody, huh?

Your fingertips grow warm. You gaze up at the man – the first time you’ve actually acknowledged him with a look - who’s now stomping towards you, his hands balled in fists. 

As you shake your head, you feel tendrils of smoke and heat frame around your face. What a bull-head. 

“Fix my swords, woman,” he demands through gritted teeth, standing between you and your workbench. 

You sigh, unimpressed, staring straight into his eye. 

“It can’t be done.”

“Are you telling me you’re so unskilled that you can’t mend my swords?”

A smile unfurls across your lips, fire emanating from your fingertips and across the stray curls of your hair. 

You shake your head. 

“No, I’m telling you that I'm melting them. Look down.”

Gramps Suki and Bull-Head slowly tilt their vision to the floor, plainly staring at the liquid metal dripping out of all three of his sheaths. 

[tootoomanycats]

I'm so happy to be working on this short story (10 chapters)

Just Desserts is an idea I had a while back (post here), and honestly, it grew into something really beautiful. As much as I avoid it, I genuinely do enjoy writing angsty scenes. So please enjoy this teaser that I wrote while listening to this on repeat. (hits play again) K thanks I love you buh bye!

Levi forced himself up the steps to your apartment, pushing through excruciating pain in his knee as his heart pounded so violently it rattled deep in his ear drums. You wouldn't have left without saying anything. You wouldn't do that to him… unless…

Dread set in, and vision began to tunnel, darkness dancing on the edges as he started skipping steps. The cane fell out of his hands, clattering down before skirting across the ground below; it didn't matter. He had to get to your apartment; you had to be there still, and he had to apologize. Had to tell you the truth.

“FUCK!” He cried out when his left leg refused to lift, unable to clear the top step, body crumbling like a marionette on the small landing that led to the apartment door. He crawled, dragging as he gritted through the sharp pain that ricocheted each vertebra before knocking on the door from where he lay—listening for a moment, hoping to hear the shuffle of footsteps that never came.

He called your name.

No response.

“No.” He pulled himself to stand on shaking limbs, hands gripping the door for balance as he called out your name, knocking louder this time.

Silence.

“No, no, no, no.” The words came out in a hushed panic as he turned the doorknob; it was unlocked.

Just as he went to limp into the doorway, a white envelope caught his eye. Laying on the ground, staring back up at him, his name written in the delicate cursive he knew to be your handwriting. Dryness wrapped around his throat like barbed wire. Slowly sliding down against the door, he grasped the envelope and broke its wax seal. Hands shaking as the contents within were pulled out and unfolded. There were so many, many pages. Each with a different date.

“Are these…diary pages?”

October 12th.

I have never been so embarrassed. I mistook him for a child when he had been so kind to help me with my keys. To add insult to injury, he is the tea shop owner across the way. I don’t know how I’ll ever live this down.

That was the first day you met. He flipped through the more recent pages until he found a freshly torn page with no date, only his name. The ink was still fresh and smugged in certain places—small wet spots littered across, making a few letters hard to understand.

Levi,

You're right.

I’m a coward.

I’m sorry.

“Idiot,” He murmured as he held the torn pages in his hands, looking up to see that the apartment had been cleaned and what little you did have was gone. The tea plant he gifted you that once sat in the window was missing; only an imprint of where the terracotta bottom sat proved that it was once there. The cat toys that usually litter the floor were gone, as was Louie. With how little you had, it was difficult to tell if leaving was preplanned or done in haste.

Turning back to the pages in hand, he read through each entry. Dates skipped, and with the pages torn, it wasn't hard to put together that you had ripped out every entry that had to do with him.

November 11th.

He wanted to kiss me.

Fear grabbed my stomach, and like a coward, I fiend to be oblivious and went home. I wish I had been brave; why can’t I be brave? When I told Martha, I expected her to joke about it, but she just looked sad and hugged me. She told me it was okay. I didn't even know I had started crying until I was struggling to breathe.

He could hear his teeth grinding as he clenched his jaw. Every page spelled out in black and white how much you cared and how scared you were. And he had goaded you for it, shouted at you angrily when you were finally brave enough to try and tell him, as awkward as it was. "What have I done?"

Let me know in the comments if you'd like to be tagged as updates and chapters are posted! Tag List:

@l1zk4 @angelofthorr

[nanomooselet]

My Brother's Keeper (II)

As in every version of the story, Vash only plays the fool. He is not one. Oblivious, hapless and harmless are always masks he wears. From beneath them, he susses out what Wolfwood is pretty much immediately.

Not that it was hard. The man's barely trying. And really, three days into the trip to July and a guy carrying a cross from Nai's freaky book suddenly shows up, walks off the trailer slamming into him, tries to separate Vash from the reporters, lectures him about killing to survive, makes just-kidding-or-am-I remarks about being an assassin, then finally reveals he's actually carrying an absurdly overpowered laser-cross-gun before inviting himself along for their quote-unquote "protection". Nevertheless he sticks almost exclusively by Vash, who is by a very, very, very wide margin the least in need of protection among them.

Just in this scene his lighter has the Eye of Michael sigil on it and judging by the heap of butts, after picking tunnels for everyone to search (including one for him) he stayed right where he was and chain-smoked until Vash returned. Not too long afterwards Roberto abruptly and mysteriously vanishes, and Wolfwood tries to convince Vash the reporters must be dead. …Yeah, I guess that counts as subtle for someone who named himself Millions Knives, but c'mon. Knives thinks his stupid brother won't come to his party unless he's dragged there. Vash has a chaperone now whether he wants one or not.

If I were in Vash's situation I'd be quite annoyed. For fuck's sake, he's an adult. He's been one for over a century. He doesn't need a damn babysitter. And what kind of idiot sends an assassin to do that job?

Except... Knives somehow made the perfect choice in Nick.

Wolfwood's cynical rhetoric has no effect whatsoever on Vash's ideals and he's hardly any more effective at keeping Vash safe. Simply because Wolfwood's there, Zazie and Legato between them find excuses to endanger Vash, which is par for the course when Knives tries to "protect" him. No, what makes Wolfwood the best man for the job is something that may well have happened in spite of Knives, and it's this.

Regardless of his real age, at heart Nick is a kind but wounded boy who's only trying to protect his beloved family, especially his crybaby brother. He kills because he doesn't think there's any choice - he's ultimately a victim of indifferent circumstance. In a way, an innocent.

In Wolfwood Knives gave Vash everything Vash wants to believe is true of Knives himself. With all his heart, Vash wants his brother's cruelty and manipulation to be just... just some wildly misguided but sincere attempt to save the Plants, because he doesn't believe there can be any other way - but he'd be open to an alternative. Nai really does love Vash, just like Vash truly does love Nai, and Rem loved them both. His brother can't be a monster.

If he's smart and kind and strong and brave enough, if he can just overcome his fear, Vash is sure that he can help. He'd convince Nai that humanity doesn't have to die, it's just ignorance and crashing on this barren planet that made everyone's hearts so barren while they struggled to survive. They, the twins, can take responsibility for what they did and help Plants and humans to help each other. If they could do it together...

He could love his brother without it being so fucking painful. They could love each other without every encounter they have leaving more helpless people dead, more scars on Vash. From all that he's lost, he could salvage this one thing. He'd be so content with that. He's survived on much less. He ran before, but he'd stay this time, and for good. Neither of them would be alone. They'd have time.

On top of that, Vash needs to help people - it's what keeps him alive, and it makes him happy. Wolfwood needs someone who'll treat him like he's a person rather than a weapon, to remember that he doesn't have to be the Punisher. That's what keeps him alive. There's still a place for him in the world, even for what he's become.

If Vash can convince Wolfwood, his brother's agent, to accept that place... if he can help him... maybe he could do the same for his brother. Just as Luida did for Vash himself.

And Wolfwood does a damn good job playing the part without even knowing that's what he's doing. Well, he knows he's protecting Vash, but all it's in how he does it.

JPN: You only get one life. You have to fight for it, no matter who you hurt in the process. There's no other way to survive.

ENG: You only get one life, y'know? Self-sacrifice might satisfy the ego, but don't throw your life away. Survival's everything.

This is advice you'd get from a brother. If one must die so another can live, I'd rather you live - so make sure of it. Dumbass. (It's also the final request Rem made of the twins: I want you two to survive./Try your very best to survive for me.) Maybe phrased bluntly and a bit abrasive, but not… insane. No weird sermons about crusades and fire from the sky, no verbal abuse or put-downs, no blame, no hurt. What's more, while Wolfwood does try to convince Vash to leave the reporters for dead, when Vash goes back for them Wolfwood bitches all the way but goes with him. He slices open the Grand Worm for them (though I think also to annoy Zazie). And after that, he clinches it by, of all things, trying to get Meryl to eat bugs.

You're not going so survive like that. Come on!/Are any of you freaks interested in survival? Come on! Open wide!

(This is totally irrelevant, but their stupid bickering in the background in the English dub is hilarious. Nick straight up says "I'm helping!" and adds something about how short Meryl is. Meryl starts protesting that she's a "perfectly average-sized woman." I bet they were unbearable in the truck.)

Nai was always dismissive of, if not outright nasty about, Vash enjoying food he doesn't need. Nick gets it. Consuming food gives physical nourishment, and Plants don't need that to survive. But it's also togetherness, shared joy. Those are things both Plants and humans need, so it's not a 'waste'. We're more than merely serving a material purpose or function, even one that's self-declared. Even as Plants.

No matter how heavy a cross you carry, you still deserve to eat. You still deserve to laugh./Heh, no matter how heavy the cross is you carry, you deserve food. And to laugh.

Vash needed to hear that, or something like it. It's the kind of thing Rem used to say, the kind of thing Luida told him. (It's about everyone getting a share.) Meryl, though she cares for him, doesn't yet know how to break through Vash's rumination.

Nick's being a jackass older brother by happenstance, because he's letting down his guard. It's who he really is: kind of a silly kid who cares deeply about people and shows it by goofing off and pushing their buttons until they want to fucking kill him. But Vash would so relieved to have a brother who's just annoying about how much he cares. Who still cares enough to listen to his opinions, and to compromise when they disagree; who doesn't loathe the person Vash is because it's not what he thinks Vash should be. So Vash eats what Wolfwood offers, despite Roberto's warnings, extending his trust. Wolfwoof takes that in the spirit it was intended, a little shocked. Despite himself (and despite Zazie), he and Vash are genuine friends from this moment onward.

Also Nick is having a ball bugging the shit out of Meryl. She's like three feet tall and so easy to piss off! Maybe if he tries hard enough he can make her head explode. Irritating the little sister mode: activate.

That doesn't mean everything's love and peace, though.

Wolfwood's work isn't over yet. I think he's relieved Vash extended his trust both because, despite himself, Nick likes this dude (and that must have been an interesting realisation to come to about his sadistic boss's fluffy wuffy cotton ball of a twin brother) and because it makes his job easier. But now he's emotionally invested. He shouldn't be. He can't be. Zazie reminded him why, can see it in [his] eyes. The last person who cared like this was Livio.

Again, Vash isn't stupid. He does care about Nick as a person, not a surrogate Nai, just as he cares about everyone; it's why he's so easy to love and so, so many people have come to love him. (Precious darling boy.) Nevertheless, there are gaps between what Vash needs from Nick and what Nick is capable of giving. And there's one huge glaring difference between Wolfwood and Knives.

That difference meant the hope Vash came to have about confronting Knives in July was misplaced. He just couldn't have known until it was too late.

Part I

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

[heart-of-gold-outlaw]

Happy Holidays, You Idiot (Soap x Ghost)

By the fucking grace of God, the 141 gets leave for the holidays. Soap almost feels like kissing someone. It's been too long since he's been home, and even longer since he's seen his family. He's looking forward to it—can't wait, really—but then he hears that Ghost will be spending Christmas alone and, well... that just won't do. One thing leads to another, and that's how Soap winds up back home, masked L.T. in tow, ready to brave the season... and pretend he doesn't have a massive crush on his superior officer.

Too bad Soap's family can see right through him. Hopefully Ghost is a little more oblivious.

AO3

It's a goddamn Christmas miracle. It has to be. Lately, leave's been few and far between for the rest of the base, let alone the 141, and Soap had already prepared himself for the inevitable "no, I won't be able to make it home for the holidays" conversation he'd need to have with his mother. She always understands, eventually, even though Soap knows it kills her to not have her youngest home for Christmas. Still, she usually tells him not to get himself into too much trouble, and Soap pretends he doesn't hear the worry in her voice. 

"I know ye can handle yourself, dear," she'd told him one Easter, "but please tell me ye've got someone to look after ye."

"Aye, Ma, I do," he'd reassured her. "We all take care o' each other." Then, before he could stop himself: "And nobody's takin' me down while Ghost's still breathin'."

"Ghost?" Soap had winced at the curiosity in her voice. "Is he the one with the mask in that picture ye sent us?"

"Aye, that'd be him."

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he's a right terror!"

Soap had laughed, told her she didn't know the half of it, and that had been enough to get her to stop worrying for the time being. He hadn't made it home for Christmas that year, either, but his mother seemed a little more okay with it since she knew he was in good hands.

Now, though, Soap can hardly believe it as Price announces they can all go home for a few weeks. There's a barely hidden smile on the Captain's face as Gaz lets out an excited whoop and immediately dashes towards his room to start packing. Soap tries not to immediately follow suit. He's excited, sure, but he knows that if he starts getting ready now, he'll finish too early and have nothing to do until the plane takes off. The anticipation would just about kill him.

His eyes flick to Ghost, who takes the news as silently as he takes everything else. Briefly, Soap thinks he sees a flash of something behind the mask, but it's gone before he can think too much about it. He frowns. Ghost never takes leave, never talks about it. As far as Soap knows, he stays on base if he can, doesn't tell anybody where he goes if he can't. Regardless, Soap's pretty sure Ghost is alone no matter the occasion.

The thought of his lieutenant spending the holidays by himself makes Soap's heart twist. When Price leaves to start making preparations of his own, Soap jogs to catch up to Ghost, who's already halfway out of the room. Ghost glances down at him, eyebrow raised, but doesn't say anything that would suggest Soap should clear out.

"So," Soap says as casually as he can. "We get t' go home for the holidays. Bit of a surprise, eh l.t?" 

Ghost lifts one shoulder in half of a shrug. "Bound to happen eventually."

"My ma's gonna be thrilled. Da, too." Soap smiles, already looking forward to seeing them both. "And I s'pose I should tell my brothers as well. Bastards."

At this, Ghost finally looks at him. "You have brothers?"

"Aye." Soap rolls his eyes. "Two of them. They just about skinned me alive when I enlisted, said if they wound up burying me, they'd dig me up just to kill me again." He snorts at the memory. "I'm the youngest, so I guess it's their job to give me hell."

Ghost huffs at that, something halfway between a laugh and a scoff, and Soap grins. 

"What about you?" Soap can feel his curiosity threatening to drown him. "What are ye gonna do with all this free time, eh?"

For a moment, Ghost doesn't answer. If Soap wasn't watching him, he would have missed the way his eyes widened ever so slightly behind the mask, the way his shoulders tensed like he's ready for a fight. It must be a sore subject, and Soap feels his smile dim a bit. 

"Ye don't have to tell me," he starts, but Ghost is already shaking his head.

"Thought I might stay here," he says, like it's normal and obvious and decidedly not the saddest thing Soap's heard all day. Brown eyes glance over at him, and Ghost must see something on his face, because he shrugs again and continues: "Holidays don't do much for me."

Soap gapes at him. "But it's Christmas."

"It's December 10th, Johnny."

"Ach, ye ken what I mean." Soap rolls his eyes, recognizing the diversion for what it is. "So... what? Ye'll spend the whole time on base?"

Ghost hums. He sounds entirely unbothered by the whole situation. "Something like that."

He's clearly trying to get Soap to drop the subject, and indeed, there isn't much to go on. But Soap's not so easily deterred. The holidays are a big deal in his family—especially Christmas—and he can't imagine anyone wanting to spend them alone. 

That's when the idea hits him: the wonderful, beautiful, absolutely idiotic idea that's sure to get him in more trouble than he's worth.

"Well now," he says, his smile returning with a vengeance. "I can't have ye spendin' Christmas by yerself, Ghost."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Soap knows he's in for it. He doesn't regret them, not in the slightest, but it's far too late to take them back.

Ghost eyes him suspiciously. "What's that s'posed to mean?"

"It means," Soap isn't sure why his heart suddenly beats a little faster in his chest, but he skillfully keeps it from showing, "that yer comin' with me."

It's definitely not protocol to give a command to his superior officer. And it shows. Ghost stops walking so abruptly that his boots almost squeak on the floor, and he slowly cranes his head to the side until he's staring down at Soap. For a moment, Soap's not sure he's going to survive long enough to make it home for the holidays, and he starts going through a mental catalogue of people he wants at his funeral.

Great. Wonder what cemetery my brothers'll have to dig me out of.

Ghost keeps staring at him, face carefully neutral. Neither one of them so much as breathes.

"What?" Ghost eventually asks, breaking the silence. His voice sounds like he's swallowed a bag of rocks.

It's even harder than usual for him to focus, what with Ghost's eyes, still smudged with greasepaint, looking at him so intently. But Soap holds his ground. He can already feel the corners of his lips twitching with another mischievous smile.

"I said," he continues, rolling his shoulders back, "yer comin' with me. To Glasgow. For Christmas."

Ghost shakes his head. "No."

"Yes."

"Johnny..." A warning.

Soap chuckles and punches Ghost lightly on the arm, pretending that his skin doesn't light up at the contact. "Aw, c'mon l.t," he whines. "It'll be fun! Da always makes too much food anyways, an' I can show ye around the city." 

"I don't—" Ghost rubs the back of his neck and looks away. "I don't do holidays, Johnny."

"That's because ye've never spent them with my family." Soap practically bounces on his feet as Ghost starts walking again. "Ye can still wear the mask, if that's what yer worried about."

Ghost huffs out a sigh. "That's not—I'm not worried about anything, Sergeant. I just don't think it's a good idea."

"It's a great idea!" Soap knows he's practically begging at this point, but he can't bring himself to care. Nobody deserves to spend Christmas alone. Not even Ghost. "An' if ye won't come with me, then I'll stay here... but yer gonna have to explain to m' Ma why she won't be seein' her babe."

It's a low blow for sure, but if Soap's learned one thing in the 141, it's that in order to win, you have to fight dirty. He sees the exact moment it works, watches as Ghost glowers at him like he's ten seconds away from ripping Soap's head off with his bare hands. Soap just beams at him. 

"Fine," Ghost grinds out through his teeth.

He sounds irritated, but there's a hint of softness in his eyes that Soap's learned is mostly reserved for him. His heart does a flip, but he forces it back down before it can beat out of his chest.

"Knew ye'd warm up to me, l.t," he says, patting Ghost on the arm again before turning around. The entire time, he'd been walking in the opposite direction of his room. "Just ye wait: we're gonna have a blast!"

/ / /

The full gravity of what he's done doesn't hit Soap until later that evening. He's in the mess hall when it happens, listening to Gaz rattle on about what to get his little sister for Christmas. Admittedly, Soap isn't really paying attention. His mind keeps wandering back to Ghost. The man was really prepared to spend the holidays alone. Worse than that, he was prepared to spend them on base. Soap knows Ghost is a private man, probably doesn't get out much even when he does go home. It sounds like a lonely life. Not that that's too unusual—in their line of work, it's all part of the gig. 

Still, it doesn't sit right. Soap has to wonder what happened in Ghost's past that turned him into who he is today. 

"—oap. Soap. Are you even listening?"

Gaz's voice brings Soap back to reality. He blinks, disoriented, and then smiles apologetically. 

"Sorry Gaz," he says. "I was thinkin' about something else."

Rolling his eyes, Gaz reaches for his cup of water. There's a barely-noticeable smirk on his lips as he takes a sip. "Those thoughts have anything to do with a certain masked l.t?"

Soap groans, head tilting back to hit the wall with a dull thunk. "How'd ye know?"

"It's not that hard to guess."

Sighing, Soap leans forward and absently mixes the mashed potatoes on his tray. He hopes Gaz is the only one who can read him so well.

"Can I ask you a direct question?" Gaz says after maybe three seconds of silence.

Soap shrugs and shoves a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. "Shoot."

"Are you two fucking?"

He inhales the potatoes instead of swallowing them, and nearly hacks up a lung trying to get them out. Gaz watches him instead of helping. There's a knowing look in his eyes that makes Soap's face flush.

"Gaz, what the fuck?" He chokes. 

To his credit, Gaz doesn't waver, just keeps looking at Soap with that same steady smirk. "Well?"

"No!" Soap vehemently shakes his head. "I'm not—he's not... I don't even think he... Gaz!"

Gaz laughs and slides Soap's tray away from him. "Calm down, MacTavish, it was just a question."

"Pretty personal one."

Without his food to mess with, Soap bounces his leg up and down underneath the table. Gaz gives him a shit-eating grin, tips his fingers in a mock salute, and downs the rest of his water. 

"For the record," he says, ignoring Soap as he glares at him, "I think you two would be cute together. I mean, you're obviously head over heels for the guy—"

"I am not."

Gaz quirks an eyebrow. "Really?" He lowers the glass of water to give Soap a look. "Then why'd you ask him to spend Christmas with you?"

Soap's eyes widen. "How did ye—"

"Price."

It takes a moment for the name to register, and then Soap drops his head into his hands. Great. Ghost must've complained to their Captain, and now word's going to go around the whole base. Price may be good at keeping classified information a secret, but he's terrible when it comes to gossip.

"He was going to spend Christmas alone, Gaz," Soap finally says. "Christmas. What was I s'posed to do?"

When he finally brings himself to look up, Gaz is laughing at him.

"John MacTavish," he says as he slowly shakes his head. "You are so fucked."

//

Hey hi I don't even go here, but have chapter one of a SoapGhost Christmas fic

[dawneternal]

Just a Favor | pt 4 | Gwynriel

✦ Warnings: all fluff

✦ Word Count: 1.4k

✦ AO3 Link

✦ Masterlist

Azriel was not at training the next morning. Cassian led the Valkyries assisted by Nesta. Gwyn noticed, of course, but preferred to go about as usual. She thanked the Mother that no one said anything about him so she had no opportunity to blush and stutter and look like an idiot. 

By the end of the session, though, she was feeling a little desperate. So much energy filled her body and the exercise had done nothing to reduce it. It was equal parts nervousness and excitement, tangling together and filling her blood with adrenaline. Her entire world was on the verge of some monumental change and all she could do was wait. 

“Gwyneth,” A deep voice startled her from her thoughts. She whirled around from the weapons rack to find Azriel looking down at her, holding a little bouquet of daisies.

“Cauldron boil me,” She breathed, placing a hand on her chest. Her gaze swept over his figure, checking for any changes since she had seen him last. It was only a couple of days ago but it felt like so much longer. 

She noticed the way his fingers trembled around the stems of the flowers and his restless wings, twitching and fidgeting. His eyes were wide and full of anxiety, with purple smudged underneath like he hadn’t been sleeping much. His shadows rushed toward her as usual, twining around her limbs and through her hair. 

As for Azriel, he could not help smiling. He took her in and decided she looked more beautiful than ever, even with her face streaked with dirt and her hair stuck down with sweat. Especially so, because he loved that she was a warrior. If he was brave enough, he'd drop to his knees right then and ask her to be his forever. 

They stayed like that for a moment, staring at each other while they thought about each other. Completely oblivious to Cassian and Nesta exchanging wry smiles and pretending not to watch. 

“Did you need something?” Gwyn asked, her voice soft, teal eyes still locked on his hazel ones. 

“Yes,” Azriel swallowed and held out the bouquet, “I wanted to say sorry again. In person. And I wanted to ask you to meet me here tonight.”

Gwyn's heart pounded as she took the flowers, taking care not to brush his fingers. She wasn't sure if she could handle it at that moment. It would only remind her of his touch in the moonlight on the bank of the stream. Her rosy cheeks dimpled as she grinned up at him. 

“You don't have to be sorry,” She said, just above a whisper, “What would you like to meet for?”

“I would like to talk to you about something,” He said, cursing himself for his stiffness, “Nothing bad.”

“As long as I'm not in trouble,” Gwyn smiled, tilting her head in that alluring way. 

“Is 7 okay?” Azriel asked, voice trembling just a touch. 

“I'll be here.”

Azriel gave her a nod and then turned, making his way back to the House. Gwyn watched his back as he left, clutching the daisies in her hands and trying to collect herself. She was dizzy, body even more jittery than before.

He wouldn't ask for a private meeting just to tell her she was a terrible kisser, right?

In all of the turmoil of the past few days, there was one thing that Azriel clung to. It was the first thing he'd thought of as he'd flown into the night, leaving Gwyn on the ground as a small smudge of copper. 

He was nervous, possibly as nervous as he had been to show up at the training ring to see Gwyn. He had another bouquet in one hand, pink and yellow lilies, and a box of pastries wrapped with ribbon in the other. 

He paused on the doorstep of the little cottage, wondering if she'd open it before he could knock like usual. But he'd surprised her this time and he found himself staring at the closed door. He couldn't help smiling as he knocked, anticipating her reaction. 

The grey haired woman appeared in the doorway with furrowed eyebrows, ready to tell off unwanted visitors. But then she saw that it was Azriel and a grin spread across her weathered face. 

“My boy,” She reached out her arms for him, hugging him around the gifts he carried. 

He ducked into the cottage and put his gifts on the kitchen table. His mother clocked the wringing of his hands immediately, the restlessness in his eyes. 

“You’ve come to me with troubles today?” She asked in her lilting voice. Azriel would never get tired of it. He would always be the little boy inside that longed to hear just a little more of her voice before being locked in the darkness for another week. 

“Not troubles,” He said as she put the kettle on the stove. He'd do it for her if she'd let him but she never would. He also stifled his protest as she put a napkin in front of him and set a pastry from the box on it. 

“Tell me,” She demanded, sitting across from him and picking a pecan roll for herself, “I'm desperate for gossip these days.”

Azriel had been determined to hold it together. But it was impossible, in front of this woman with such soft eyes and so much love for him. It mingled with the joy and relief and nervousness he was already holding inside and became something overwhelming. His throat ached as tears threatened to spill over. 

“Mama,” He croaked, “I have a mate.”

“Azriel,” She breathed, her roll pausing halfway between the table and her mouth. Then she was up, snack forgotten, throwing her arms around his neck and peppering his face with kisses. She knew how long he'd been waiting for something like this.

“Mama,” He chuckled, trying to loosen her grasp around his neck. 

“Who is she?” She demanded, reaching for the kettle as it began to squeal. 

“Her name is Gwyneth,” He said, as shy as a school boy revealing a crush. “She works in the library. And she won the Blood Rite last year.”

“The Blood Rite?” His mother cried, putting the kettle down so she did not scald herself in her surprise. Azriel nodded, eyes glowing with pride.

“She's a Valkyrie.”

“That's a match made by the cauldron if I ever heard one,” She smiled, tilting her head to the side and watching the way his shadows sped up as he talked about her. “I will meet her, right?”

“Of course,” Azriel said, smile fading, “But I haven't told her yet. I asked her to meet me tonight.”

“Ah, that's why you're acting like a little boy the night before Valentine's Day,” She laughed and set a cup of tea before him.

“I am not,” He protested, grinning in spite of himself. He wrapped his hands around the warm mug and breathed the familiar scent of cinnamon and ginger.

“You're worried she won't accept?” 

Azriel nodded. His mother said nothing, only took a sip of her tea and then got up from the table, disappearing into her bedroom. He could hear her rummaging through something.

“What are you doing?” 

“I saved something for you,” She said, returning with a little velvet box. She set it on the table in front of him and stood back, hands on her hips and eyes glittering. 

Azriel's heart hammered as he looked at it, tears already stinging his eyes. He picked up the box with gentle fingers and opened the lid. Two beautiful earrings lay inside on a bed of silk, sapphires encased in silver metal, carved with little stars and moons. 

“I got them as a gift once,” She said as he admired them, “They were the only nice things I owned for a long, long time. They meant a lot to me. And I saved them because I wanted to give you one to have made into a ring.”

Azriel shook his head, a tear falling down his cheek. His mother reached out and swiped it away, placing a kiss where it had been. He remembered the days when she had nothing nice at all. When she was always tired and ragged with almost no hope left. 

“You should keep them,” He swallowed hard. 

“I'll keep one,” She said, her voice trembling just a touch, “And I'll put it on a chain. But I want you to take this one and have the gem put into a ring and the metal made into a band.”

Azriel stood, leaving the little box on the table, and folded his mother into his arms. It was a long while before he let go. 

“Promise me?” She whispered when he pulled away, reaching up to cup his cheek.

“I promise,” He put his hand over hers and leaned into her touch.

“Good, because she won’t say no to such a beautiful ring. Now tell me everything about her.”

[mimisempai]

You hit me right in the heart

Summary

A short walk in the snow turns into a snowball fight for a facetious demon and his equally facetious angel.

Notes

Guess what? It's another fluffy one 

INEFFABLE ADVENT CALENDER

On Ao3

Rating G -  724 words

Aziraphale and Crowley were walking in the park.

It had snowed during the night, and a beautiful white carpet covered almost everything except the footprints of the few courageous strollers who, like them, had decided to brave the cold.

They walked side by side at a leisurely pace, chatting happily, when Crowley suddenly stopped and crouched down.

Aziraphale looked at him in confusion and asked worriedly, "Are you all right, my dear?"

Crowley, his head bowed, hiding from the angel what he was doing, replied, "Everything's perfectly fine, angel."

He straightened, and Aziraphale saw that he had a snowball in his hand. With a challenging expression, the demon twirled it in his hand before tossing it into the air and catching it.

Aziraphale shook his head and said quietly, "You're not serious?"

"Try me."

The angel narrowed his eyes, then bent down to pick up some snow until he too had a snowball in his hand and challenged the demon, "What are you waiting for to throw it at me? Are you afraid of retribution? Or worse, that you won't be able to hit me?"

He threw his snowball at Crowley, and the ball hit the demon right in the chest. Aziraphale started to turn to escape the retribution that was sure to come when he felt a snowball hit him right in the back.

He turned and looked at Crowley with an offended look on his face, but the demon shrugged innocently and retorted, "Hey, I can't help it, you were showing me your best profile, so I shot instinctively."

He didn't even have time to finish his sentence before a huge snowball hit him in the face. Crowley leaned forward to clear the snow from his face when he heard Aziraphale rush up and say in a panicked voice, "Oh, I'm so sorry, my dear, I swear I wasn't aiming for your face."

Still bent over, Crowley stifled a small laugh. Aziraphale, who could only see his shoulders shaking, began to panic. 

"Crowley, I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to..."

Crowley straightened up, unable to hold back his laughter. Between fits of laughter, he tried to say, "Who said I was afraid I couldn't touch you? I hope your aim with a rifle is better than with a snowball!"

Aziraphale shook Crowley by the shoulders and scolded him, "You idiot! I really thought I had hurt you! And I'm sure my aim is much better than yours." 

Crowley replied, "Angel, if you're talking about 1941, I was just glad I missed you that day. And don't make me think about it again, because I swear I'll make you do the apology dance right here and now."

The angel chuckled softly and raised his gloved hand to gently brush the remaining snow from the demon's face. 

He used his thumb to wipe a last snowflake from Crowley's nose and said in a soft voice, "Anyway, don't scare me like that again. I really thought I hurt you. You're really lucky I love you." 

Crowley's eyes widened in surprise. It wasn't that he doubted Aziraphale's love, but even after all this time, it was like something new every time he said it. And like every time, the demon found it less and less difficult to answer. 

"As much as I love you. "

They stayed like that for a few moments, gazing into each other's eyes. 

Aziraphale moved closer to Crowley and asked him softly, "How do you still look so handsome with all that snow in your hair? "

Giving Crowley no time to react, he closed the distance between them, lifting his head to kiss him and running his fingers through Crowley's hair, pulling him even closer. Crowley returned the kiss and took Aziraphale's face between his hands. 

They stood there kissing for long minutes, oblivious to the wind and the snow that had begun to fall again, and oblivious to the rare walker who made a detour to avoid them. 

Neither wanted to end the embrace, and when they parted, Crowley took Aziraphale's head between his hands to place a final kiss on the angel's lips before sliding his hands down his shoulders to intertwine their hands.

They resumed their walk, during which there were fewer snowballs thrown and more kisses exchanged as neither wanted to let go of the other's hand.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : (After season 2) 

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[weissaddams]

Wenclair Fic Idea No. 2

Hufflepuff Enid and Slytherin Wednesday

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Houses have classes together all the time. They inevitably become close when they’re partnered up during a potions class. No one had wanted to partnered up with Wednesday during the first day of class in their first year, but Enid being the Hufflepuff that she was, volunteered.

Enid was a bit of an outcast herself as some people were still afraid of werewolves since the Great War. That didn’t stop her from being liked and making friends, though. Sure, she transformed every full moon, but the professors made sure all the werewolves were safely tucked away during those full moons. Where no one would harm them and where they wouldn’t be able to harm anyone.

Fast forward to Fifth year, a niche little friend group has formed. Bianca and Yoko are in Ravenclaw. Divina and Ajax were Gryffindor. Enid, Kent and Eugene were in Hufflepuff and Wednesday was in Slytherin.

They were an odd bunch, but they worked. Well, they’d fall apart without Enid keeping them all together, but so far so good.

Wednesday and Enid have gotten fairly close by now, the closest, really.

On the first day of Advanced potions, as they were seated together, brewing Amortentia.

They were both so confused why their potions didn’t smell any different. It was the same smell Enid always found comfortable, Ink and cedar wood. Vanilla and petrichor for Wednesday.

They’d asked Ms. Thornhill what they did wrong, but was assured that their potions were 100% perfect as it smelled just like her own brew.

Odd? No, they were just oblivious idiots who couldn’t figure out they were smelling each other’s scents because that what Amortentia does.

It gives off the smell of someone you love. Which would be pretty hard to distinguish if you’re already so used to it.

Surely, they knew that? They were chosen for the Advanced Potions class, after all.

Not a chance. Their friends could only smile knowingly at their confusion.

--

Additionally, dementors were loose on the school grounds because let’s say Azkaban had too many now. 

Their little friend group was hanging out and studying by the Whomping Willow when the sky turned gray and the temperature dropped.

The teachers weren’t able to get them inside in time and the older students were helping fend off the dementors. Wednesday and Bianca were bravely deflecting them but Protego and Expelliarmus could only do so much.

They were the oldest there and just Wednesday was thrown back and a dementor was hovering over her, ready to suck out what little color she had let into her life, a blinding glow emerged from Enid’s wand, shielding her and pushing the dementor away.

A patronus in the form of a raven was pushing all the dementors away. When she realized she’d bought them some time, she ran to Wednesday and helped her hurry back into the dorms.

Enid’s patronus was a raven. The Addams family was known for having doves and ravens and Wednesday was raven.

Fast forward to a few months later, Wednesday’s patronus sweeps the whole quad as it shields Enid from a flock of dementors. 

Wednesday’s patronus was a wolf. It looked familiar. Almost like a certain werewolf from Hufflepuff?

--

Additionally:

All Addams are Slytherins. They’re royal blood and stuff like the Malfoys but, you know, not evil death eaters. Nicer.

Sinclairs are like the Weasleys. House like the Burrow but bigger and more money.

Werewolf stigma is a lot better since the Great War but it’s still kinda there.

What house do you think Weems would be in? She’s headmistress.

Wednesday and Enid aren’t roomies because different houses have different areas, but they always study together in the library, outside, anywhere really.

Would Wednesday vs Enid as seekers in Quidditch be too much? (Morticia was a chaser during their time at Hogwarts).

Hmm, what else? 

Wednesday learns to be an Animagus! A black cat that runs with Enid on full moons but she doesn’t know yet that it’s Wednesday?

Thing is with them at school, of course, just forgot to write him in. Pugsley, too, eventually.

Wednesday has the invisibility cloak. Her owl is white like Hedwig and called Nero.

Enid’s owl is gray and called Joey.

Also, no one would dare show any kind of disrespect towards Enid lest they want Wednesday Addams to hex them into tomorrow.

--

Yes, hi. I’m sure this is messy but it’s been in my head for days now. Huge HP nerd here. I’ll probably edit this later on. Didn’t mean to make it look like an actual fic.

[seancoffe]

KazuHeiScara HC:

~ Trans Heizou ~

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@gay-salt-amber and another friend helped me with these

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- Their petnames for each other are-

Kazuha’s for Scaramouche is ‘My Leaf’

Heizou’s for Scaramouche is ‘Baby Boy’

Kazuha’s for Heizou is ‘My Detective’

Scaramouche’s for Heizou is ‘Baby’ or ‘Babe’

Heizou’s to Kazuha is ‘Kitty’

Scaramouche’s to Kazuha is ‘Pretty Boy’ or ‘Honey’

- When Scara calls Kazuha pretty boy, he'll typically kiss the crown of Kazuha’s head while holding him for a second or two (Kazuha gets flustered as fuck-)

- So Scara tells Kazuha and Heizou about Childe and how unbelievably annoying he is, this is how their conversation went whenever they met him-

• Childe- “Hey there buddy- you look different, who are they?”

• *Kazuha and Heizou giving him death glares*

• Childe, whispering to Scara- “Why are your two friends looking at me like that?”

• Scara, swatting him away- “Get away from me you bastard, and they aren’t my friends you idiot”

• Childe- “Oh- so what are they?”

• *Kazuha and Heizou still giving Childe death glares*

• Scara- “They’re my fiancés you dumbass”

• Childe- “Ah- they’re the ones you’ve been talking about”

- After Scaramouche and Heizou kill whoever was bothering Kazuha, Heizou would pick out a squishmallow and Scara would buy it as a ‘sorry for leaving you’ because Kazuha thought they were going on a date (Kazuha is clueless about their killings)

- Sometimes Heizou gets stressed about a case and it’s like midnight, Scaramouche doesn’t need to sleep and so he gets up from cuddling Kazuha (who is asleep) and tells Heizou to go to sleep and he’ll do it

- (If you don’t know what Scaramouche Cat is, look it up) So Heizou finds a cat that looks like Scaramouche and as soon as he saw it he picked it up. Their cat (Tama) and that cat became instant best friends

- Kazuha’s morning voice is pretty low, so the first time Scara heard it, it took a moment to get used to

- Like Kazuha just wraps his arms around Scara, whos cooking breakfast, says good morning and this was their conversation-

• Scaramouche- What the actual fuck happened to your voice??

• Heizou- *Looks up* You’ve never heard his morning voice?

• Scara (Who is all blushy now)- No..

- Kazuha and Scara have to ask Heizou if he’s taken his binder off yet cuz he’s forgetful about it (Bind safely children)

- The only types of chocolate Scaramouche likes is coconut and dark chocolate because Heizou and Kazuha make them all the time

- They have an entire closet dedicated to the metals/trophies Kazuha has won at poetry contests

- Heizou has an entire separate paper shredder in his office for charges brought up against his boyfriends

- Once Scaramouche and Raiden got into an argument and then Kazuha and Heizou joined in too until Raiden was too tired to deal with them

- Whenever Scaramouche or Kazuha see Heizou having dysphoria, they drop everything to comfort him (Cuddles, words of affirmation, telling him he is a real man, etc)

- When Kazuha and Heizou met Nahida (Scaras adopted aunt) they instantly hit it off and Scaramouche was glad cuz he thought they wouldn’t

- Once Scaramouche blasted music thinking Kazuha and Heizou were gone but he was wrong, Kazuha got sick that morning and was sleeping and Heizou left. After he found that out he wouldn’t stop apologizing to Kazuha

• Kazuha, with a strained voice- My leaf?

• *Scaramouche oblivious*

• Kazuha, after getting up- My leaf, can you keep it down?

• Scara- Shit- sorry pretty boy, I thought you were gone? What’s wrong?

• Kazuha- Heizou didn’t tell you?

• Scara- No, honey, what’s wrong? Is everything ok?

• *Kazuha explains and Scara rushes him back to bed*

• Scara- I’m sorry, I didn’t know

• Kazuha- Leaf, it’s ok, you didn’t know

- They prank call Sara to piss her the fuck off

- Scara gets over stimulated a lot out in public so as soon as they get back into the car back home, Heizou and Kazuha tell him all types of praises (You were so brave, good job baby, you did so well, etc) while Heizou cuddles Scara in the backseat to help

- Kazuha and Scaramouche need to hide Heizou’s energy drinks from him or else he’s gonna stay up all night

- Kazuha and Heizou were highschool sweethearts and they met Scara after the Vision Hunt Decree

- Tattoo Artist Scara, Detective Heizou, and Florist Kazuha

- Kazuha will koala hug and sleep on Heizou at his desk when it’s late at night when Heizou is still working and sometimes Scaramouche makes Heizou tea and brush his hair

- Heizou and Kazuha wanted Scara to tattoo all three of their initials in a heart on all three of their wrists

- Kazuha steals Scaramouche’s hat and Scara finds it adorable

- Kazuha has a magnifying glass charm, Heizou has a Scaramouche hat charm, and Scaramouche has a maple leaf charm

- When off work, Scaramouche will clean the house to surprise Kazuha and Heizou

- They have matching hoodies

- Kazuha and Heizou worship Scara as their god lmao

- Scaramouche gets touch starved and loves sleeping on Heizou and Kazuha’s laps

- Scara has an abandonment issue (from Raiden and all his friends dying) and so he’s clingy. Whenever Heizou or Kazuha say he’s clingy (they find it cute) he always denies it but he’ll always drag them back to bed or grab their hand or something

- Every year they send Raiden a calendar with all of their faces on it to piss her off

- They disguise themself to set off fireworks that are mocking raiden

- Every year for their anniversary, Kazuha makes both Heizou and Scara poems

- Heizou likes the ‘dark academia’ style but never buys anything like it cuz he doesn’t think it seems like him, and so Scara and Kazuha have started buying him clothes in that style after finding out he liked the style from a mood board in his office

- Heizou has a septum piercing

- Kazuha and Heizou color in Scara’s tattoos with markers

- Kazuha has a leaf/wind tattoo from his shoulder to part of his chest

- Once Kazuha came home to Scaramouche and Heizou sacrificing Kermit the Frog, they both got banished to the couch that night

- Heizou pulls the best pranks on Kazuha and Scaramouche on April Fools

- Scaramouche will spoil the both of them for Christmas/Birthdays/New Years

- Once Heizou got hurt while doing his detective stuffs and so Kazuha and Scara refused to leave his side until he got better

- Kazuha wears red nail polish

- After seeing Kazuha wear a skirt, Heizou wanted to but he felt like it would make him less of a man. So Scara found out somehow and after a little convincing and comforting they both got Heizou to wear a skirt

- Scaramouche screams into his pillows and once he’s done Kazuha and Heizou will question why his voice is so rough

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Apple of my eye

This beautiful moodboard has been made by @sorisooyaa, my beloved baby...

In an attempt to break me out of my funk, here comes a little Ori story from the sweet sheet of the @fellowshipofthefics February Bingo.

Words: 1.5 k

Characters: Ori x reader

Prompt: Kissing in the rain

Your thoughts were flickering in and out of focus as you stared at the raindrops running down the opaque windowpane beside you despondently.

The weather had been rotten for days and you yearned for sunshine and blue skies with almost childlike fervency.

“What I wouldn’t give for a sweet, golden apple,” you sighed, well-aware of how whimsical and random that thought was, and leaned your head against the cool glass.

Rainstorms always made you feel profoundly lonely; they were meant for lazy cuddling by the fire and self-indulgent poetry readings. Unfortunately for you, the one who insidiously crept into all of your daydreams of sweet, innocent togetherness seemed stubbornly oblivious to your affections and so, you were doomed to petulant moping instead.

The slamming of a door interrupted your morose thoughts suddenly, and you looked up in surprise; surely, nobody would dare brave the vicious downpour when nightfall was so close at hand. You were, after all, well supplied and there was no good reason to venture forth at this hour.

“Lassie,” Dwalin grumbled reproachfully, “take a care what you wish for!”

Startled, you scanned the room and soon realised that it was indeed Ori, the very person you had been musing about so miserably, who had left the shelter of the small hut you were perched-up in together until the storm had abated.

“What is he thinking?” you exclaimed in dismay, springing to your numb feet in alarm.

“You’ve asked for some fruit, so he went to get you what your heart desires.”

“Nonsense!” you opined vehemently. “Why would he do something so recklessly thoughtless? He’ll get mired down in the mud or lose his way in the blinding rain! What my heart desires…and he leaves, really!”

Kíli gave you a long, dumbfounded stare, his unwavering disbelief starkly evident in every single line of his face.

“Ori would try to unhook the moon and pick stars like flowers for you,” he eventually said and shook his head regretfully. “Not that it has done him much good thus far.”

The heat of indignation and of disappointed love rose into your cheeks as you strode towards the door without sparing a thought or word for the unduly forward prince.

“Bloody fool,” you cursed. “Thrice confounded idiot!” Without paying any further heed to the astonished faces turning towards you in your passionate outburst either, you threw open the door and rushed out into the onslaught of icy water fearlessly.

Immediately, rivulets of stunning cold made their way down your spine and permeated your clothes as you advanced, tottering, towards the nearby line of fruit trees on unsteady feet.

This might well have been a mistake, you conceded, but you were too proud and decided to turn back now like a beaten cur.

Soon, you could make out the beloved silhouette of a small, dainty being – leaning forward to defy the vengeful violence of the sheets of rain driving him back – moving resolutely under the shadow of the dark trees.

“Ori!”

He turned around, wiping one hand over his eyes to clear his vision.

“What are you doing? Come in! It’s raining too much for you to go trudging off alone; it’s not safe.”

With a small, slightly quivering smile, he let his other hand shoot forward and – as his stiff fingers unravelled – you could discern a beautiful, golden apple lying like an unlooked-for treasure in his palm.

“I just…you said..” Ori grimaced and took a step towards you, his offering still stretched out reverently in front of his drenched and wretchedly trembling body.

Before you could either chide or thank him, he slipped on a treacherous spot of deep mud and fell hard.

“Ori!” You hastened forward, instantly losing your balance as your foot caught on a stone that had been obscured by the churned-up earth, and slithered into him on your hands and knees. “Are you okay? Oh, you shouldn’t have!”

Overcome by worry and love, you started patting his legs and arms – checking your hands for blood every other second – in a public display of attachment you would have been deeply ashamed of if anyone else had witnessed it.

“I just wanted to make you feel better,” Ori finished his previous thought quietly. “You looked so very sad because of the rain.”

“The rain?” It was true that you were not overly fond of overcast weather, but it had not really been the storm that had soured your mood. Maybe, you thought, it was time to tell him the truth; for once, you were perfectly alone and – surrounded by a veil of water – you truly felt as if you were the only people left alive in a world made of fury and darkness.

“I have tried to make you understand how much you mean to me for weeks now,” you confessed, crawling up over his prone body and staring longingly into his wide eyes. “It was the lack of a favourable reaction from you that has dampened my joy.”

Ori blinked in confusion. “That is highly irregular,” he finally said. “I might be slow, but I am steady; thus, I have dutifully studied your glances and smiles and I’ve memorised every one of them to make sure that I was not deluding myself.”

Proffering his apple once more, he blushed furiously. “I would have fulfilled your every wish, proving myself to be caring and reliable and then, a few months hence, I might have gathered the courage to present you with a token of my undying affection, made by my own hands and accompanied by a long letter of confession.”

He looked positively distraught now, wiping at his wet hair falling into his beautiful face periodically and gazing up at you with imploring intensity. “Never would I have guessed that my reticence would cause you pain. You must believe me when I swear that this was never my intention!”

You wanted everything he had described, of course, but you desired him more; you were restless and wet, and consequently good manners and wise precaution were not foremost in your troubled mind at that moment.

“Tell me true, Ori dearest, do you reciprocate my helpless infatuation then?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed, obviously scandalised by the minute flicker of doubt in your expression. “How could I not? Take this apple as a proof of my devotion; you yearned for sweetness and sunshine, and I’d stop the very rain from falling if only the depth of my love could tear the heavenly veils.”

“Sweetness,” you mused with a smirk and leaned forward to press your lips onto his brow. “I accept what you are offering, my darling.”

That face you had been dreaming about for so many days and nights was tilted up ever so slightly and your heart understood the cautious invitation before your mind could even make sense of everything that was happening; your lips wandered across his freckled cheeks and along his soft, bearded jaw to land softly on that expressive mouth you so admired.

It was still raining hard and, every so often, you tossed your head back to draw a deep breath to avoid drowning in your greed and the abundance of water battering your back unforgivingly, but – now that you had Ori to yourself – you couldn’t stop kissing him until you were light-headed with giddy triumph.

“You’re soaked,” you finally laughed, leaning your forehead against his, “and so am I. Let’s go in and dry off; I am more than willing to share my bedroll with you until we’re warmed up again.”

His golden eyes flashed with hints of amber and onyx as he realised that you were the only one allotted a separate chamber for privacy reasons; he had never set foot in that forbidden room and the thought of being secluded with you in so intimate a manner made his blush deepen and his fingers tremble.

“Highly…” he started.

“Irregular? Indecent? Tempting?” you supplied with a wink and scrambled to your feet cautiously, grabbing his hand and pulling him up alongside you.

“Yes!”

“Well, you’ve risked your health and happiness to get me an apple,” you grinned. “I would be remiss indeed if I didn’t risk my reputation and integrity to show myself appropriately grateful.”

Once more, he looked highly bewildered by your forwardness, but he followed you back to the cabin without saying another word.

“Ah, you’re alive!” The members of his company – friends and kin – seemed both relieved and amused by the muddy, drenched, pathetic sight of your victorious return.

“Indeed,” you said, still dragging Ori by the hand and presenting your apple proudly. “We shall now retire to clean up and to celebrate the successful foray of our dearest Ori.”

You disappeared into the small room at the end of the hall under a hail of hooting and hollering; someone wisely prophesied that Ori would end up marrying you and someone else – Kíli if your ears did not betray you – predicted an outcome of a much lewder variety.

If you had any say in the matter, as you hoped you would, you’d prove each and every one of them right before long.

So, special thanks to my darling baby for this beautiful edit...

And thanks to @fellowshipofthefics for the lovely prompts and the support.

Lots of love from a very sad little me!