#but also it came from a direction that didn't make sense and I didn't see anybody but it left a mark on my skin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imagobin · 3 days

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Head canons for Zoldyck siblings reactions to sibling reader hinting they will leave the estate one day and then actually leaving and sibling reader was close to them so 🦄🦄

Omg the drama that could come from this fhgkd thank you for your request! Sorry it took a bit :'3 But I really love this, hope you enjoy what I came up with!

🔯Zoldyck Siblings react to you leaving HCs🔯

📍Illumi📍

Illumi's reaction would definitely be the strongest, he loves all his siblings to quite the obsessive level, so if he ever caught you hinting at the mere possibility of leaving he would not like that at all.

Not only because you're a very capable assassin, and losing such a powerful family member wouldn't be good for business, but because he worries of what you'll even do in the outside world. "Why would you want to leave? You have everything you can wish for here... we all care about you, while out there people will just use and betray you. Trust your big brother, it's better if you stay with us."

You do trust him, he always has plenty of good advice to give, but you also want to do your own thing, discover yourself, so you don't let him convince you.

Illumi would start keeping closer attention to you, monitoring your movements so he can catch you if you ever try to leave, and persuade you to change your mind.

But of course, he can't be there constantly to ensure you don't run away from the family, he's got work to do.

You leave while he's on one of his longer missions, and once he comes back and learns you've ran away he is really disappointed, though of course he doesn't show it.

He wonders if he'd be able to bring you back, or if you'll ever come home on your own. He tries calling you over and over, but naturally you don't pick up, you know how Illumi is, you can't risk him finding out where you are, or he'll somehow get there in record time and take you back home.

Predictably, Illumi wants to track you down and get you back, at any cost, you can't just run away like that, it's incredibly immature and will only serve to worry everyone.

---

🎮Milluki🎮

You could be more direct at hinting you wanted to leave when it comes to Milluki. He might be somewhat of a mama's boy, but he knows when to keep his thoughts to himself. He's not really a fan of family drama.

When you asked him if he ever had a desire to explore the outside world and try new things, he'd looked at you as if you were some sort of alien. "Nah, I'm good staying here. I guess if there could be some stuff worth checking out, but I can get everything I'm interested in right here, so I don't really care about it... do you?"

You softly admitted you did wonder what was out there, he shrugged and the topic was swiftly put to the side for something you both cared about, like anime or games.

The day you do decide to run away though, Milluki will finally understand the sense of that question. He can't help but wonder if you would've let him in on your plans if he'd answered in some other way.

He wouldn't have tried to stop you, he doesn't really care about keeping his siblings from doing things, unless he's ordered to by his mom or dad.

He does think about you sometimes, and texts you occasionally, though you don't always reply. He's happy whenever you do, though you never talk of your whereabouts.

Milluki is okay with that, and makes sure nobody finds out you two are still occasionally in touch, which honestly isn't too difficult since the others rarely come into his room anyway.

He COULD track you down in no time, but won't do so unless someone asks him to, and so far, nobody has, since Illumi prefers to do things his way.

---

🪀Killua🪀

You were the one who accidentally got Killua interested in seeing more of what the world had to offer. You didn't mean to, but the way his blue eyes would light up every time you told him about cool places and fun things normal people did made it impossible for you to stop talking about it.

He ended up running away even before you did, and that only motivated you even more to do the same. Hearing about how much fun he was having while hanging around with Gon... made you wish for friends too.

When you finally left the estate yourself, and called Killua to let him know, he was really excited, wondering if you'd run into each other at some point. "Hah! Took you long enough! And to think that you've wanted to get out for longer than I have... I'm glad about it though, I wonder if you'll find some friends too, but they certainly won't be as cool as Gon!"

You do eventually meet up with him, and he's thrilled to see you again, though he's a bit nervous about introducing you to Gon, fearing he might get along better with you.

It all goes sort of well in the end... because you and Gon talked lots about Killua and your respective experiences with him. It made the white haired boy really embarrassed, but he was also glad that Gon didn't have the time to know you better.

You catch up with Killua as well, ask him what he's been up to and such, then he asks you if you've heard from the rest of the family as well, and you shake your head. You haven't talked to anyone else... aside from your occasional exchanges with Milluki.

After a day spent together, you part ways once more; the boys have their own goals and you got yours after all. But you promise each other to definitely keep in touch and to meet up some other time.

---

🧸Alluka🧸

Alluka was forbidden from setting foot in the outside world due to her dangerous powers. She was the one person you would've absolutely loved to tell everything about it to.

Unfortunately, since she was constantly kept under surveillance you couldn't do that. You tried once, and your mother immediately scolded you, saying Alluka couldn't get those sorts of ideas in her mind.

When you ran away, you didn't have time to say goodbye to Alluka, and due to her isolation, nobody even bothered to tell her you'd gone off on your own. She just wondered why you'd stopped coming all of a sudden.

She only learns of you escapade once you meet up with Killua the second time, and see her there with him. She is overjoyed to see you again. "Y-y/n!! I'm so happy to see you again! I was so worried something had happened to you... nobody would tell me where you were... you've been well, right?!"

Alluka hugs you tightly and you apologize for disappearing so abruptly. You assure her you've been well, and that you're very happy to see her with Killua... outside of that cursed room at last.

You spend a calm day together with her and Killua, where she tells you all about the fun places he's been taking her to. You can't help but be proud of Killua for what he's doing, and you're also excited for what the future has in store for Alluka.

Predictably, once it's time for goodbyes again, Alluka begs you to stay with them instead, not wanting to lose you another time. She gets a little pouty about it, until Killua explains to her she can't choose what you do with your life.

She accepts those conditions and asks you to at least call, because she does want to hear lots from you from now on.

---

🪭Kalluto🪭

Kalluto never stayed away from his mother for long, so, much like with Illumi, you'd have to be careful about what you talked with him, knowing that if you said anything weird, he was definitely going to tell Kikyo.

He did catch you looking at a few books that could've given you away, but you always managed to change topics, and with Kalluto being the youngest, he didn't really feel like he had the right to press you for information.

Besides, he had no reason to doubt your loyalty to the family given how close to everyone you were, you even took time out of your day to spend time with him! Something his other siblings didn't really do that often.

That's why when you did leave, it hit him the hardest. While Killua's departure had been tough to handle, given how he'd always wanted to be noticed by him, your departure felt like he'd lost the one sibling who truly saw him. Things felt much lonelier for him without you around, and he couldn't even call you, because he didn't have a phone at the time.

Kalluto eventually joins the Phantom Troupe in hopes of getting strong enough to take both you and Killua back to the family. What he wasn't expecting, however, was meeting you during that process.

You're super happy to see him out and about, but he didn't leave the estate for the same reasons as you did. "Why... did you run away? Were you not happy with us? You made mother really upset... you made me upset... you made me feel lonely."

Hearing Kalluto state how he felt when you left does make you feel a bit guilty. You assure him you still love your family, but you realized you'd never be able to do your own thing if you never left the estate.

He struggles to understand your perspective, and still hopes you'll go back home one day, but he doesn't want to argue with you, so he accepts it. He demands for your phone number, so you two can still keep in touch.

---

#hxh #hunter x hunter #zoldyck #zoldyck headcanons #zoldyck siblings #illumi zoldyck #milluki zoldyck #killua zoldyck #alluka zoldyck #kalluto zoldyck #killua #illumi #milluki #kalluto #alluka #hxh headcanons #zoldyck family #the zoldyck family

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swinging-stars-from-satellites · 4 months

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prayer request I guess?

#I got shot with a pellet gun this morning taking the dogs out??? or at least presumably a pellet gun???#we are in a rural town so there's every chance somebody was shooting squirrels and missed or something #bc my yard isn't fenced #but also it came from a direction that didn't make sense and I didn't see anybody but it left a mark on my skin #so like... maybe neighborhood kids thinking it's funny??#idk if it happens again my mom said she's gonna call the cops and at least get a paper trail #it was probably kids screwing around or an accident but now I'm scared to be in my own yard

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wonder-worker · 2 months

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"The feast of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist being appointed as the day upon which the coronation of the king [Edward V] would take place without fail, all both hoped for and expected a season of prosperity for the kingdom."

-Excerpt from the Croyland Continuator / David Horspool, "Richard III: A Ruler and Reputation"

Even though Edward IV’s death was unexpected, after twelve years of peace there need not have been too much of a sense of foreboding about the succession. The great dynastic wound from which the Wars of the Roses had grown had not so much been healed as cauterized by the extinction of the House of Lancaster. There was no rush for London, as had happened in earlier, disputed successions. The royal party didn’t set out from Ludlow for ten days after hearing the news of Edward IV’s death, while Richard took his time, too. And the new king had [his mother the dowager queen and] two uncles to support him: his mother’s brother, the sophisticated, cultured, highly experienced Earl Rivers; and his father’s, the loyal and reliable Duke of Gloucester, to whom Edward IV had entrusted unprecedented power and vital military command.

... [Richard of Gloucester] had achieved his goal by a mixture of luck and ruthlessness, and if he made it appear, or even believed himself, that destiny played a part, this only made him a man in step with his times. Modern historians have no time for destiny, but sometimes the more ‘structuralist’ interpretations of the events surrounding the usurpation can come close to it. When we read that ‘the chances of preserving an unchallenged succession were . . . weakened by the estrangement of many of the rank-and-file nobility from . . . high politics, which was partly a consequence of the Wars of the Roses and partly of Edward IV’s own policies’, it is hard not to conclude that an unforeseeable turn of events is being recast as a predictable one. But without one overriding factor – the actions of Richard, Duke of Gloucester after he took the decision to make himself King Richard III – none of this could have happened. That is, when the same author concedes ‘Nor can we discount Richard’s own forceful character’, he is pitching it rather low*.

Edward IV had not left behind a factional fault line waiting to be shaken apart. Richard of Gloucester’s decision to usurp was a political earthquake that could not have been forecast on 9 April, when Edward died. After all, Simon Stallworth did not even anticipate it on 21 June, the day before Richard went public. We should be wary of allowing hindsight to give us more clairvoyance than the well-informed contemporary who had no idea ‘what schall happyne’. This is not to argue that Richard’s will alone allowed him to take the Crown. Clearly, the circumstances of a minority, the existence of powerful magnates with access to private forces, and the reasonably recent examples of resorts to violence and deposition of kings, made Richard’s path a more conceivable one. But Richard’s own tactics, his arrest of Rivers, Vaughan and Grey, the rounding up of Hastings and the bishops, relied on surprise. If men as close as these to the workings of high politics at a delicate juncture had no inkling of what might happen, the least historians can do is to reflect that uncertainty [...].

(*The author who Horspool is referencing and disagreeing with is Charles Ross)

#wars of the roses #edward v #richard iii #edward iv #my post #I'm writing a post on this topic but I have no idea when I'll finish it so I figured I should post Horspool's epic analysis #or should I say epic takedown? <3 #friendly reminder that Richard's usurpation happened primarily and decidedly because of Richard's own decisions and actions #we need to stop downplaying his singular agency and accountability by casting the blame on others #most of all Elizabeth Woodville and her family but also the bizarre interpretation of historians like Ross and Pollard (et al)#who somehow hold Edward more responsible (through a 'structuralist' view as Horspool says) even though that literally makes no sense #also friendly reminder that actual contemporaries did not view Edward V's minority as a sign of worry and potential discontent #quite the opposite - they expected him to have a prosperous reign. which made sense since Edward IV left his son a far more stable #country than any former minor king (and most other adult kings tbh). The irony is that it was his son's usurper who benefitted from it.#also I added Elizabeth Woodville to the list because Edward V himself specifically said that he trusted the governance of the country #'to the peers of the realm and the queen' as quoted by Mancini (likely relayed to him by John Argentine)#and this is supported by evidence. After Edward's death the Croyland Continuator substitutes Elizabeth's role in the council #for that of the King: 'the counsellors of the king now deceased were present with the queen'#we know Elizabeth presided over all the council's decisions and initiated proposals (the size of her son's military escort) on her own #She was clearly the one with the most authority in the council (who were described as being present with *her* not anyone else)#Hastings made demands but he couldn't enforce them at all (and was in fact worried). It was clearly Elizabeth who had that power.#She was likely going to play a very prominent role during her son's minority and imo it's problematic to assume otherwise #(Lynda Pidgeon assumes otherwise but she's based her assumption on objectively false information so I don't think we should take her #seriously)(see: she claims that EW lacked influence compared to her male relatives in royal councils when EW HERSELF WAS IN ROYAL COUNCILS)#That's not to go too far the other direction and claim EW tried to dominate and tactlessly exclude others - we know she didn't #The impression we get by this first council and by Richard's own actions indicates that she Richard and Anthony would likely #work *together* when it came to governing the realm #I do find it frustrating when people disregard the fact that based on the impression we have she would've had a very visible #and powerful role

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muchosbesitos · 3 months

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hear me out, we already know Miguel is probably touch-starved, but imagine him being really touch-starved. Maybe the reader is a baker or smth so she's naturally sweet (wink wink nudge nudge) and maybe just a little chubby. Miguel is always shy about asking readers for small things, like kisses and hugs, but she's really nice about it.

One day, Miguel has had a bad day and goes over to the reader's house for cuddles and is very grumpy about it, which makes reader kinda surprised and flustered to see how demanding he is about it. But as he's cuddling with her, he is very touchy per se and won't stop kneading parts of reader's thighs and shmoobis, which makes her really flustered but she doesn't want to ruin Miguel's moment

this could be smutty but fluff and the end because Miguel deserves a little sweetness in his life

sweetest bite

pairing: miguel o’hara x chubby fem reader

contents: thigh fucking, nipple play, mating press, miguel being a munch (as per usual), oral (m), improper use of frosting, aftercare(ish)

author’s note: i’m so behind on requests i’m so sorry, i promise i’ll get to work on them 😭 i hope you still enjoy this though. trying sum new with the whole layout so lmk your thots 🥸

word count: 6.8k (yeah idk how to explain this one chief)

You were the sweetest thing miguel allowed himself to indulge in. Well, you and your pastries. He'd gotten so used to sacrificing his happiness for the better of the multiverse, of sacrificing everything that he had to give just to make sure that it stayed intact. But, he couldn't stay away from the little baker that set shop on 11th street in Nueva York.

"You should go and visit this little shop I found a couple days ago. The empanadas are to die for," Jess had told him after the last batch at the HQ hadn't been up to par with his standards. He wasn't expecting much out of his visit, the most he was hoping for was decent replacement for the botched empanadas and a cup of coffee. After all, Jess had never strayed him in the wrong direction in terms of food.

The scent of cinnamon and a pinch of vanilla filled up his nostrils as he walked into the shop, the aroma providing a homely feeling. It didn't compare to the other shops scattered around the city, the ones who smelt like stale bread and probably had rats scattering around in this back. Every single space from the shop looked clean, the white floors beneath his feet almost showing his reflection.

No, this was one was nice. From the peonies that you had on a vase at the front desk to the sheer decoration of the walls, a couple paintings scattered across the pink and white walls. Nothing looked out of place, everything seemed to coordinate perfectly. The lofi music playing in the background only added to the atmosphere, putting him in a more relaxed mood than he originally was. His jaw unclenched and his muscles were slack, a sense of calmness rushing through him.

The people inside also seemed to have a silent understanding that the atmosphere was supposed to be relaxing, conversations exchanged in light whispers. It was a nice change of pace from the usual bustling streets of Nueva York, almost like a place where time seemed to stop completely. A place that was an escape from the city, a safe haven of sorts. It provided him with a sense of normalcy he wasn't even aware that he wanted.

He normally didn't spend time appreciating the aesthetic of a place given how busy his schedule was, but he could see the appeal of this little shop. He almost regretted not finding this shop earlier, it provided with more relaxation than he'd ever find at the empty tables of the HQ cafeteria. There was nobody here that knew him, nobody there to avoid his presence or criticize his actions. Everyone just regarded him like he was one of their own, continuing on with their conversations.

What Jess had failed to mention to him before he came here is that the owner would be so enthralling. You weren't doing much apart from tapping something into the register yet you still managed to capture his attention. He wanted to look away to avoid coming off as a creep but his eyes seemed to defy his brain's instructions, keeping his attention solely for you. The chatter in the background died to a low hum as he watched you hand a paper bag to the man in front of you.

"How's your wife and kids?" He couldn't help but be taken aback when the question slipped from your lips, surprised at the gesture. Most of the people in Nueva York were so consumed in their own lives that they didn't bother to remember much about anybody else, much less ask any questions that didn't serve them an individual gain. Even with his enhanced hearing, all he could focus was on what you were saying like a siren luring him in.

He could tell from the little smile on your face that the man was engaging in the conversation, your hands struggling to keep up as you talked with him. He'd overheard you mention something about packing in a few extra cookies for the kids, his heart swelling at a gesture that wasn't even meant for him. You and the man kept talking for about another minute before he told you goodbye and you waved at him as he departed the shop. Miguel was next in line, but he felt his feet stuck to the ground like quicksand.

He was so enticed by the sight of you, the way your eyes illuminated under the white lights. Lighting that would normally make someone appear sickly only seemed to accentuate your features out to him even more. "Next, please," your voice came out like sheer honey to his ears, snapping him out of the trance he was in. He took two steps forward, coming up to the register. He'd spent so much of time simply just looking at you that he hadn't even bothered to look over the menu. You didn't annoyed at him for holding up the line, your finger tapping against the marble countertop as you waited for his decision.

"I'll get two of your conchas and three of your empanadas with a hot roast coffee," he finally spoke up after a while, looking over from the menu to you. "You want the empanadas made out of flour or corn?" You inquired after typing the order into the register. "I’ll get corn, please," he pulled out his wallet as he spoke, handing you much more than the amount showing up on the screen. You tried to give him back the change, but it only ended up in the pink tip jar you had set next to the register.

"Can I get a name for your order, please?" You asked him before he had the chance to walk away, his footsteps coming to a stop before he turned over to face you. "Miguel," he responded before he finally stepped away, leaving you feeling flustered and confused. The way his voice sounded to your ears was something out of pure sin, a part of you wanting to indulge in that as much as possible. But you refused to make a big deal out of the mildly handsome customer, refused to make a big deal out of the fleeting glances he shot your way and the way he also seemed to feel a spark between the two of you when your hands touched.

You could feel his stare as you kneaded the dough, but you didn't seem to mind it all that much. It seemed more like he was analyzing you, the way that you moved rather than something predatory. You had a small radio set up in the back to liven up the mood while you were baking, your hips swaying to the rhythm of the salsa song playing. You hummed along to the beat, setting the pan in the oven. You leaned against the counter as you waited, all the other goods pretty much set for another couple hours.

"Miguel!" You called out, watching as he got off the spot he was leaning on and walked over to you. He thanked you once you handed him the paper bag, his fingertips almost seeming to purposely want to touch yours this time around. Nope. Not gonna make a big deal out it. You forced yourself to look away from him as he stepped away from the counter, plastering a smile on your face as you greeted the next customer coming in. Greta. You'd taken the time to learn these people's names and learn what it is that they tended to get just to give them a sense of being seen.

The first bite of the concha had been delectable, a low moan escaping from his lips as he savored the taste of the warm cinnamon and vanilla blending together. He hadn't had a concha like this one since he took a business trip to Mexico. While Nueva York was quickly adjusting to fit the needs of the diversifying population, it didn't mean that every restaurant provided that taste of home he was longing for. Most of them just felt like a cheap replacement of the real thing, the taste usually bland and lacking seasoning.

But now he had an entirely different dilemma on his hands. a part of him wanted to eat the concha slowly, savor every bite of the treat while the other part of him wanted to scarf it down as quickly as he could. Eventually he lost the battle against his self control, eating the two conchas and one of the empanadas. Every part of this evening had surpassed his expectations, the empanadas being more than 'decent.' He would normally be more careful in the way that he ate, but now, crumbs were making their way down his black shirt and to his pants. Yet, he could seem to care less.

"How'd you like the treats? I haven't seen you around before so I'm assuming it's your first time," You asked him as he stepped up to the register, your head tilting back slightly to look at the man in the eyes. The afternoon sunlight coming from the door accentuated his eyes, almost making them look like a melting pot of rubies. While your shop was met with various different people everyday at almost every hour, you knew that you couldn't forget him even if you tried. His name still rang like a melody throughout your head.

"Liked them so much i'm planning on buying another concha," he told you, sliding one hand into the pocket of his pants to take his wallet out. "I'm glad you liked them so much. That'll be two dollars," you told him, taking the money from him and setting it in the cash register. You waved at him as he left, convincing yourself that the look back he gave after stepping out of the shop hadn't been for you. Even if you really wished that it would've been. All you could do was just hope that he would come back again soon.

Going back to work had proven to be more of a struggle than he originally thought, His mind replaying the small moments between the two of you. Your hand grazing against his as you handed him the cup of coffee. The smile that seemed to be just a little bit wider when directed towards him. He could still feel his hand tingling from the spot where you'd touched him, your touch electrifying him every way possible.

"For fuck's sake," he muttered to himself as he opened up one of the files on the monitors, the words blurring together despite his best efforts to maintain his focus. He felt like a fool, being in his 30s and obsessing over somebody in this manner like he was a school boy. Despite the fact that he felt like a fool, he couldn't help the smile that threatened to overcome his features at just the mere thought of seeing you again in that little pink apron. All he could do was munch on the extra concha that he'd bought, his mind constantly wandering back to you.

Miguel hadn't attempted to be in a relationship after finding his ex and his father sleeping together, the experience being enough to traumatize him for this lifetime and the next. He'd given up on being a romantic, of going through the motions of learning what a woman's favorite color was and gifting her flowers that ended up wilting by the hour. He'd engaged in a few hookups from time to time, though he only ended up feeling like an asshole afterwards. They expected his call back, only to have their text not even go through. But.. he wasn't interested in you for that.

Sure, he could admit it to himself that you were probably one of the most beautiful women he's laid eyes on. The way your hips moved in the shop was hypnotic, the small movement making all sorts of domestic thoughts run through his head. But he wanted to know what it was that made you tick, what made you laugh, what it is that made you cry. He didn't see you as a prize to gain, but rather as something that he wanted to treasure. Someone that he could see himself coming home to after a long day of work.

The week following his first visit, he'd been buried under mountains of work. Whether it be misplaced files, a sudden surge of anomalies popping up, or just the daily Spider-Man activities that he was tasked with. He'd been looking for a spare opportunity to go back into your shop, maybe ask for your number this time around, but that opportunity usually got shot down with the amount of work he had due. He'd only managed to get a couple glimpses of you when he happened to swing by your store a couple times, his memory saving the moment like an sd card.

He'd managed to get a few moments to himself on a Friday, leaving immediately to go to your bakery before he got stopped by one of the members. He'd barely had one interaction with you and he was already starting to feel depraved having to go a couple days without talking to you. The bell placed on top of the door announced his arrival as he came in, your attention shifting from the counter you were restocking over to the door. You looked as beautiful as every time he's had the pleasure of seeing you.

"Thought you might've found another bakery to go to, Miguel. After you complimented my conchas too," you spoke first, giving him a teasing smile as he approached the counter. "There's no other bakery that would be able to size up to this one. I just got busy with work is all," he knew that you were just teasing him, but he still wanted to explain himself to you. Though he wasn't sure if you'd even thought about him that much. but surely you had, since you noted his absence. He was struggling the same as you were not to let these little gestures go to his head.

"Do you want what you got last time?" You asked him, his heartbeat thundering against his own ears. It was like you were trying to kill him now. He could understand why so many people came to your bakery now, for that feeling of being seen by you. Of getting that sense of meaning something to someone, well at least enough for you to remember their order. "Make it three conchas instead of two this time, please," he responded, once again giving you way much more than the amount had totaled out to be before going to wait for his order.

All he knew was that he had to have more than the complimentary conversation with you, but he couldn't figure out how to approach it. "The shop isn't too busy, what would you say to having a cup of coffee with me?" He mustered up the courage to ask you, his gaze almost burning into your soul as he waited for an answer. He hoped that he wouldn't push you away with this sudden offer, hoping that it hadn't been too forward on his part. He'd meant for it as a friendly outing for you to relax a while, but he wouldn't be able to deny the fact that he was already thinking of how to ask you on a date.

You looked around the shop to find that it was indeed empty, only a couple people talking amongst themselves left. Even if someone walked in, you had another employee that would be able to assist them. "Sure, let me just go hang up my apron and I’ll go join you," you finally spoke up after taking a couple seconds to consider, turning around to mask the excitement threatening to overcome your body. You slid off your apron and set it to the side, getting yourself a cup of coffee before walking over to the booth Miguel was sitting at. It almost felt ridiculous to admit to yourself that you were able to now find him in every room that he stepped in with ease.

"How long have you been a baker for?" He asked you after taking a bite of his concha, wiping away the crumbs that lingered onto his white shirt. "I've been baking for some time now, since I was in like middle school? I used to practice with an easy bake oven when I was younger before evolving into actually edible things," you shared with him, your eyes practically lighting up at the prospect of getting to talk about something that meant a lot to you. Conversation flowed easily enough between the two of you, an exchange of questions being asked from both sides.

You looked up over to the door when you heard the bell ringing, the second wave of customers walking in. As much as you would've liked to continue talking with him, you knew that your one employee wouldn't be able to handle the rush by themselves. "It was lovely talking to you. but I have to get going back to work," you stood up from the table as you spoke, grabbing the empty cup of coffee. Before you got the chance to walk away though, Miguel wrapped his arm around your wrist. Not tight enough for it to hurt, but certainty enough for it to make you stop in your tracks.

"I want to go on a date with you. I'd really like to keep talking with you, if that's something you wanted," he told you, his grip around your wrist loosening before eventually letting go. You grabbed a napkin from the corner of the table and a pen from your pocket, hastily scribbling out your number on it. "Just text me and we can work something out. I want to keep talking to you too," you responded before you went back to work, though your mind wasn't too much on the baked goods as much as it was on Miguel for the rest of the evening.

Your first date with Miguel was something that you'd never forget, the way he looked over at you every time you had something to share about yourself or the way that he let some of his walls down to let you pass through. But the way that his lips felt against yours was the most memorable part of the evening, your apartment lights just illuminating enough for you to make out the shape of his face. Every date following that one was a moment of absolute bliss, time seeming to stop whenever you two were together.

You were at the dining table when he came back from work, your brows furrowed in concentration as you mixed the bowl in your hands. The sweet aroma of vanilla reminded him that he was home again. The light at the end of a tunnel. it almost got him out of the mood that he was in. Almost. The exhaustion and annoyance from the day managed to maintain their claws on him, his footsteps trudging up the stairs as he went to change. He deactivated his suit, pulling a pair of grey sweatpants and a black tee over himself before going back downstairs.

You'd heard the door open but you were surprised to find that Miguel didn't bother to greet you the same way he used to. 'Cariño, ya llegue,' he'd say after a long day at work, (honey i’m home) Usually taking a seat across from you at the dining table just to hear you talk about your day. You figured that he just needed some space, that he'd come to you if he wanted that sense of intimacy from you again. You busied yourself with mixing in the dry ingredients along with the wet ones, almost ready to put the batter in the oven.

"Missed you so bad, hermosura," you heard from behind you, large arms wrapping around your stomach while his head rested on your shoulder. You were about to tell him that the sentiment was mutual when you felt his hands making their way up to your breasts, kneading them in his hands. He let out a contented sigh as he felt your body mold underneath his hands, having you turn into putty at just the smallest touch. He'd never been this touchy with you before, well he'd never been the one to start off this type of contact.

As much as he liked the feeling of your lips molding against his, the feeling of having your body pressed against him with every hug that he gave you, he never asked for it. He was just.. too shy to even try to start it off. He figured that it would come off as something weird, that his inexperience towards having intimate moments would be shed into the light. He knew that you wouldn't make fun of him for that, but a part of him couldn't help but be wary. He usually just tended to wait until you came up to him, wrapping your arms around him as you sought out for the comfort that only he could provide.

You felt your body being ignited into flames from the way he was touching, your body a manual that he had read thousands of times before. He knew everything that would turn your little head off to anything other than him. You didn't want to stop him now that he was feeling comfortable enough to initiate contact with you, but you'd almost mixed in a spoonful of salt rather than sugar. You willed yourself to finish up with the batter, your hands shaking as you brought the electric mixer down to the bowl.

"Miguel, lemme focus on finishing up with this batch and we can do whatever you want after that," you tried to negotiate with him, the plea landing on deaf ears as his hands travelled down to the expanse of your ass. Your back was arching instinctively, reacting solely to his commands. Sometimes it felt like he had more control of your body than you ever did, every little thing that he did serving a purpose to arouse you even further. He squeezed gently, his hands coming up to rest on your hips as he nestled his head into the crook of your shoulder.

"Don't let me interrupt you. Sigue con tus pastelitos e ignora mis caricias," his voice dropped about an octave as he spoke, his lips dangerously close to your ear. (keep at it with your cupcakes and ignore my caresses) Surely he must've known that what he was telling you to do was pointless. He knew the effect that he had on your body, knows the effect that he's having on you at this moment. You let out a small sigh of relief once the batter had finished mixing in, pouring it in slowly into the pan. You stepped off to the side, putting the pan inside the oven before turning to face Miguel.

"Let me just have your thighs, I won't ask for more," he murmured, his hands coming down to your thighs while his thumbs rubbed small circles on them. At your approval, he went over and sat down at the dining table, his legs spreading to give you access to sit down. He looked like a king sitting down on his throne, his large thighs taking up most of the space on the chair. Almost like he demanded respect. His thighs flexed with every movement, your legs moving on their own accord to get closer to him.

"You have approximately," you started off, your eyes shifting over to the small clock on the kitchen counter, "ten minutes." He let out a small chuckle, lifting his hips up to slide his sweatpants just underneath his balls. He'd made it a habit of going commando underneath his suit, the habit following into his daily attire as well. His cock was already starting to leak precum onto his stomach despite the fact you two hadn't done anything too extreme yet. "That's okay. I only needed nine anyways."

You sat down in between his legs, squeezing your thighs together while the tip of his cock prodded at the underside of your legs. You felt the chair creaking underneath you as he thrusted his hips into your thighs. "Would've done this sooner if I would've known it felt this good. Love your thighs so much, mami," despite the fact that he tried to keep up with his dominant persona, he would do anything if it meant he got to have you like this again.

His hands travelled up his your shirt, rolling your nipples in between his fingers. Your back was flush against his chest as your mouth slightly opened, heavy breaths escaping from your lips. His slick coated the insides of your thighs, wetting them in his essence. Your hand went down to where the tip of his cock was poking through, your thumb rubbing small circles alongside the tip.

"Close your legs a little more for me mami."

"Yeah, just like that," he managed to get out through labored breaths, your thighs squeezing his cock in a similar way that your pussy would. You felt his mouth making its way down your throat, nibbling on the sensitive spots that would have you squirming. His touch was everywhere except for where you needed him the most, your desperation towards the situation growing even further. For someone who'd only agreed to thigh fucking, you seemed to be regretting it already.

You felt your slick leaking down from your folds down to the thin material of your panties, one of your hands reaching down to alleviate the tension building inside you. You hadn't even managed to make it to the waistband before Miguel was already pulling your fingers away, holding it with his other hand. "So greedy. Only I'm allowed to please that little pussy, remember," he warned you, though his voice carried no actual sense of danger to it given how needy he sounded. He made it a point to be the only one to please you, not your own fingers and certainly not anybody else's fingers.

He was rutting into your thighs at an erratic pace, no sense of stability as he felt his balls start to tighten up with every second that your warm thighs enveloped him. That was until he heard the loud 'RING' from the countertop. "No te pares. I'm almost there," he tried to speak over the sound of the timer's ring but you were already standing up by the time he'd finished speaking. (don’t stand up) You wiped away the sweat that accumulated on your forehead, taking a couple deep breaths to get your breathing back to normal. "What happened to only needing nine minutes?"

He let out a small huff as he pulled his sweatpants back on, staying seated at the dinner table. Miguel wanted nothing more than to take you right now, but he was willing to be patient for a couple more minutes. You bent over to take the cupcakes out of the oven, the scent of vanilla hitting your nose instantly. You almost jumped at the feeling of miguel's hands rubbing your ass through your panties if it hadn't been for the fact you had a hot pan in your hands. You placed the pan down, taking the cupcakes out of it and setting them on a plate to get them ready for the frosting portion.

"Ah fuck," you trembled out as you felt Miguel's breath fan against your wet cunt, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sensation. "Already so wet and I haven't even touched her yet," he murmured, spreading your folds with two of his fingers. He let a globe of spit trail from your ass down to your cunt, feeling his cock strain against his sweatpants. He could feel your clit pulsing underneath his fingertips, your body betraying you when you said you wanted to wait. You wanted this as much as he did. If not, maybe even more.

You pushed your hips back onto his face as he pushed his tongue into your wet cunt, feeling your slick coat every single one of his tastebuds at the contact. He knew how proud you were of the baked goods you made, but none of them would ever compare to the taste of your essence. The frosting on the cupcakes started to come out lopsided as you tried to squeeze it on, your hands shaking every time you tried to bring the pipe up to them. "Don't stop," you moaned out, eventually just giving up on the task of trying to keep frosting the cupcakes. The perfectionist in you couldn't stand seeing the sight of the uneven plaster of frosting.

Miguel ate out your cunt like he was a starving man, the task messy as he spat into it and pushed his tongue inside you. Your slick mixed with his spit, the taste of you almost making him delirious. You gripped the countertop tightly, your eyes fluttered shut as you basked in everything that Miguel was giving you. His tongue swirled around your clit in small circles, the sudden stimulation having your toes curling and your eyes seeing stars. You turned around to look at him, your slick coating majority of his chin while some of it dribbled down to his shirt. His eyes were tightly shut as he focused on the task at hand, almost seeming more into it than you were.

You brought your hand up to his hair, tugging at the roots as you pushed him closed to your pussy. He'd vocalized before about how much he liked the mixture of pain and pleasure, a moan vibrating into your cunt as a response. You felt yourself getting closer to that climax, Miguel’s tongue continuing its motions on your clit while his thick fingers opened you up to take his cock later on. You let out an exasperated sigh when you felt him pull away from you just as you were about to cum, though that was quickly shut down when he pressed his lips onto yours.

You got down on your knees, wet kisses marking his tan skin as you made your way down his stomach. You looked over at him, the sight in front of you truly something to behold. His head was lolled back, half-lidded eyes as he met your gaze. His chest heaved with every breath that he took, growing heavier as he felt your lips starting to make their way down his happy trail. He'd stopped bothering to shave it after noticing how much you liked it, the way you licked your lips every time his sweatpants clung a little too low on his hips.

Though his cock was twitching with need right in front of you, painfully erect, you decided to take your time. You kissed his inner thighs, occasionally marking him the same way he'd do to you. Your fingernails raked their way down his thighs, the muscles tensing underneath your touch. You wanted to tease him just as much as he'd teased you earlier, wanting some type of comeback after your ruined orgasm. You delivered a couple more kisses before making your way to his cock, pressing a kiss on the reddened tip.

“Hand me that bag of frosting, please," your voice came out uncharacteristically seductive to your own ears. You'd grown so used to being the sweet girl at the bakery that you hadn't expected yourself to even be a seductress. Miguel reached over to grab the pipe with vanilla frosting inside, handing it over to you. You squirted a little bit of the frosting onto his shaft, setting the pipe aside before leaning in. Your mouth wrapped around his cock, your tongue licking the stripe of frosting up before pulling away. "Think you're gonna kill me, little minx."

Miguel's hands went down to the sides of your head as you took him in your throat, soft moans escaping from his lips. Spit dribbled down the side of his shaft, your hand wrapping around it as you worked it up and down. Though your hand was smaller than his, he enjoyed the feeling of having you jerk him off. Your touch felt more delicate than his own, which tended to be a series of harsh thrusts just to get a quick orgasm. Your mouth came down to his cock again, taking him in much deeper than last time.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock to make up for what your mouth couldn't reach, both working in tandem. Your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take him in deeper, willing the muscles in your throat to relax while you did so. "That's it, taking me so well. Nadie me lo chupa mejor que tu," he praised you as you bobbed your head up and down his cock, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth.

As much as he wanted to cum inside your mouth and see the way that you struggled to sometimes keep his heavy load inside, he wanted nothing more than to cum inside your pussy beforehand. He pulled you off as the height of his peak, watching your eyes flicker over to his in confusion. You were pretty sure you were doing everything that he wanted you to do from his reactions, the way his moans just so freely escaped from his mouth.

"You didn't do anything wrong. just want to cum inside you before anything else," he assured you after seeing the expression of your face, helping you up from the floor. He wiped away the precum mixed in with your spit from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, holding it against your lips. He watched as your tongue darted out before enveloping his finger into your mouth. The way your tongue wrapped around it was heavenly, your eyes shutting as you cleaned off his finger.

Miguel went over to the sink and ran a paper towel under cold water, cleaning any remnants of the frosting that might've been left behind. The last thing the both of you needed was for you to get a UTI as a result from this encounter. He came back over to you, kissing your cheek and muttering some apology about the cupcakes. Not that you cared about them anyways, all you could think about was Miguel having his way with you. He grabbed your hand and intertwined with his, leading you out of the kitchen and out into the living room.

Miguel led you over to the couch, raising your knees up to your chest. You placed your hands underneath your legs, watching as Miguel gave himself a couple languid strokes before slowly pushing his cock inside. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned out as he felt your walls fluttering against him, your cunt stretching to adjust to him. Your mouth was parted in a 'o' shape as he pushed his cock even further, your wetness coating his shaft with every delicious inch that he pushed inside.

He loved looking down at you in this position, at how your face contorted into one of pleasure as the sting from the stretch settled in. The way that your tits bounced in sync with every single one of his punishing thrusts. He loved every single part of you, even the parts that you found yourself complaining about at times. He wanted to drill into your head that you were desire embodied, that nobody would be able to compare to the way that you do. No one was even close to comparing to you in his eyes.

Your body was basically bent in half as you laid there to take every single inch that he had to offer, the tip of his cock bulging against your tummy. "Feel how deep I am in you, mami?" He murmured, pressing his hand down where he was at before retreating his cock in one swift motion. The loss was quickly replaced when he thrusted back inside you, relishing the feeling of your walls clenching around him like a vice.

His heavy balls smacked against your ass with every thrust that he made, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the otherwise empty apartment. The loud squelch of your essence coating his cock added onto the symphony of sounds, moans escaping from the two of you as he started to get deeper with his thrusts. You felt filled up to the brim, yet it almost felt like you weren't getting enough. The desire you felt for Miguel wasn't something that was easily satiated, if anything it only grew more with the attention that he was giving you.

The hand that wasn't holding your legs came over to his arm, gripping it tightly for some kind of thing to tether you down to the moment. Your pussy clamped around him a vice, prompting him closer to his orgasm. He prolonged it as long as he could, reciting useless science facts inside of his head. An octopus has three hearts. Though his stamina was high enough to get hard after his orgasm, he didn't want to ruin the moment between the two of you by cumming prematurely.

One of his hands went down to your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves between his thumb and pointer finger. He rubbed small circles on it, his speed matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Your nails dug into his forearm the harder that his thrusts got, the pain only serving to accentuate his pleasure. "Fuck. Pussy's practically milking me," he uttered, his voice coming out in a groan at the way you were squeezing around him.

Your legs dropped down from your chest, wrapping around his legs as you held him close to you. If he'd even fathomed the idea of pulling out beforehand, the idea was quickly removed from the forefront of his brain the moment you did that. "Cum in me, please," your voice came out whiny as you felt yourself getting closer to that release, your toes curling from every rub being given to your clit. "Cum with me."

His hand enveloped yours as he slid in and out of you with ease, his pace having no rhythm now that he was approaching his orgasm. His thrusts were erratic as he worked the two of you towards that cliff, his fingers gripping yours tightly as if you were a lifeline. Warm ropes of cum shot up your cunt, your walls coated in white up to the brim. His orgasm had prompted your own, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you creamed over his shaft.

Your release mixed with his to form a creamy ring around the base of his cock, some of the liquid leaking out from your cunt. He stuffed it back in with the tip of his cock to the best of his ability, a moan escaping from your throat at the feeling of him sliding in once more. While you could usually match his stamina pretty well, it'd been days since you'd last had sex with him. You were starting to feel worn out from the physical strain he'd put your body through. You wouldn’t change this feeling of euphoria for anything else though.

Miguel slid his softening cock out of your cunt slowly, careful not to overstimulate you in the process. He leaned over and pressed a kiss on your forehead, wiping away the sweat from your forehead. "You did so good for me, lindura," he whispered in your ear, stroking your thighs in soft circles before standing up from the couch. "Stay there and I'll come back with some clothes."

You looked over at him and gave him a nod, your body falling limp on the couch as you felt an ache forming on your legs. You closed your eyes for a second, or what you'd assumed was a second, only to open them to see Miguel standing over you with a pair of pajama shirts and one of his t-shirts. "Try to sit up for me. You don't have to anything," he reassured you, getting to work on cleaning you up before dressing you after you'd sat up.

The two of you sat on the couch with a cheesy romance movie the two of you weren't watching, each holding a cupcake. His hand wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close to his body as his hand lazily drew circles on the side of your stomach. "I see why you liked that thing with the frosting. It's pretty sweet," he noted after taking a bite from his cupcake, leaning over to grab some that was sitting on your nose for a while. You let out a small contented laugh, poking the side of his cheek. There was no other place that you'd rather be other than his arms at this moment.

taglist 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @yournextbimbogf @nixinluv02

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gz-missfit · 9 months

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So... I want to talk about this clip.

There's always been this joke amongst the crows that Phil's bird instincts cause him to perch a lot and in his playstyle that's something that just makes sense. It helps him be safe from threats while also getting a good view over the situation so he can come up with the best plan to deal with it.

Now why is this the time where I want to bring this up? Because Phil doesn't have a reason to perch technically. The room is small enough that he could easily see it all from the ground and he's not getting swarmed nor is there any direct threat so why did he perch as soon as forever left?

Cause he's cautious, anxious and scared. He already had a gun pointed at him mere moments ago, he's watching a good friend of him fall apart without him being able to do anything about it and he is unsure of what to do because one wrong step could be disastrous.

Perching is Phil's way to assess a situation, to analyze it and to find a good way to deal with whatever is happening at hand, this obviously doesn't work when the threat isn't necessarily physically but mentally. But it still gives him that same sense of comfort.

Perching means safety. It means analyzing. It means caution. And most importantly it's a sign of worry.

There's a reason why he instantly jumped to the ground as soon as Forever came back, Phil didn't want him to know how worried and scared Phil was. Phil knew he had to keep some type of front up, so this was the closest he got to showing how he truly felt down in forevers base

#qsmp #qsmp philza #character analysis #void mumbling #just bird man things BRRRRRRR

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leclerc-hs · 6 months

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lucky - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: in which you and your childhood best friend, are most definitely in love, but it's too complicated. Warnings: BAD FRENCH??? (I don't speak French...please correct me so I can make some edits!!! Would be greatly appreciated), angst!!!!!, no smut but maybe if I make a part 2? Word Count: 1,332 Author's Note: I'm thinking I want to make another part to this maybe??? Idk what do we think. It was just a random thought that came to mind. I didn't edit or proofread. Please fix my French if you can!!! xo UPDATED FRENCH: edits thanks to @dannyramirezwife!!!! PART 2 BONUS

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Ah, merde!" You exclaimed, dashing up the stairs of your apartment building. As usual, you were running late, but this time it was for your own dinner party. Your hands were full, and the constant vibration of your phone in your coat pocket suggested your friends were wondering were you were.

In the home stretch, you reached your door, ready to unlock it. To your confusion, the door swung wide open just as you approached. Charles leaned against the frame, a hand towel casually slung over his shoulder, like he owned the place.

"Où étais-tu tout ce temps-là, Lucky?" Where have you been all this time? Lucky. Your childhood nickname. His lucky charm. It warmed your heart to hear.

His eyebrows were scrunched as you stepped through the doorway, brushing past his shoulder and into the living room where all your friends sat chatting loudly. A small speaker played music in the background softly while your friends all chatted and laughed. It took a moment for them to notice your arrival.

"She's here!" "Mon dieu, finally." "I am so hungry." echoed through the room as your friends expressed their relief and hunger. Their flushed cheeks suggested they had indulged in heaps of wine while waiting for your arrival.

"See Charles, no need to have an aneurysm. I knew she would show up soon," Joris teased, winking in your direction before casting a glance over your shoulder. No doubt, Charles towering over your frame behind you.

"Je suis désolé," I'm sorry. You apologized repeatedly, sensing the tension. After urging everyone into the dining room with a wave, you added, "Sit, please," prompting your friends to take their seats. You hurried into the kitchen, dropping your bags by the kitchen table.

"Où étais-tu?" Where were you? You felt his hands on your hips as you opened the wine fridge to grab more bottles of wine for the table.

Butterflies. The warmth of his hands made your stomach flutter.

"Got caught up at work and missed the bus," You explained in a huff. "I had to walk all the way back here."

His hands tightened on your waist, turning you around to face him. His eyes were darker than normal, eyebrows still furrowed. "Mon dieu! Why didn't you call me?" My God. He seemed frustrated even more so now. The tone in his voice was rather sharp. "It's freezing outside."

"Ca va, Cha." I am fine. You reassured him, gently moving away from his embrace. You carried the bottles into the dining room and placed them on the table. Charles following, a large pasta dish in hand for the table that everyone immediately dug into as soon as it hit the table.

As the guests eagerly dug into the meal, you settled into your seat, intending to fill your wine glass. However, Charles beat you to it, taking the last seat beside you and topping off your glass, his actions notably conspicuous.

The dynamic between you and Charles was far from straight-forward. Best friends since childhood, who also hook up, who also don't tell their friends about it? It was complex for sure.

You both didn't look at it as an exclusive thing either though. You both go on your fair share of dates. More Charles than you. Yours never went further than a few dates for fun.

Since Charles and his ex-girlfriend last broke up, he has been more needy and more possessive of you. You figured he would get back together with her at some point, like he always did. It was just a ticking time bomb at this point. You, counting down the days until he takes her back.

"Hot date?" You heard Arthur ask from across the table, winking at you. "How was it?" You felt Charles hand slip to your thigh under the table, gripping it tightly.

You truly were coming from work tonight. But you did have a date last night. One that you didn't need Charles to hear about.

"Non," No. You felt your cheeks redden, a dead giveaway that you in fact did go on a date. "I got stuck at work, imbécile," you stuck your tongue out playfully at Arthur. Everyone laughing immediately, except Charles.

Charles squeezed your thigh again, clearly wanting your attention. You turn your head to him giving him a pointed look. Saying stop. Saying please wait until later. He understood, slipping his hand off of your thigh and faking a smile for the table as he falls into conversation with the rest of the table.

After a few hours, with everyone in a cheerful state of inebriation and satisfied bellies, the apartment was finally cleaned up and emptied. The lively chatter had faded away, leaving behind a quiet space. The only person lingering was Charles, sprawled comfortably on your couch, waiting.

You weren't privy to the excuse he had given to avoid going home with the others, but at the moment, you didn't care. No one seemed to question or pay much attention to him staying behind, as if it were a routine occurrence.

"Qui c'est?" Who is it? He sat like he was on his throne. Except it was your couch. Looking at you, like you owed him every explanation.

"Cha, s'il te plaît," please.

You could feel him getting more frustrated by the minute. You loved him to death. He was your best friend. Your person. You fought like siblings sometimes. But, you also fought like lovers.

You didn't want to get into who you were going on dates with. It was casual. Just for fun. It's not like Charles is officially yours.

"Non, dis-moi." No, tell me. You noticed him clench his hand into a fist just slightly.

"It was just a date, no one important." You waved him off. Taking a seat beside him on the couch. Silence followed. As if he was lost in his own head.

"Merci," you thanked him. For setting up dinner. He is the only other person with a key to your place after all.

His eyes flicked from you to the TV. He couldn't look at you while he said these next words.

"I don't want you to date."

It was unfair. And he knew it too. Which is why he couldn't look you in the eyes as he said it. He doesn't deserve to tell you that. He doesn't deserve to feel this way.

You let out a loud sigh, "Cha. You can't say things like that." You wanted to cry honestly. "Let's keep this simple, oui?"

You both were too blind. Blind to see that no one else would ever make you happier. But, you both were too scared to fully commit. Because you knew once you did, that was it. There could be nobody after you. There could be nobody after him.

"J'en ai marre," I'm sick of it. You felt him stand up from the couch. He was now pacing in front of you, the sound of the TV barely heard as he raised his voice. "J'en suis malade de mentir," I am so sick of lying.

You knew what he meant. You felt that way too. But it wasn't time. You both weren't ready to make it official. It was too scary.

"Assez!" Enough. You exclaimed. You couldn't handle this right now.

"Just go home," you felt shut down. You were not ready for this conversation. You knew Charles patience was wearing thin. But it was unfair. Just because he thinks he is finally ready, does not mean you need to be.

Charles felt as if he could rip out all of his hair. He wanted to pound his fists all over the place, just to get you to give him something. You were completely shut down. He wanted a reaction. He wanted a confession. Nothing you would provide at the moment.

"C'est pas croyable ça," Unbelievable. He said bitterly with a small laugh. "Have fun on your dates."

And with that, he was out the door. Slamming it hard enough that the walls of your apartment shook.

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagines #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #lucky

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dustteller · 1 year

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Something I haven't seen people talk about with the new spiderverse movie is just how puertorrican Miles and Rio are.

For background, I'm puertorrican from the island, and I just watched Across the Spiderverse in a theater here, and let me tell you, the people in the theater freaked out whenever these little details came on. It is so clear to all of us how much care went into portraying every single detail.

You guys don't understand how important all of this is to me.

At the party, when everyone started greeting miles in spanish? I've had all those phrases said to me. All of those people had my accent. They weren't a different flavor of hispanic just because finding some puertorricans was too hard. They were all so very puertorrican that it almost hurt.

But even that can be a bit easier to portray. Sure, they all had puertorrican accents, but everything they said is pretty run of the mill for hispanic people. And then I saw the food. I remember the asopao most clearly, because it was just on screen for a few seconds, and my friend started whisper screaming "Pasteles, pasteles!!" into my ear. It was such a tiny thing, but the food was ours, and not cuban, and not dominican. We never get to see our food done right, because no one cares. People just use dominican food and go "close enough."

And when Miles and his parents are talking about spiderman and Rio says that Spiderman is puertorrican?? That's such a puertorrican thing to do. People here are so incredibly proud of our island and our people that I personally know so many people that have gone to see Lin Manuel Miranda shows while having zero interest in musical theater because he's one of us. It makes so much sense that Rio would celebrate that, and when Miles immediately tries to deflect by saying spuderman sounds more dominican? That's peak comedy. Everyone in the theater burst out laughing, and that joke works precisely because the movie doesn't treat us as interchangeable.

And finally, Rio herself. The way all the characters move is so incredibly unique and mesmerizing, but Rio? My girl feels with her mouth. Her expressions were so spot on, with the lips making up so much of the emotions. Puertorricans use our lips a lot when expressing how we feel, and its such a tiny, inconsequential detail, but it means the world to me. So many people in the creative team cared so much for all these little details to make their way in. They really didn't have to, but they did, and I just really appreciate that.

Also, fun fact, I watched it in english with spanish subs (the subs are for the spanish dubbed version, not a direct translation), and when Rio says "I bet she doesn't even know spanish" about Gwen, in spanish it's "I bet she doesn't even know where Puerto Rico is" and that was very funny and I laughed my ass off when I noticed that's what they translated it as.

#miles morales #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #rio morales #my thoughts

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mechaknight-98 · 3 months

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A Train to Busan (NSFW) FT Chaehyun

Author note: So I remember reading a prompt somewhere about 3 Busty Busan Beauties and this was the first that came to mind probably going to make this a mini-series so stay tuned for more. Shoutout to @leafostuff for the idea

Part II

I grab my ticket to ride the train. I loved trains ever since I was a kid and the super train on Lightspeed Rescue flew into the skies I knew I was hooked (iykyk) so I made a point of taking every “famous train” in the world today trip. A train to Busan Korea. As per usual I get weird looks and glares due to my stature and appearance.

I sit down in my seat enthusiastic and ready to begin the ride. As the train fills up the three seats around me are taken by 3 pretty ladies. In front of me was a Pretty blonde who radiated a happy energy that was almost suffocating, diagonal left a pretty brunette with a smile that curved into a half moon, and directly to the left of me was a smaller brunette with a determined look. They all politely greet me and I reciprocate of course. Their names are Jeewon (in front of me), Hayoung (diagonal Left), and Chaehyun (Direct left)

"Nice to meet you all. My name is Dinovaldo, but everyone calls me Dino"

"Dinopaldo?" Hayoung says cutely. I was going to correct her then I remembered my friend who was also Korean complained about how "Complicated my name was." so I nodded and said,

"Yeah, but call me Dino." Hayoung and Jeewon smile. Chaehyun looks at me with a focused and determined look.

"So what brings you to Busan?" Chaehyun asked as the train moved.

"Oh, I like trains and try to ride as many "famous" ones as I can," I replied. the three girls looked at me surprised but didn't say anything else. Chaehyun let out a chuckle and I went back to enjoying the ride.

A little later Chaehyun asked me, "Hey so where are you from Originally?"

"Um...Portland, Oregon. No, you wouldn't know that... The United States." I answer Chaehyun. She nods and chuckles as do Hayoung and Jeewon.

"What about y'all? Where Y'all from?" I ask

"Oh, we're all from Busan," Jeewon answers confidently. I nod now dialed into the conversation.

"How long are you in Korea for?" Hayoung asks

"Oh, a few weeks for some business in Seoul. I finished yesterday so now my last week I am just enjoying it. You know seeing the rest of the country." I replied. I noticed that Jeewon and Hayoung were starting to warm up to me and being more involved.

"Oh, that's cool," Hayoung said. I gave her a thumbs-up as we continued to chat. I learn a lot about the girls. they were all K-pop idols (whatever that meant) who were going home to visit family and just relax as their schedules had all eased up for the time being. They were all incredibly charming but also kinda dorky in an extremely lovable and endearing way. As we talked I could feel myself being lulled into a state of ease by the three girls. it worried me. They were almost too perfect, too sweet, and too engaging, so I kept my vigilance as I continued to talk to them.

While we rode the train we enjoyed each other's company until Chaehyun (the boldest of the trio) asked, "Hey I noticed you keep looking over your shoulder. Are you worried you are being tricked?" I instantly tensed and then eased again. seeing her pleasant smile

"Yeah, a little it's not often three pretty ladies just come up and talk to me. Especially for so long." I reply.

Jeewon perks up, "Aww thank you. Well, you're cool to talk to. Plus you aren't treating us any different."

"Well, I thought you were all normal ladies," I replied hesitantly

"No," Hayoung says with a cute but also aggressive tone. she takes out her phone and starts playing a video of her performing at Inkigayo along with seven other young ladies. I watched in awe as I could see it was Hayoung but her presence was so different. gone was the goofy girl who sitting across from me the Hayoung I was watching was graceful poised, with an almost deadly sense of presence I had only seen replicated in assassins. it was unnerving but also captivating. when the video finished the other ladies all showed similar videos. Each showed me a bit more about them. Jeewon is super bubbly and happy in her video and Chahyun’s video shows her range. I see a huge range of her personality but it always comes back to the determined look. That look of desire. After that, we hit the third hour of the trip and fatigue began to set in. All of us started to get heavy eyelids and one by one each of us fell asleep. I was the last one and got to see Chaehyun's head fall onto my shoulder as she was talking about how hard being the "unofficial" leader of her group was. I couldn't help but smile at her plight. her pleading eyes but strong voice made me listen and consider her words with the utmost seriousness. something she noted

"you're a really good listener," she said as her eyes fluttered as they got heavier. A telltale sign she was losing the fight with her fatigue.

"Well in my profession being a keen observer is always a requirement," I answer politely

"Oh and what do you do Mr. Mysterious?"

Chaehyun teased

"It's a secret." I teased

"Oh come on please tell me," Chaehyun asked with pleading and endearing aggression

when she did fall asleep I found myself stroking her hair carefully and her grip on me tightened. I smiled content as I watched the window and the picture continue to move and change. Looking at the other two girls I felt a bizarre pang in my heart. One I hadn't felt in a long time. Usually, I shied away from it, but this time I let the pang linger and ferment into emotion, as a smile crept on my face. Soon my eyes felt heavy and I drifted off as well.

I was woken up by a rapid light shaking of my shoulder. My eyes were forced open as I turned to see Chaehyun who lifted the armrest separating us.

"Hey, Hey wake up," she whispered.

"I'm awake. I am awake, but why are we whispering?" I asked

Chaehyun smiled with heavy desire filling her eyes look water, and said "Follow me to the bathroom."

"Why?" I asked dazed and confused.

"I want to show you why I'm the suction expert," she said as she got up leaving her jacket. I follow on instinct and when we enter the bathroom she locks the door. Thankfully the train car we were in was mostly empty and the few people inside were asleep.

when we entered the bathroom in three actions Chaehyun was on her knees. Lock the door undo my belt and spring out my cock.

"Hm, you're still soft. that won't do," she said before taking me into her mouth. I reeled back as the softness of her lips and the warmth wetness of her mouth overwhelmed me leaving me light-headed.

"Go ahead fuck my face," she said

I nod and begin to thrust into her warm wet orifice. her eyes held mine in an intense gaze that left me transfixed as I grabbed her head and thoroughly used her. After six or so thrusts she breaks taps my thigh and I pull back.

"Okay you're going to go," she says as she gets up wiping the drool from her chin before it could stain her shirt. She undid her pants and moved to the side. before she could give further instruction the intercom said

"30 minutes to Busan" I am assuming it said it in other languages as well but I heard English in there as well.

"We don't have much time so you're going to have to be quick. so just pound me, Dino." Chaehyun insists as she lines my cock with her pussy. I slowly ease in and we both moan as her sex sucks mine in whole. it's dizzying, it's hot, and wet but oh my goodness does it feel euphoric. I bottom out inside her and begin to pull out. I get halfway before plunging back into her. I repeat this two or three times increasing the pace until my body begins to override my mind and I begin to plow her in earnest. she leans her body into mine and says, "You're so big inside me." her words act like a spur to a wild buck and make me only rougher with her. I relax my grip on her waist and stroke a finger across her pillow midriff, and I whisper into her ear

"I love how soft your body is." I snake my hand under her shirt as I thrust and cop a feel. they are a lot bigger than her sweater lets on. I get a firm grip on her breasts and say, "These sexy buoyant pillows you try to hide drive me wild. I am going to call you Marshmellow from now on because I am in love with how soft and plush your body is." my words have their desired effect "I think" as I feel her pussy tighten and pulse as she turns her face to mine.

"Fuck, Fuck" she pants as I continue to piston in and out of her. I tweak her nipple and she moans even harder before I feel a rush of liquid come from between our bodies. I look down to see her squirting all over my cock. I look up to see her embarrassed.

"No No baby it's okay," I reassure my slip of the tongue makes her eyes go wide and she questions me

"Babe?" but at that point I am too far gone and begin tumbling into my orgasm with her.

"Aw fuck mello I'm cumming" I say groaning as I begin to explode into her greedy pussy. Chaehyun moans in ecstasy.

After we come down from our high Chaehyun looks at me with a shy look before cleaning herself up and leaving. Also leaving me to clean up our combined fluid mess. I do so, then make sure I look presentable and head back out. I get back to my seat where Jeewon and Hayoung look at me with knowing and teasing smiles. Chaehyun refused to look or speak to me as Hayoung and Jeewon asked me questions about the ride after they slept. Respecting Mello's boundaries I follow her very limited and guarded answers. leaving the two other girls a little miffed. after the train ride was over I grabbed my bags and bid farewell to the ladies. as I was walking away from them on the station. Chaehyun speaks up for the first time.

"Where do you think you're going, Dino? you're hanging out with us for the rest of the time you're here. so cancel whatever plans you had." Her confidence and desire have returned to her stare and I smile.

"Okay." I acquiesced

#kpop fanfic #kep1er #chaehyun #chaehyun smut #kep1er smut

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norrisleclercf1 · 10 months

Text

Hey Dad

Pairing: Charles x Mom!Reader x Lando

Rating: PG-13

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: major angst, Reader is facing her lies, Elijah is lost and needs answers, Elijah blames you for not having a relationship with his father. Charles drives for RedBull and Lando Mercedes, deal with it

Synopsis: Elijah didn't want to be at the race, he couldn't be around his family right now. He was tired of the lies. Thankfully the biggest lie is there at the race

A/N: Elijah is 15 and Cecile is 11, also this might seem chaotic writing because this is from Elijah's POV so it's his messy mind trying to put everything together

Our Boy Series Masterlist / Our Boy / The Hunt for Fruit/ Together Again

Elijah knew he should've stayed in bed. He should've rolled back over and missed the Monaco GP. That's what he should've done. Instead, Cece came barging into his room without a care in the world and kicked her older brother out of bed. Literally kicked him. Sitting down at breakfast, watching as his Pa dotes on his Dad and Ma, he should've told them he didn't want to go.

But seeing how happy his Pa was at being home and racing in Monaco, held his tongue. Ma would've let him stay when he voiced his dread. This bottomless pit ever since they walked through their apartment doors. Instead, he waved it off and just acted his usual self. Now, here he is in the hot weather feeling this dread grow more and more.

Could this be a sign again? He still remembers when Dad got in his horrible accident. The same feeling was there. He can still remember listening through the radio as he crashed, the screams coming from you. Shaking his head, riding those dark thoughts, he takes several deep breaths. "The hell is wrong with you?" Groaning, he turns his head, looking at the face of his annoyed sister.

"Go away, Cece." Elijah thumps his head on the Mercedes garage, not wanting to talk to anyone. "You're being a dick, have been since you woke up." Her fingers typing fast on her phone, probably texting Uncle Carlos's or Oscar's kids.

"Maybe I wouldn't be a dick if you didn't kick me out of bed." Cece makes a noise, clicking her screen off and looking up. "Please, you've been this way since we arrived. You snapped at Dad last night and barely spoke to Papa or Mama. What's going on with you?" Elijah rips his headphones off, angry for no reason.

"Mind your own business, Cece. You don't need to know everything about me." He snarls, storming out of the garage. "Woah, easy there, Elijah." Running right into his Dad, he rolls his eyes, not even stopping to apologize. "Hey! Get back here, young man!" Lando roars, tired of this attitude. "Make me!" Elijah snaps back, ignoring his Dad's cries, losing him in the crowd.

Elijah pays no mind to where he's going. He can't go to the Red Bull garage. Dad probably already told his Pa and Ma what he did, and Cece is definitely whining to Dad about how Elijah talked to her. It was all a mess. He should've stayed in London with his grandparents. Nothing but anger and confusion coursed through his veins, trying to make sense of everything.

Why was he so angry? He hated acting like this to his family, they loved him so much, and now he's treating them like this? He deserved the worst punishment right now. Shoving his hands in his jeans, he keeps walking, not wanting to stop where anyone would recognize him.

"Elijah?" He stops, hearing the familiar voice of his godfather. "Uncle Lewis." Lewis smiles brightly, pulling the boy into a hug, happy to see him here. "What are you doing all the way down here? Shouldn't you be with your Dad or Pa?" Lewis pats his back while Elijah just shrugs.

"I got in a fight with Cece and snapped at Dad. So I'm avoiding." Lewis sighs, seeing the turmoil that, at 16, Elijah shouldn't be going through.

"Come on, let's talk over here." Lewis directs Elijah over to a private lounge. "Talk to me, what's going on?" Elijah stares at Lewis, holding back. "I won't tell your parents. I swear." The young boy pulls at his hair, Lewis watching as his godson battles with himself. "I found something that Ma has been hiding." Lewis sits up straight, clearing his throat. "Oh." Elijah nods, looking away.

"My father....he's been writing to me since I was born. 3 or 4 letters a month for 16 years. I found the letters while I was looking for my birth certificate. Needed it for the contract I was going to sign with Prema." Elijah wrung his fingers, unsure how Lewis was going to take this. "Elijah, don't tell your mother that you know." Head snapping up, Elijah stares at Lewis, shocked. "What?" Voice turning hard startled that Lewis was suggesting this.

"Don't tell your mother anything. I'm serious. Some things need to stay buried. This is one of them." Lewis reaches for Elijah, but he yanks back. "Oh my god, you knew. You knew that my father was sending me letters? Uncle Lewis, please tell me." How could the man before him, someone he respected, hide this from him.

Elijah told him everything. "Yes, I knew. But Elijah, there is a reason your mother has kept this from you. Don't go prying." Standing, he starts to pace, figuring out his thoughts and what to ask next.

"I know who my father is. I've always known. He's my father, Uncle Lewis. I deserved to have a relationship with him. Yet you and Ma have kept this from me? Why? I need answers." This was the real problem. Elijah started to feel this way when Cece found out which one was her father.

He began to dig, and he dug deep, finding everything out. He was ready to confront his Ma, but something stopped him. Putting everything back and hiding the letters locking away this knowledge.

"Elijah, your mother has her reasons. Just respect that." Lewis begs, trying to reason with the teenager. "No!" Elijah yells, darting out of the lounge and heading for his mother. "God fucking kid." Lewis dialing you, ready to warn you about the incoming storm.

Elijah runs, not looking where he's going, only being stopped when he runs right into a body knocking him to the ground. "Hey, easy there, son. Might hurt someone." Elijah breathes heavily. Looking up, he stops all air sucked out of his lungs. "Dad." Scrambling up, Elijah hugs the person before him, hugging him tight.

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

"What do you mean Elijah knows?" You snap as Lewis tells you everything that just went down. "I mean, Y/n, he knows he's his father, and you hide all the letters. Why would you do that? That boy deserves to know his father." Lewis hisses while you pace, trying to not overthink. "No, he doesn't; that bastard left me, Lewis. When I told him I was pregnant, he just left. He has no right to my son." Whispering as a mechanic walks past.

"Please, that excuse might've worked when Elijah was still a toddler. But he's 16 and wants to know his father. He still has parental rights over Elijah, doesn't he?" You freeze, eyes growing wide as you bite your nails. "Yes, yes, but I lied. I told Charles and Lando that he signed them away." Lewis throws his hands up, letting out an empty laugh. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Blinking fast, you try hard to remain composed as you can't let the cameras or anyone see you like this.

"Don't judge me, Lewis. You helped." Waving his hand, Lewis turns away. "No, don't drag me into this. I didn't lie about parental rights. That's all you. I only helped because....because you're family." The two of you stare at one another, everything you hide coming to smack you in the face.

"He's going to hate me for the rest of his life. He'll never forgive me." Covering your mouth, you see Lando and Charles make their way towards you, clearly unhappy and Cecile worried. "Yeah, you might want to worry about those two before Elijah." Lewis waved at Lando and Charles, who smiled back.

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

"Dad." Elijah's arms tighten around the man before him while the guy pats his back awkwardly. "Um, hey, listen. I'm not your Dad." Elijah pulls back, staring into the same blue eyes. "No, no, you are. My name is Elijah Norris-Leclerc. My mother's name is Y/N L/N. Almost 17 years ago, she gave birth to me." Elijah rambles, the guy looking him up and down.

"Elijah? Your name is Elijah? And your mother's name is Y/n L/n?" He repeats back, trying to control that hope building in his chest. "Yes! And you're my father! You're Nico Rosberg, and you're my father." Nico laughs, grabbing onto Elijah and yanking him into his chest. "That's right, that's right." Nico and Elijah hug before Elijah pulls away. "I didn't know about the letters. If I did, I would've written back." Nico smiles, patting his hair down.

"Elijah, calm down. Does your mother even know?" Elijah makes a face, feeling that anger boiling up again. "Who cares if she knows! She's been lying to me for years." Nico sighs, he wants to be so happy to hold his son, but he still needs to respect those boundaries.

"Elijah, I think you need to go back to your mother. She must decide when the time is right, not now." Nico didn't want to make things worse. He has been working so hard to get Elijah in his life, but you refused but slowly started to give him minor updates.

"No, no. What? You don't want me now? Ma lies to me about everything; Cece gets to know her true father; why is it I can't? Is there something about me that is so easy to leave? To not want?" Elijah cries, those feelings breaking free. Nico reaches for him, but Elijah steps back. "Of course, I want you, but-" Nico stops, eyes growing wide when he sees you running towards them, Charles and Lando behind you.

"Elijah!" He flinches, hearing your voice as you yank him around, checking him over. "Oh, baby, are you okay? Lewis said you just got angry and rushed off, and we've been looking everywhere for you." You cry, spinning him to make sure he isn't hurt.

"Nico, thank you for finding our son." Charles smiles. Elijah and your eyes connect. Slowly you turn, looking right at Nico, Elijah's true father and the man who left you. "Stay the hell away from my son." Standing before Elijah, refusing Nico the privilege to look at your son any longer.

"Your son? Your son?" Elijah steps away from you shaking his head. "I'm not your son. I don't even know who you are." Elijah spits at you, Lando, stepping forward. "Hey! Don't speak to your mother like that." Lando was tired of this disrespect. "Oh shove it, Lando, you're not even my father. He is! Nico is my father." Everyone goes silent, breathing heavily; Elijah wipes his nose.

"You and Charles can act like my fathers, but you're not. I could've known my real father. Instead, my mother hides all his letters and refuses to discuss him! Uncle Lewis even knew Nico was my father and about the letters. What else have you been hiding, huh!?" Elijah yells.

"Elijah James Norris-Leclerc, don't you dare speak to your Dad and Pa like that. You want to be angry at someone. You be angry at me. They're the ones who raised you, not Nico. He's the bastard who left us. Not them. Apologize." You glare at your son, trying to reset the urge to scream at him.

"No. I will not apologize; he left you, Ma, not me. You made him leave me. I read one of the letters. You didn't even give him the chance to be my father." Nico flinches, not wanting to have this conversation right now.

"Y/n? Is this true?" Closing your eyes, you stare into the destroyed eyes of Charles and Lando. "Is, is anything you told us true?" Charles whispers. "Yes, everything she told you is true." Nico steps in, refusing to allow his son's family to break apart.

"Elijah, I did leave your mother and you. I was terrified at the thought of being a father. That's not a lie. I didn't start writing to you until your 6th birthday. I saw Charles's post and just decided to write to you." Laughing, you have the urge to slap Nico.

"Stay out of this, you bastard! You're not a part of my son's life or this family." Elijah rolls his eyes, looking at Lando. Seeing Lando shake, unable to look up, he feels something break in him. "Oh fuck off, Y/n, you're just pissed because all the lies you and Lewis kept from everyone are finally revealed. I'm tired of being the villain in your story; it's time to face that you are the villain." Charles steps up, pushing Nico back from you. "Stop, that is still my wife. Don't you fucking dare speak to her like that."

"Don't touch my father." Elijah steps between, showing Charles's hand off his chest. All hell breaks loose in that moment as you and Elijah yell at each other. Nico yelled at Charles and Lando, standing back and watching everything crumble. "HEY!" The screaming stops as a booming voice breaks through their own screams.

"I come here to watch the historic Monaco GP, see the battle for the WDC between Lando and Charles. Instead, I hear the screaming of toddlers. How shocked am I to find out those voices are my daughter, her scumbag ex, and my grandson. So, someone want to tell me what has caused this?" You and Nico stare at the older man before you all, you feeling like a little girl again while Nico feels like that dumbass driver who got his daughter pregnant.

"Hey, Mr. Hakkinen. Good to see you again."

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yandere-kokeshi · 10 months

Text

Yandere Miguel and Miles with a gn darling who's hosting Venom

Warnings: yandere behavior

A/N: this was requested but I accidentally deleted it. To whomever sent this on anon, please enjoy :)

Miguel O’Hara:

Miguel likely finds out pretty quickly about Venom, seeing you sweat profusely and talking to yourself was a huge giveaway.

But he also used his free time to use his tech to find out about your ‘Spiderverse’, therefore, witnessing video/and photo evidence of Venom. The minute he comes to you, he’s in your face, inquiring about the so-called symbiote, which leads to you confessing about Venom.

He’s a bit impressed by Venom’s uniqueness. Finding the black liquid wraps around your figure, transforming you into something abnormal isn’t an everyday thing you see. Which leads to him asking a bunch of questions, especially about how their voice works.

Dating you and Venom was quite hard at the beginning. Not only did his spider senses go off constantly — but the parasite teased him often; sticking out its tongue from behind your back whenever you turned around to do things.

At first, Miguel will try to find a ‘cure’ for you, wanting to get rid of the damn parasite. He viewed them as nothing but a pawn in a pack, using your body as it pleases. But the more he watched you laugh, getting comforted by the symbiote whenever Miguel wasn’t there, or getting along with it, he realized it was a part of you; just like how he’s part spider.

As much as he hates to state it, he appreciates how Venom can protect you. While Miguel would prefer to be in control, protecting the only family he has left, he’s relieved Venom can easily take over your body — directing you away from the danger or taking care of the problem itself without you being involved.

Speaking of Venom being in full form, the first time Miguel witnessed them taking over your body - its tongue and sharp teeth expanding, the dark voice shaking the ground, he was… surprised. He stared up at Venom, before cursing them out, demanding they bring you back, but due to Venom’s humor, Miguel was annoyed with their teasing.

Both of them don’t get along well, but they have times with bonding, something in common which is their protectiveness and possessiveness towards you. At some point, they may become competitive against each other but in all, they both work together when it comes to making sure you stay as theirs.

Venom loves to tease the hell out of Miguel, touching him whenever the two of you are holding hands or hugging him. Sometimes, the symbiote will pop out and try to scare the man on purpose.

Miguel often wants to strangle the damn symbiote and will angrily laugh when they get upset at him when he calls them a parasite or alien. At this point, he will purposely nickname that but will stop if you say so, but expect no apologies.

The strictest about Venom listening to the rules Miguel places out — hence the talk of: “No eating people”. This also involves getting aggressive and setting boundaries with the damn alien, going as far to threaten to take them out himself.

Isn’t afraid of using vibrations and intense heat to get the symbiote out of you if they become too bloodthirsty within a fight.

Miles Morales:

At first, Miles thought you were ‘sick’, at times taking it as one of your quirks as you constantly whispered to yourself and often bought a bunch of chocolate to a point where it was unhealthy.

Sure, he commented about the chocolate. Always suggesting you should eat something healthier. But it was you. So he took your answer and often didn't question it again.

He figures out your situation when the two of you were on a date and a band nearby was playing, making you cover your ears, Miles could see you were in pain; worry covering his face as he moved you to somewhere quietly, which leads to you telling about your buddy.

At first, he was confused at your words, worrying you’d lost it, but when a mass of black blob came out of your shoulder, revealing terrifying teeth and white eyes, he freaked out.

Getting him to calm down was a bit troubling, but soon after explaining about Venom and how you two bond, Miles… is pretty nonchalant about it surprisingly. He nods along, often looking at Venom fearfully before asking normal questions.

Miles has a sketchbook dedicated to you and Venom. Almost every page is drawn in extreme details of you being transformed, your smile, and Venom’s tentacles appearing on your body.

While dating you, he’s grown to Venom’s constant interruptions in the conversations, talking to the both of you and often ignoring their teasing. Eventually, he’s grown to be braver on comebacks to the damn symbiote, laughing and smiling cockily when they get ‘offended’.

The time Miles witnesses you being transformed into a giant abnormal figure with terrifying teeth, he fears for a second — but slightly calmed down when Venom tells him it’s them and that you’re fine. The moment you turn back into yourself, he quickly interrupts your apology with a quick hug.

Venom loves to tease Miles. Whenever they catch him staring at you, they always call him a ‘lovesick idiot’ and ‘a doofus’.

Seeing Venom get aggressive, often itching for a fight worries him like a mother hen. He’s always the one to talk it out through Venom, often making them question their behavior and see what the consequences will do if they decide to continue.

Although your interesting ‘power’ intrigues and amazes him, he gets nervous around you, stating his worries about the symbiote possibly using you or waiting for the right time to consume you and many others. But, he’s learned that Venom is quite fond of you; wrapping their wraps around your figure when you sleep to make you more comfortable.

While he does worry occasionally, he's more prone to acknowledge and be okay with Venom; seeing them as a roommate which leads to Miles likeing Venom a lot.

While he does get irritated when they tease him too much, or say awakward things in public that he has to cover up with odd answers to people, he does appreciate how protective they are over you and him — often wrapping their tentacles with you when you hug or kiss him. He likes it when they curl around into cuddle sessions, their wraps covering you both as you two asleep.

They both work together, often in protecting you. Not only does Venom likes the way of Miles thinking but, Miles appreciates the help in making sure people get what they deserve from looking at you weirdly.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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raticalshoez · 6 months

Text

Sorry guys. I'm ranting about Joel again because djskakaka that's my favorite guy. This post is a direct result of the tags in a post I reblogged and I just HAD TO TALK ABOUT IT MORE.

Okay, so Joel always carries himself to high regard. He has lots of confidence in himself, is generally apathetic and dry to any matter that doesn't concern him, and he overall loves to bite back at things. He's a big fan of chaos and violence, and stays generally bitter when things go badly for him. He can be ruthless and reckless and that's just natural for him because he's one of the many Life Series wolf-coded characters.

But something about Joel in Secret Life is just...kind? He's kind and caring, in his Joel Smallishbeans way. Especially in later sessions.

In Etho's little remembering the past era, he reassures him that he does still care for him. When Lizzie invites everyone to her party in a rushed frenzy, he attends because he thinks it's only fair. When Pearl was apprehensive about her task being guessed, he purposefully wastes his guess so she doesn't have to be worried around him. He trusts Jimmy to assist him with his task even while everyone else is cautious about his red name status. And when it all came down to it, Joel tells Martyn to stay back after all the reds have dropped like flies because even if all the reds were a threat to them, he still didn't want to see them all die in one episode.

In Secret Life, Joel still has everything he's always had. He's still bloodthirsty and holds silly grudges, evident with the whole Scott thing this session. He's still cheeky and likes to mess around and make sarcastic comments often, but at the end of the day he's Joel. He tends to stay loyal to his allies and I think he's more thoughtful than lots of people realize.

This may be part of the reason I love the Mounders. They were all sort of distant in the way they would wander off and do their own thing, but when it came down to it, they always stuck by each other. They remained loyal despite what seemed to be really loose ends tying them all together, and that means SO much to me! I guess it makes sense though; a team with the lonely wolf girl from Double Life and the lonely wolf boy from Last Life were enough to neutralize the whole, "Bdubs can be kinda disloyal" thing and the whole "Mumbo was apprehensive of any color lesser than he was" thing.

Anyways. Life Series Joel Smallishbeans. That's my guy bro...THAT'S MY GUYYYYYY

Also! The post that inspired this was by @simplydm! Their post about Joel's comment to Martyn reminded me how much that scene made me orbit around the moon so I thought they deserved to mentioned in this. Sorry to them if uh they didn't want to be tagged though. I will remove it if that ends up being the case!

#trafficblr #secret life smp #SORRY FOR ANOTHER RAMBLE YALL #smallishbeans #ethoslab #solidaritygaming #pearlescentmoon #ldshadowlady #inthelittlewood #bdoubleo100 #mumbo jumbo #smajor1995 #again idk if everyone needed to be tagged #but i did anyways #god......GOD.#sorry for all the rambling again #i'm sooooooo normal about the life series haha #soooooooooo so normal mhm yup #especially about joel. of the smallishbeans variety.

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justa-fanfic-writer · 14 days

Text

Suprise adoption

Summary: You came back home with a few bruises and some scars while carrying a small child that looked like him. Now you both are parents to said child.

Pairing: Domestic Mihawk x Male Reader

Content warning: None

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It was a quiet evening, birds chirping trees swaying a bit from the wind it was a perfect day to relax and do nothing.

Mihawk was reading the news to see if there was anything interesting happening while drinking black coffee.

Until...

SLAM!

Mihawk heard the door slam open, and he already knew who it was. It was his husband [Reader] who was screaming his name with excitement, running towards him with a wide grin while holding something or someone.

Mihawk wasn't phased when he saw him until he saw his husband holding something behind his back he took a good look at it, and it was a child...? Mihawk raised one of his eyebrows and asked what he was holding behind his back and than [Reader] smiled even wider and showed him what it is and spoke.

"Look, Mihawk, I kidnapped found a child when i was exploring egghead Island, and he looks like you! isn't he just adorable? Let's adopt him!"

The child was stoically looking at him while crossing his arms together, asking why he was taken here.

Mihawk looking at said child and to put it frankly, not surprised at the slightest he had a pink bubblegum goth and a moss headed swordsman who had no sense of directions dropped at his and your castle out of the blue so he didn't care if there was another one coming to freeload at his home again.

He was amused by your enthusiasm when you wanted to adopt him, oh well. Whatever his love wants, he will get and do no questions asked. (Wish I had a lover like him fr)

After you had forcibly adopted the seraphim child, you and Mihawk took care of him as if he were your actual child. The little hawk was warming up to you both quickly and started to see you both as his parent figures, and he even called Mihawk and You, his dad, and Papa!

Nothing really changed that much, except you both now have a bio-engineered temporal child that had an unfathomable amount of strength, but what's the worst that can happen?

Everything

First order of business, You and Mihawk had started working on the murder tendencies that Vegapunk had put on the child instead of wanting to murder everything as if that would solve all problems.

Second order of business try to give the said murder tendency child a normal childhood like like giving him wooden toy swords or a plushie and not make the child feel as if his an object.

Mihawk is a dad by nature he even has the skills and reflexes to prove it too.

Mihawk wouldn't be the spoiling type of parent if anything discipline would be high on his list of parenting the child your probably the one who would spoil the child because I mean how could you say no the little baby-hawk hm? Or not who knows.

Mihawk is a quiet man, and so is the child. While baby-hawk doesn't always communicate verbally, he makes up by doing gestures like holding up books for You to read to him or tugging You or Mihawk's pantleg to point or say if he wants something.

Now imagine this scenario.

it's just that You and Mihawk are asleep cuddling in bed, and then you both wake up to mini-hawk, turning on the lights.

You groggily rubbed your eyes, and Mihawk was a little irritated that mini-hawk woke you both up, and then you asked mini-hawk why he woke you both up and than he said.

"I want to sleep with Dad and Papa"

Mini-hawk said stoically while keeping a serious face on.

You then cooed at the child and scooted over and patted the bed, letting him sleep in the middle, and You and Mihawk started sleeping while also cuddling the child in the middle just a happy gothic family bond.

All in all, it was just You, Mihawk, and your little child goth, and he wanted nothing more than that.

The strongest swordsman, the strongest swordsman handsome husband, and the little baby swordsman, what a chaotic yet beautiful happy family, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

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Sorry if it's short. This is all I could think of...

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vioartemis · 8 months

Text

In another life (Sam's version)

(Sam Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: You're Tara's childhood best friend, and years after leaving Woodsboro, you meet her again in New York, making unexpecting feeling emerge. Tara || Sam Warnings: age gap (?) reader is 19 and Sam is 24 a/n: I made another one shot, kinda complementary of this one, with Tara :)) I put the link up there if you're interested (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

She had known you since you were 4, when Tara and you were in the same class for the first time. You were also her neighbor, but she never knew before that.

You were her little sister’s friend. Best friend, even. When Tara wanted to play, it was always you she wanted to play with. And Sam always accompanied her, so she saw you a lot too.

Then, when she was in age to want to have some money, she babysat you and Tara’s other friends. You were always so nice and sweet, always smiling, and opened to hugs.

She liked you a lot. Out of all of her sister’s friends, you were her favorite.

Sadly the time you spent together came to an end when she ran away.

Even if she didn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to see each other a lot more, because your parents had found a new job, and you moved out of Woodsboro a few months after her.

And now, almost 6 years later, you were about to meet again.

Tara and the rest of her friends just left a party , right after Sam barged in and tazzed some dude in the balls. The Carpenter sisters were fighting in the middle of the road, when a random girl threw her soda at Sam.

Half of the group tried to get the girl while the other held them back, trying not to cause too much drama. They didn't see it, but one of the girls was filming the whole thing.

Luckily for everyone, you did see it. You were actually going to that party, and saw the whole scene from afar. You didn't like that kind of attitude at all.

So when the girls walked passed you, you grabbed the phone of the one who was filming, and deleted the video before she could post it.

They all gave you horrified looks, like you did the most horrendous thing.

"That's called karma" you mumbled to yourself while you walked away, in the direction of their victim

She was trying to dry her jumper, when you approached her.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry, people are so dumb sometimes..." you said as she lifted her head up to look at you

As soon as your eyes met each other’s, both of you knew who the other was.

“Sam...?”

“Y/n…?”

You chuckled in surprise, while Sam looked at you with wide eyes at how much you had changed.

"Oh my god..." she murmured "What are you doing in New York? It's really far away from Woodsboro"

"Oh yeah, my parents got a job here, a few months after you left... We never really moved again after. What about you?"

"We needed... fresh air. A new start. Away from Woodsboro and Ghostface"

You had heard about the recent Woodsboro murders, but couldn't believed all the rumors about Sam being the real mastermind behind it all.

"Of course, I understand that" you said with a light smile "You should take off your jumper, you're going to catch a cold..." you continued, taking off your hoodie and handing it to her "I don't know if it's the right size, but at least it'll keep you warm"

Sam gave you a thankful look, and put on your hoodie. It smells like her... she thought.

You smiled, and hugged her without thinking about it. You had missed her a lot more than you would ever admit.

"It’s so nice seeing you again…" you said quietly, as she hugged you back

You stayed like that for a minute, silently enjoying the hug, until you got interrupted.

"Sam, what are you doing?"

You broke the hug to look at the person, who appeared to be Tara, your childhood best friend.

"Y/n?" she smiled as she saw you and opened her arms for a hug

You gave it to her happily, holding her extra tight. Then, you discussed a bit, trying to catch up on each other’s life.

“Oh, I wanted to ask you, would you mind giving me your number? So we can talk” Sam suddenly asked you... a little nervously? You weren't sure.

You nodded and took her phone when she handed it to you, before putting your number in it. You gave it back to her with a big smile.

You were more than happy to see the Carpenter sisters again. Especially one of them.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

Since you gave Sam your phone number, you hadn’t stopped talking. Every day as soon as you woke up, you started texting. You just had so much to catch up onto!

When you weren’t in class, you made a habit of going to the café where Sam was working. Your excuse was that it was always calm, building a good atmosphere to study there. The actual reason was to see her more.

When she was on a break, she would come to your table and either start catting with you, or just keep you company when you were actually working. She would never say it out loud, but she loved the serious look you had when you were concentrated.

She enjoyed your presence in the café. She was glad you chose to sit there to study, for when she had finished her shift, you could spend more time together. She would often walk you home, to make sure you’re safe.

Sometimes you were with Tara, studying together at the café. Sam loved her sister, but in those moments, when Tara and you were laughing together, so close, while she was behind the counter dealing with rude clients… she couldn’t help but feel her heart ache.

You knew that feeling damn well, every time a client was trying to flirt with Sam. Or at least it looked like they were flirting to you. And every time you had to slap yourself mentally, not understanding why you felt that way.

The answer would come a bit later.

You had planned a movie night with Sam at your apartment. You were alone and bored, and she has nothing better to do as Tara was doing homework with the twins.

You were happy to have that moment with her, but also nervous. The time you had spent together since you met again only brought back feelings you thought were just a stupid baby crush. Turns out it isn't just a baby crush. You had a crush on your best friend's sister.

This whole situation gave you anxiety. What you didn't know was that you weren't the only one.

Sam also had a crush on you. Her sister's best friend. Her sister's crush. She always had known Tara had a crush on you, she even thought you would be together at one point.

You would have made such a cute couple. That's what she had thought for a long time. Now she just can't help but feel an ounce of jealousy thinking about it.

And then the guilt strikes. Tara loved you, she couldn't do that to her... And even if she didn't, you were just so much younger than her... 5 years can be a lot, especially since you were young.

But again, imagining you with someone else made her jealous.

She was lost, and torn between telling you how she felt or just trying to forget her feelings.

"What do you want to watch?"

Your voice made her snap out of her thoughts.

"Oh uh... I don't know... Why don't you pick something?"

"Hmm... Okay! There's this movie on Netflix that I wanted to see..." you said, sitting on the couch next to her -at a reasonable distance- and turning on the tv.

While you looked for the movie on Netflix, Sam couldn't keep her eyes away from you. You were just so pretty...

She had trouble concentrating on the movie, often distracted by your presence next to her.

You could feel her eyes on you as the movie played. It wasn't the first time you caught her looking at you, but every time when you looked at her, she had looked away. You had figured it would be the case this time too.

You were wrong.

When you looked at her, her eyes were still on you. At this moment, you were like frozen in place. She had never looked at you like that before.

She had the look you gave her when she was not looking. In love.

While you were gazing into each other's eyes, you both got closer and closer to each other, to the point you could kiss her if you wanted to. And you wanted to. So bad.

"Can I... can I kiss you? Please..." you asked quietly, almost pleading her to let you kiss her

She looked hesitant, but eventually gave in and kissed you, putting a hand on your cheek to keep you close. Kissing you felt so right... as if your lips were made to be kissed by hers.

But again, Tara loved you... and Sam felt like she was betraying her sister.

She pulled away from the kiss.

"I'm sorry I... we shouldn't have done that..."

You felt your heart sink at her words. You thought she liked you back...

Your pain must have been visible on your face, as Sam was quick to talk again.

"It's not against you Y/n... I... I really like you but..." she sighed "Tara has a crush on you since forever... I can't do that to her..."

"What...? Wait... What?" you started, surprised

You never knew Tara had a crush on you. You only ever saw her as your best friend and thought it was the same for her.

"Sam you can't just- you can't just put her feelings above yours... I mean- I understand it's going to be difficult for her... But it's not like we chose that... I- I love you Sam... And Tara's my best friend, her well being is important to me... But seeing you without being able to tell you how I feel or kiss you... it's torture"

As you spoke, you asked yourself if it wasn't too much. Scare her away was the last thing you wanted. But everything you said was true.

Sam was looking at you, mouth agape, clearly not expecting that. She didn't expect you to like her back, let alone make her a whole love declaration.

She wanted to give in and take you in her arms and kiss you again and tell you how much she loved you. She wanted to be as honest with you as you were with her. She wanted to love you openly.

But there would be consequences. Tara would be hurt. Tara would feel betrayed.

But again... you were right. She couldn't put Tara's feelings above hers all the time. She loved you just so much... She wasn't sure she would be able to recover if she didn't give it a shot.

She cupped your face with both hands and kissed you again, more confidently, more passionately than before. She loved you, she wanted that kiss to happen. She wanted you to happen.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

Telling Tara about your relationship was harder than you thought. It never seemed to be the right moment.

Now you saw the hints of her crush on you. You saw the smiles, the looks she gave you, how her tone slightly changed when you were alone.

Both Sam and you were trying to find a good moment to tell her, but it wasn’t easy. And the more you waited, the more difficult it would be to tell her. You had to find a way to tell her quickly.

The whole situation was giving you so much anxiety…

“How are you?” Sam asked as you close your apartment door

“Tired… You?”

“Same”

You took off your shoes and hung your jacket, before sitting on the couch next to her. She pulled you on her lap and wrapped her arms around you, holding you close. Her warm embrace helped you relax a bit, as you nuzzled your face against her neck.

You stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each other in a comfortable silence.

When you pulled away, it was to kiss her. You’d wanted to do that the whole day and couldn’t even tell anyone about it. About her. About how much you loved her.

By the way she kissed you, you knew she felt the same.

Even if she felt bad for her sister, she couldn’t stop herself anymore. Now that she has had the chance to kiss you, she never wanted to stop. She felt so at ease when she was with you. She could be herself without the fear to be judged.

“I love you so much…” she murmured, her grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly

“Me too Sam… I love you too”

You kissed her again, arms around her neck, before hugging her again. You closed your eyes, relaxing in her arms once again.

You had been so stressed for the past days that you had trouble sleeping. But like that, in her arms, it only took you a minute to fall asleep.

Sam didn't notice right away, and started talking to you while rubbing your back.

"... Y/n?" she eventually asked as you weren't answering her

She moved slightly to get a look at your face, and her lips curled up into a soft smile as she saw you were asleep.

"You really were exhausted, hm?" she murmured, kissing your temple softly

She then hesitated before carrying you in her arms, careful not to wake you up, and made her way to your room. She laid you on your bed, putting your blanket over you.

"Goodnight angel..." she whispered before kissing your forehead

She was about to leave when she felt you grab her shirt.

"Don't go, please..." you pleaded quietly

You needed her right now, needed her arms around you, her oh so comforting warmth as she held you close.

Sam bit her bottom lip, thinking, but it didn't take long until she gave in and slipped under the sheets next to you. She couldn't resist you -and she didn't want to be away from you.

She wrapped her arms around you, letting you snuggle up to her.

"Goodnight Sammie..."

Your voice was barely audible, showing how tired you were. Sam smiled at your words, the nickname provoking her cheeks to turn a bit red.

"Sleep well" she said back, kissing the top of your head, before closing her eyes

Having you in her arms like that was just so relaxing. She felt like she was in heaven. The thought of waking up next to you made a smile creep up to her face, and was the last before she fell asleep as well.

The next morning, you woke up in her arms. It had been the best sleep you had in days. You didn't even want to move, you felt so at peace in her arms...

You eventually opened your eyes to see Sam was already awake, a smile on her face.

"Good morning" she said before kissing you

"'morning" you said back, smiling as she rolled on her back, pulling you on top of her without breaking the kiss

You were both in your own world; nothing else mattered at the moment, to the point none of you checked your phones. If you did check your phones, you would've seen tons of missed calls and texts from Tara.

She was worried for her sister didn't come back at their apartment -naturally because she was with you all night.

After some more kisses, you got out of bed and made your way to the kitchen.

"What do you want for breakfast?" you asked Sam

"What do you have?"

"I have... eggs, bacon... bread... Uhh... yeah that's it" you let out an awkward chuckle

"Eggs and bacon sound nice" she smiled

You nodded, and put the bacon in a pan to cook it.

While you were waiting in front of the stove, you felt Sam's hands snicker to your waist. You turned around, and she took the occasion to kiss you.

What you didn't know was that Tara had decided to come to your apartment -as you weren't answering her calls and texts, and currently had a clear view of the scene through your kitchen's window.

She couldn't see who it was, but the scene let little to the imagination; you were clearly kissing someone. So that's why she wasn't answering... she thought

Clearly enjoying the kiss, Sam lifted you up to sit you on the counter, hands on your hips, her lips still on yours.

If Tara felt her heart sink at the sight of the kiss, it was nothing compared to how she felt now.

Her own sister was making out with the girl she has had a crush on for years.

She was mad for it seemed not to be the first time, considering the way you were holding onto each other. Which meant you lied to her.

But knowing you, maybe you just had a hard time telling her. It had always been that way; every time you had bad news to tell her, it took you weeks because you knew it would upset her.

That thought calmed her down a bit.

When she looked at the window again, she saw you smile at Sam just the way she smiled at you. You were in love, that was certain.

You seemed happy. And deep down, that’s what Tara wanted. Seeing you happy.

So she turned around and walked back to her and Sam’s apartment, thinking ‘maybe, in another life, we’ll be together…’

[Tara's version]

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter x reader #scream #samantha carpenter

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dreamcubed · 9 months

Text

me! | george weasley x reader

song; me! [taylor swift, brendon uri(n)e] pairing; george weasley x fem!muggle!reader genre; accidental marriage, s2l, fluff, comedy word count; 7,8k timeline; post-second wizarding war (fred lives au) warnings; swearing, referenced alcohol consumption, references to hook-ups, references to sex, references to the war summary; after waking up in bed with a red-haired stranger and no memories of the night prior, you run off as quickly as you can. it isn't until months later when you're trying to buy a house that you learn that you can't just leave that forgotten night in the past

thought it would be ironic to have the song with the lyrics "i promise that you'll never find another like me" and "i'm the only one of me" with one of the twins lol

masterlist

"you're the kinda guy the ladies want."

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Typically, you were more responsible than this. You had always stayed away from drunk hook-up culture, hoping (perhaps too idealistically) to find organic love. Yet, on the night of your cousin's bachelorette party, you got so drunk that you found yourself in bed with a stranger the next morning. And you didn't know what to do.

All you could do for a few moments was look around the hotel room that you had evidently decided was necessary for the hook-up - and although you couldn't remember a single thing after your tenth shot at the club, the fact you were both naked gave away the events of the night prior.

He was red-haired, and quite nicely toned, but he also donned a partially missing ear. You couldn't see his face, so at that particular moment you couldn't judge whether or not drunk you had good taste. You pushed that thought aside - that was the least of your concerns. You needed to get out of there and forget that anything had ever happened, which shouldn't be too difficult thanks to the alcohol-induced memory loss.

So, with that, you slipped out of bed and scavenged for all your clothes around the room, and then quickly departed. You made it all the way down to the lobby without any human interaction, but it was there at the desk that you finally had to communicate.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?" the receptionist smiled at you.

You frowned, not understanding why they would address you as such - probably had mistaken you for someone else. But, you were in a hurry, so just grinned and nodded, leaving to never return.

***

Not many people were fortunate enough to buy their first home (alone) at the age of twenty-four without any help from their parents, but you had chosen a rather well-paid career path and had been meticulous with your money savings, so this was a reality for you. After a few months of working with a real estate agent to view houses and find the perfect home for you, you had finally come to a decision.

You had stumbled upon it really, when travelling from London to visit your family, you came across a road that you had sworn hadn't been there before. Curiosity had overcame you, and you had driven down it to find the cutest village named Godric's Hollow, which could also be described as peculiar. A lot of things in the village didn't make sense - like the fact they all seemed bewildered at the sight of your car - but the architecture was gorgeous. When you drove past an adorable rustic cottage with a 'for sale' sign out front, you didn't even have to think twice about viewing it.

It was a strange process, however, as the sign didn't have a number for the real estate agency, but instead read 'owl Cauldron Realtors for more details'. You asked around for information about Cauldron Realtors (a particularly strange name, comparable to the robes many of the older members of the village wore), and they pointed you in the direction of the realtor's.

From then on, the process to view the house and apply for a mortgage had been relatively normal, if not a bit old-fashioned in the lack of technology used. However, you reasoned that it was a small village and that they merely hadn't updated themselves like cities just yet.

***

"Why have you asked me to come here?" you asked as delicately as you could upon entering Cauldron Realtors.

"We have had something come up," Mr Linseed said to you. He was an eccentric old man, constantly adorning a pair of half-moon spectacles perched on the tip of his nose.

"Like what?"

"You told us that you weren't married."

You frowned.

"And I thought it was a bit strange given your muggle situation, but honestly I had simply assumed that you were a squib."

He was using a lot of words that you didn't understand. You had heard the word muggle passed around in the time that you had spent in Godric's Hollow, but had been unable to find out what it meant online or in any dictionary. Everyone used it so commonly you had felt too embarrassed to ask.

"Obviously, this changes the process for you to apply for a mortgage. We need your husband to sign off either that he will partially own the house or have no claim over it."

"I don't understand- I'm not married," you said.

"No?" the man raised a brow at you, "When we searched for legal documentation of your name, we found that it hadn't been Y/N L/N for a few months, but instead Y/N Weasley. I didn't think much of you not having gotten around to changing your bank details yet since it hasn't been long, but going by your maiden name is a little strange. So, I assumed that the marriage was short-lived."

Why did Weasley sound so familiar? You wracked your brain for when you had heard it before.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?"

Your eyes widened.

The guy from the hotel.

"What did you say my husband's name was?" you said slowly.

"I didn't, but George Weasley," Mr Linseed replied, "You knew that, though, correct?"

You nodded, "Yeah... just making sure."

The man frowned at you, "He is quite well-known I suppose - the shop Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is quite famous. Anyhow, here are the new forms that I need you to fill out and then we will be back on track."

You accepted them in a daze, but snapped your eyes up towards him again, "Where can I find Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"Diagon Alley, of course," Mr Linseed was clearly confused that you didn't know where your husband worked.

You had never heard of Diagon Alley, and he sensed that.

"You know? Through The Leaky Cauldron? On Charing Cross Road?"

Finally, a name you recognised.

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Mr Linseed, I'll be back soon."

God, what a process to get yourself a house.

***

You were pretty sure that in all your visits to Charing Cross Road, you had never seen that pub squeezed between those buildings before. But, you weren't about to complain, as you were desperate to find George Weasley and sort everything out. You couldn't remember his face, but you remembered his red hair and partially missing ear - that should be enough to identify him.

You hoped, anyway.

Upon entering the gloomy pub, you were met by quite a shocking sight - but one that wasn't entirely indifferent to Godric's Hollow. Except, you would describe the pub as having a more creepy ambiance, in a way. Beady eyes peered in your direction as you walked up to the bar, and you tried to hold your own as a woman with matted grey hair and disturbingly long fingernails smiled at you with missing teeth. You forced a smile back.

"Excuse me," you said to the bartender, who was similar to the woman in energy, "How do I get to Diagon Alley?"

He pointed to the door out the back.

"Just through that door?"

"You'll need your wand too," the woman who had smiled at you said, "To tap the wall."

"Wand?" you squeaked.

"I'll show you," the woman said eerily.

In any normal circumstance, you would have declined the offer, but you had already had so many new experiences you found yourself following her out the back.

"You're not one of us, are you?" she asked with a giggle of glee, pulling out a wooden stick from her pocket.

You didn't reply, watching as she brought it up and tapped some of the bricks on the wall. To your amazement, they then parted, presenting to you the most bustling and magical street that you had ever seen.

"Diagon Alley," she stated, "Although I prefer Knockturn Alley."

You thanked her, and hurried into the street.

***

The pet shops were strange: mostly having owls, cats and toads. The book shops were strange: having cages of moving books in the display windows. The clothes shops were strange: pretty much exclusively selling robes and pointed hats. All in all, Diagon Alley was the most eccentric place you had ever been.

There was a broomstick shop, a wand shop, and a place to buy cauldrons. You were so out of your depth that you decided you should focus on the task at hand.

It wasn't long before you found a bright and buzzing shop named Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, looking ten times more exciting than all the shops before it. You were almost overwhelmed with all the young people inside once you entered, and it finally became obvious to you that it was a joke shop. The numerous prank items on display were clearly enchanted in a way too, only furthering your amazement at this street.

You scanned around for a redhead, but it was really difficult to spot anything within the chaos. Eventually, you located a flash of red by the till and hurried over. The queue was unfortunately long, but you waited impatiently nonetheless.

When you finally reached the front, the red-haired man behind it looked at you, and you couldn't help but noticed he had two full ears.

"Are you buying anything, miss?"

"I'm looking for George Weasley," you said quickly.

He rose an eyebrow at you, "What for?"

"It's a long story, I really need to talk to him."

"I'll fetch him," he said, and disappeared out back for a few moments before returning with a man almost identical to him save for that all-too-familiar ear. He didn't look at you like he recognised you - maybe he drank so much he had memory loss too? That would make sense, considering he hadn't tried to find you either.

"Can I help you?" George Weasley asked, gesturing for you to move to the side so that his twin could continue at the till.

"This is gonna sound crazy, but," you took a deep breath, "You're my husband."

"You're right, that does sound crazy," he chuckled.

"You woke up in a hotel room a few months ago, right?"

His eyes widened, "I thought I hooked up with someone," he said, "Wasn't sure, though, because I woke up alone."

"Sorry about that. I don't really do hook-ups, I kinda freaked out and bolted."

"I don't really do hook-ups either," he shrugged, "No hard feelings."

"Anyway, as I said, it turns out we got married that night."

"Wow. I honestly can't remember anything."

"Me neither," you shook your head, "And we can't get an annulment - the cut off is three months. And we were way too efficient with sending off the marriage registration - we did it immediately."

He hummed, "That's quite a predicament. Divorce, then?"

You nodded, "Yes, obviously. But that will take ages, and I'm trying to buy a house for myself right now. I need you to sign off that you have no claim over it."

"That's no problem," thank God he was agreeable, "But what's your name?"

"Y/N L/N," you said, "Well, legally Y/N Weasley."

The man smirked at you, which admittedly made your stomach flip. Drunk you definitely had good taste: this man was gorgeous.

"Where's the house you're buying?" he asked.

"Godric's Hollow."

"Ah, my sister lives there," he hummed, "Nice village."

"Can I ask you a question - since you're my husband and all?" you didn't know why you added the last bit.

"Fire away."

"Why does everyone keep going on about muggles and wizards and witches and magic? I'm so lost, I don't know what's happening."

"Wait- you're a muggle?"

"As everyone apparently keeps saying."

He chuckled, "Oh, wow. My wife's a muggle."

"What does it mean?"

"I'll explain," he gestured towards the door to the back room, "But it'll be a lot to take in."

"I don't care, I just want an explanation."

And so, your husband, George Weasley, explained about the wizarding world that he was a part of. And how, by marrying him, you had automatically been granted permission by the Ministry of Magic to be an exception for all anti-muggle charms. Which was why you discovered the road to Godric's Hollow all of a sudden as a non-magic person, which you learned was what muggle meant.

At the very end of his explanation, you sat back in the armchair he had offered to you, "That explains so much. It's insane- but I'm relieved that it's not me going crazy."

"Must be quite a shock," he hummed, "I can't believe we got married. Are there any photos?"

"I mean, I suppose we could find the chapel we got married at and ask."

"Maybe it will trigger some memories of that night. I got drunkenly married - who knows what else I did?" he sighed.

"I don't know if I want to know."

George shrugged, "Better to find out that way than have a random woman come into your place of work and announce she's your wife."

You grimaced, making him laugh.

"I'm just teasing."

"Can I get your number? So I can contact you when I need to?" you asked.

George stared at you, "Number?"

"How do wizards and witches communicate?" you exasperated.

"By owl."

You blanked.

"You might want to get yourself one if you're moving into a wizarding village."

"How do they know where to go?"

"They just do."

You sighed.

***

"So, I phoned the chapel that we got married at and they confirmed that we signed the marriage registration and sent it off immediately," you said to George, taking a seat opposite him in your flat that you currently resided in, "They also posted this to me." You presented a large envelope to your husband and watched as he carefully opened it - even though it was already unsealed thanks to you.

He pulled out a marriage certificate: lettered in italic gold writing and clearly signed on the bottom two corners. As he pulled that out, another piece of card fluttered to the ground. You chewed your lip as you watched him pick it up.

"Wow," was all he said.

It was the same reaction you had when looking upon the photo of you and George at the alter: lips pressed together with smiles creeping on to your faces.

"We look so happy."

You hummed, "The photo hasn't triggered any memories for me."

You watched curiously as he waved it about. "It's weird that muggle photos don't move," he commented, "But- yeah- I can't remember anything more either."

"Maybe it's been too long," you reasoned, "Perhaps if we'd seen the photo the day after, it would've helped."

"Probably," he shrugged, "I can find a charm or potion that will help us remember - if you want to."

It hadn't occurred to you that magic was now a readily available tool.

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you said after a while, "I just really want to seal the deal on my house."

George nodded, "Of course, I'll sign the papers saying I have no right to it."

"Thank you for making this so easy," you said, giving him a warm grin, "When I found out I was married, I was so worried it was to a complete asshole."

"When I found out I was married, I thought it was simply a cute way a gorgeous woman had of flirting with me."

You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his comment. George was a stunning man: his damaged ear only added a rugged element to him, enhancing his beauty in a way that you didn't know possible.

He noticed your flustered reaction and chuckled a bit, "However, there is one problem with me signing those papers that your real estate agent really should've mentioned."

"What?" you filled with worry: that house was your dream house.

"If you're buying a house in the wizarding world, you're going to need a wizarding bank account."

"He kept going on about galleons," you thought for a moment, "But then he converted to pounds so I didn't think much of it."

George hummed, "Yes, but you're still going to need to pay in galleons."

"How do I get a wizarding bank account?"

"Only wizards, witches, squibs and muggles married to any of the former can access one. Oh, and muggles with magic children, even if they aren't married."

You realised what he was getting at. "So I can get one, but..."

"But it has to be a shared one with me."

You pulled your hands down your face, "But I love that house so much."

"I promise you I'm not trying to trap you."

"No, no- I get it. I just- that means I'd have to stay married to you until my mortgage is paid off. And that takes like thirty years."

"Even then, the bills would still need to be paid in galleons."

"Oh, fuck," you muttered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

George watched you in silence.

"I'm sorry. I'll divorce you and forget about the house," you said eventually, "It's not fair for me to force you to stay in a marriage for the rest of your life - I mean, I can't force you."

"I didn't say anything about that."

You frowned. In your mind, there was no other option.

"I'm willing to do it."

"George, it's just a house, you really don't need to-"

"I will," he reiterated, "You realise that if you divorce me, you won't be able to access the magic world anymore?"

It had become something you were so excited to explore that you were disheartened by that fact.

"It would be cruel for me to take it away from you, I think."

"But-"

"So, I will set you up on my bank account, sign off on the house, and stay married to you."

Your mouth was opened wide as you stared at him, and in a flash you had leaped across the coffee table in order to pull him into a hug.

"You're so amazing," you mumbled, hugging him tighter as he returned the embrace, "Thank you so much."

"Hey, anything for my wife," he chuckled.

Your heart stopped.

***

"I've had to change my name on my driver's license and passport and bank account and everything else," you sighed, "Such a hassle for a fucking house."

George, who was walking with you throughout the empty house that you had just officially bought, chuckled, as he seemed to enjoy doing, "You must really love this place."

You shrugged, "The house, I would probably get over. An entire magical world that I would lose access to? Not so much."

He hummed, gazing around the place. You had decided that he at least deserved to see the property that he had given up so much for you to own.

"I can't wait to begin decorating," you sighed, "I have big plans for the downstairs rooms and the master bedroom."

"What about the other bedrooms?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you pondered, "I'll probably make one of them an office, but the other two, I honestly don't know. It'll be a while before I have any kiddly winks running around."

"How come?"

"I need to find a man to create them with first," you reminded, "And that will be especially complicated since I'm married."

"Not if it's with me."

You were pretty sure his words held a joking undertone, so you laughed.

"Well, I shan't keep you any longer," you said, "I guess we'll keep in touch?"

"Stop by my shop as much as you can," George replied, but you sensed a slight trace of sadness in his voice.

Nonetheless, you smiled, "Of course."

***

Was two days later too soon to take George up on his offer of stopping by? Maybe, but life was too short for you to not do the things that you wanted to do. Plus, you were exhausted from moving furniture and painting (since you were stuck doing it the 'muggle' way), so a getaway from your new home was needed.

After getting someone from the Leaky Cauldron to let you into Diagon Alley, you made your way down to the corner that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes sat on. You couldn't help the fond smile that tugged on your lips as you pushed open the door and heard the tinkle of the bell above you. The last time you were there, you had been too nervous about meeting your husband to properly appreciate the joyful buzz of the shop; it was truly a marvel to witness. You wish you had grown up with access to such extraordinary things.

"Hello," a redhead popped up beside you.

You jumped a little, not failing to notice the fact this man, although initially appearing to be George, had two full ears.

"Hello... Fred?" you attempted to recall his name.

He nodded, "I must say, I wasn't expecting my sister-in-law to pop by today."

It hadn't occurred to you that George would have mentioned his marriage to his twin brother, but now it seemed obvious that he would have.

"Is my husband here?" you asked, adding a joking undertone. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but notice how warm saying that made you feel.

"Of course, he's out back."

"Should I...?" you trailed off.

"You don't need to ask permission to go out back," he chuckled, in a strikingly similar way to George, "You're married to one of the owners."

"Yeah, but-" but before you could finish your sentence, your brother-in-law had disappeared. With a sigh, you proceeded on your way to the staff-only space, unable to push aside how special you felt being able to freely enter the area.

It was only when you caught sight of George's back did you realise that you had nothing to say and had simply stopped by.

"Y/N!" he smiled, turning around upon sensing your presence, "What brings you here?"

You shrugged, "You said to stop by often."

His grin stretched wider, "That I did, I'm glad to see you."

You felt shy after hearing him say that, and avoided eye contact.

"How's moving in going?"

"Oh- well. Exhausting, though," you sighed.

"I can't imagine having to do everything without magic," he said, "If you want any help to speed up the process, I'm more than willing."

You shook your head, "You've done enough for me."

"I could never do enough for you," he half-mumbled, but you heard it. You couldn't believe it, but you heard it. "I'm free this weekend," he said at a more regular volume.

"I mean- if you're sure-"

"Of course I'm sure."

"I-" you stopped yourself, "Thank you, George."

"Georgie!" a voice called from the front of the shop, not long before a short plump woman appeared in the doorway. "There you are," she said with hands on her hips.

"Oh, hi, mum," he said, "I wasn't expecting you."

"I was just in town looking to pick up your father a new shirt - I don't know how he wears them out so quickly!" she sighed, "I thought I'd take the chance to invite you over for a roast on Sunday."

You smiled at the evidently kind woman.

"And who is this?" she asked.

"This is Y/N."

"How did you two meet?" this time she had a glint in her eye.

"Uh, funny story, actually," George scratched the back of his head, "We're married."

You were surprised at his honesty with his mother.

The woman's eyes widened, "And you didn't tell me!"

"No one knew, mum- not even us," he quickly added.

She seemed to ignore what the last part of his statement implied, and swooped you into her arms, "Welcome to the family, my dear, we have a lot of time to make up for! You'll be coming on Sunday too, yes?"

She didn't give you a chance to reply.

"I'll have to tell your father immediately - do all your siblings know? I expect Fred does. Probably Ron too." She paused, "I haven't even introduced myself! Molly Weasley - call me Molly, of course."

"Mum-"

"Godric- I have so many people to tell! I'll see you both Sunday at four o'clock, please don't be late."

And with a hug to both of you, Molly Weasley departed just as rapidly as she had arrived.

"I'm sorry about that- my mum can be very full on," George apologised.

"I think she's sweet."

A soft smile graced his face, "Yes, she's a very lovely woman."

You hummed.

"I'll get you out of the dinner."

You frowned, "Why?"

"Well, my family will think you're- well-"

With a shrug, you replied, "I don't mind."

"I have a big family."

"I know."

"Most of them are quite loud people."

"That's okay."

"They'll ask a lot of questions."

"George, I want to meet your family," you realised as soon as you said them what your words could potentially mean.

"It's just- I- I don't want them to scare you away."

"Scare me away?"

He nodded.

You chuckled, "I'd like to see them try."

***

Sunday rolled around quickly, and as promised, George showed up at your house to pick you up at five to four. You figured that his parents must live very nearby if he was picking you up so late, but you hadn't given it much thought. All you had done was focused on yourself, dressing up what you deemed the adequate amount for a family event.

A knock sounded on the door, and you quickly rushed to open it, smiling when you were faced with the red headed man that you could call your husband. He was wearing a knitted jumper and baggy jeans, which was a relief to you since you also sported a knitted jumper, just with a skirt instead.

"Hello," you said, almost shyly.

"Hey," he replied, "You ready to go?"

"Yep, let me just-" you hurried back inside to grab the bouquet of flowers that you had bought for his mother, you weren't familiar with the guidelines for meeting family as you had never been in a relationship long enough to reach that stage, but flowers had felt like the right thing.

"Oh, for me?" he said teasingly.

You shook your head, dramatically holding them away from him, "You would be so lucky."

He chuckled, "Right, let's get going," he held out his arm for you to take, "You're gonna want to hold tight."

You frowned, but took his advice nonetheless, taking a firm grip of his bicep which had a hardness that made your heart flip. But before you could dwell on that thought, you felt like you had been sucked into a vacuum and spat out again in a split second. Your stomach cramped up and you felt nauseous as you fell on to grass in a completely new location.

"Sorry, that often happens the first time," George quickly helped you up along with the flowers, which thankfully were unharmed.

"Did we just- teleport?" you asked, holding your stomach. Thankfully, the nausea was already dissipating.

"We call it apparating but yes, we did."

"Why couldn't I be born a witch?" you whined, following George as he began walking up the path ahead of you.

You could only be amazed when the strangest house that you had ever seen came into view: looking like it should tumble over instantly with the mismatched extensions stacked on top of each other. Not too long ago, you would have been worried about its sketchy looking state, but now you immediately concluded that it was kept steady by magic. Even at the distance you still were from the house, you could hear a lot of noise coming from it.

"I bet you anything Fleur and Hermione insisted on being early," George grumbled, "Making my brothers look like angelic sons."

You smiled to yourself: his relationship with his siblings was making you want to reach out to your sister.

George didn't bother knocking when you reached the door, simply throwing it open and grinning at everyone who was stood around the kitchen. You couldn't help but feel some level of nerves as you were faced with so many strangers.

"George! Y/N!" Molly beamed, pulling you both into a hug, "I'm so glad that you could make it."

You presented the flowers to her, "I got you these."

"Oh, they're gorgeous!"

You watched as she pulled out her wand and arranged them in a vase without even using her hands. You didn't think observing magic would ever get old.

"Thank you, dear," she said, before turning to the others in the room. There was Ron, who you vaguely recognised from the shop, with a curly brown-haired woman on his side. Then there was the most ethereal woman that you had ever seen next to one of the more rugged looking men that you had seen in your time. There was also an older, balding, red headed man, who you suspected to be George's father.

"Y/N, you might remember Ron here," George said, and you nodded, "And this is his fiancée, Hermione. This is my dad, and over there is my oldest brother, Bill, and his wife, Fleur."

"Our little shit of a son is running around here somewhere," Bill added.

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N," George's father shook your hand, "You can call me Arthur."

"I didn't realise you were bringing a guest, George," Hermione said.

"Oh, she's no guest," Molly smiled, "She's family."

The only person who didn't exchange confused glances was Ron.

"I'm his, uh, wife," you said, feeling awkward. You didn't really want to say it, because it felt like you were lying to them even though you weren't.

What followed was an array of congratulations, and Hermione accusing Ron of not telling her when he clearly already knew. And then, upon being asked, you both finally revealed that it was an accidental marriage upon which you were both very drunk. Molly was new to this news as well, but nonetheless, before you could give any more detail on where your 'relationship' with George currently stood, she spoke.

"As irresponsible as that was, I think there's something beautiful in the fact that you're now happily married."

While you weren't unhappily married, you didn't know how to say that you didn't know you were married until a couple months later, and that you weren't in a relationship with George. He said nothing to clarify, either.

That was when a small boy tumbled into the room.

"Ah, zis is Victoire," Fleur said, "Our son."

He was just as red headed as his father.

God, your kids with George would probably end up redheaded.

You internally froze at that thought - why had it seemed so natural to imagine yourself having kids with George?

You were yet again distracted from your mind, as seemed common in the Weasley household, when more people arrived. It was Fred and his fiancée, Angelina, as you soon learned. Shortly followed by Harry Potter, allegedly quite a celebrity, who was dating George's only sister, Ginny.

The only person to arrive alone was Percy, who had a much less chaotic energy than the rest of his siblings.

"You'll meet Charlie at some point," Molly said to you, "But he lives in Romania for his work with dragons."

It was insane to you that George had five brothers and one sister; having six siblings seemed like such a hectic upbringing. That thought almost led you to brush over Molly's mention of dragons - dragons?

Once again, you were introduced as George's wife, solidifying you in their eyes as a sister-in-law. These were your in-laws, you realised.

"Dinner's almost ready," Molly announced over the noise of all the people.

Many people rushed forward to help the woman with the finishing touches and laying the table, and you felt like an ass for not assisting as well, but you would have been of no help. They were all using magic, which was ten times faster than you could complete any task.

"What year did you graduate school? I can't remember you," Ginny said, evidently assuming that her lack of recognition was because you had been in a different year at Hogwarts from her. George had told you how most witches and wizards in a similar age group knew each other because of there only being one magic school in the country.

"I didn't go to Hogwarts," you said.

"Oh, did you study abroad?" she asked, walking over to the table with you.

"No, uh, I'm a- I'm a muggle."

Her eyes widened in realisation, "Oh! I see," she hummed, "That makes sense now that I think about it."

"You're a muggle?" Hermione, who had overheard, said.

You nodded.

"I'm muggle-born," she said, "I was raised muggle."

"I was raised muggle too," Harry added on, "But I'm not muggle-born."

After that point, Arthur Weasley kept posing an array of questions to you, explaining that he was fascinated by muggles, and it was even what had led him to having the job that he did. Wanting to be liked, you answered all his questions as best as you could, and found his childlike curiosity quite endearing.

"Leave the poor girl alone, Arthur," Molly scolded her husband.

"I don't mind," you replied, and, really, you didn't.

The food was absolutely delicious, to the point you almost moaned when you first put it in your mouth. You didn't think you had ever eaten such delectable food before, and you made sure that Molly knew.

Once the first course was finished and dessert was being brought out, Bill and Fleur stood up.

"We have an announcement to make," the latter smiled, looking to her husband.

"Fleur's pregnant," Bill grinned, placing his hand on her abdomen.

"Oh, that's wonderful news!" Molly exclaimed, "How far along?"

"Twelve weeks, two days ago," Fleur said, "In ze clear zone, as zey say."

"We don't know the gender yet," Bill added.

"For your sake I hope it's a girl," Molly sighed, "It took me six tries."

"We will be happy eizer way," Fleur said simply.

You couldn't help but get the sense there was some level of tension between her and Molly, so you leaned over to George as everyone began chatting again, congratulating the expecting couple.

"Do your mum and Fleur get along?" you whispered.

"Well, yes, but they haven't always," he whispered back, "My mum thought she was vain at first, even thinking that she would call off the wedding when Bill got that scar." He was referring to the large mark on his eldest brother's face.

You hummed.

"They've mostly resolved their problems now, but I think there will always be a bit of tension."

After dinner, you wandered around the home, observing all the moving pictures of the family.

"Aw, you were so cute back then," you said to George, looking at a photo of him as a toddler on a mini broomstick.

"Are you saying I'm not anymore?"

You shrugged.

"And how do you know that's me and not Fred?"

"You may be a twin, but there's only one of you, George," you said in passing, not realising how much those words meant to your husband. As much as he loved being an identical twin, there were times where he didn't want to be seen as part of a package deal. Even his mother struggled to tell him and Fred apart before his ear injury, but you- you could recognise him instantly.

Your gaze moved up the wall.

"That's an interesting clock."

It didn't tell the time, but instead had a hand for all of Molly and Arthur's brood, all currently pointing in the direction of 'home' apart from who must be Charlie, which pointed at work.

"Even on Sundays, he works," George sighed, "You know, there was a time where me and Fred had the same hand."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but after he moved in with Angelina, mum had it altered."

Your eyes flicked over the 'mortal peril' section of the clock, and you didn't realise you had read it aloud til he responded.

"Thankfully that hasn't served a purpose since the war."

It was unbelievable to you that such a life-changing war had happened while you remained completely oblivious.

"I suppose we'll have to expand the guest list for our wedding," Angelina approached you, making you turn away from the clock.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," you said.

"No, no. An extra person is hardly anything," she smiled, "You're family, of course you're coming."

Family.

"Well, thank you."

"Of course."

***

As you and George said your goodbyes and departed, you couldn't help but let out an elated sigh, "Your family is so warm."

He smiled, "I'm glad you like them."

"They're like, everything I want my in-laws to be."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Loud, happy, there for each other - with the slightest hint of drama, of course. They're perfect."

"We've been through a lot together."

"Yeah, I expect so."

You both fell into a comfortable silence, one that had you feeling content with your life in the most heart-warming way.

"You ready to apparate again?" George broke the silence when you reached the end of the path.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you grasped his arm tightly, prepping yourself for what was to come.

You didn't fall to the ground this time when you appeared outside your house, but you did still feel nauseous for a few moments.

"I'm really glad you came," George said.

"I'm glad too," you smiled.

And then there was silence - tension-filled silence. The kind of silence that led up to what you had secretly hoped would happen this entire time.

His lips on yours.

You moved your hands up to his hair as the kiss got more heated, flashes of memories dancing through your brain.

You met at the bar your cousin's bachelorette party was at, and began chatting. He was charming, and funny, and you were both really drunk. You went on a walk together - you walked past a chapel.

You had suggested getting married - jokingly, but he had then said.

"Why don't we?"

And so you did, giggling and laughing the entire time, even when you kissed. The kiss held the same magical feeling as it did now, that's what had triggered the memory.

He had kissed all along your jaw and neck as you both filled out the forms, and it wasn't long before you both booked a hotel and by all technical terms, consummated.

"I remember," you parted from him breathlessly, only to kiss him again.

"Me too," he mumbled, pushing you back against your front door.

"Do you want to come in?" you asked.

***

This time, you were the one to wake up alone in bed, but that wasn't the only difference. You remembered every single moment and sensation from the night before - and from your wedding night, for that matter. A smile almost crept on to your face, but it dropped when the panic set in that George had upped and left like you had before. You scrambled out of bed, pulling a shirt and some pants on, and then rushed down the stairs to see if he was anywhere in your house.

And he was.

There your husband was, in the kitchen, cooking a full English breakfast - using magic, of course. You had electric appliances installed when you moved in, since most magic homes didn't generally possess them, but with George there, you supposed they weren't really necessary.

"Hey, love."

Love. That's what he had called you all of last night and your wedding night.

It made heat travel to your ears.

"Hi," you replied shyly.

"Take a seat, I'm almost finished."

You obeyed, deciding to let the wizard take care of you, even though he really had done too much for you ever since you met him - the second time, that was.

Your dining table was a temporary one, as your entire home was still a work in progress: it wasn't easy decorating an entire house by yourself, especially without the assistance of magic. Nevertheless, it did the job. George came over with the food and sat opposite you, gesturing for you to dig in.

"Thank you," you smiled, picking up the cutlery.

"I told you, anything for you."

"You're too perfect," you mumbled, making George chuckle.

"My ear may be injured, but my hearing's fine."

You looked up at him to make eye contact, feeling like he could read you with his gaze, "Your ear makes you even more perfect."

"I'm glad you think so, would be a bit upsetting for me if you didn't."

"I aim to please," you grinned.

***

"You didn't tell me the wedding would be quite so soon," you huffed, straightening out the pastel pink dress you adorned in the mirror.

George shrugged, tightening his tie, "Didn't think about it."

You were, of course, in reference to Angelina and Fred's wedding, merely two weeks after the dinner in which you met the former. Out of all the moving boxes you still had left to unpack, you had been forced to dig for a suitable outfit that fitted the colour scheme.

Aside from work, you and George had been practically glued at the hip in the days since he first stayed at yours - and he had been consistently staying at yours ever since. He had probably spent about three nights total at his own flat in that time span. So much to the point that when he came over the day prior, he had brought his suit for the wedding with him, fully anticipating that he would be spending the night.

You hadn't put a label on what you currently were, other than legally married, as it was.

"We have to be early," he said, "Since I'm the best man."

"I'm aware," you replied, sitting on the edge of your bed to pull your shoes on, "I'm pretty much ready."

"Alright, let's go."

***

The ceremony was a beautiful occasion: held at the Weasley house, The Burrow. The entire garden was decorated beautifully in shades of pink, purple and white, with bouquets of flowers adorning every table and chair. Obviously, a drastic difference from your own wedding.

You were sat in the crowd while George was up near the altar with the maid of honour, but he was not your focus. Angelina was a transcendent bride.

When it came to the meal, you were - to your shock - sat on the primary table where the newly weds were. You supposed that it made sense, since George was obviously going to be sat by his twin brother, and you were his wife. Generally, married couples weren't separated at events. You were certainly relieved, since you hardly knew anybody else.

The only other people on the main table were Molly, Arthur, Angelina's parents, and Angelina's maid of honour and her partner. There was a second table for the rest of the Weasley siblings and their partners, and so on and so forth for more distant relatives and friends.

Once the toasts were made, the meal commenced, and you hadn't realised how hungry you were 'til that moment.

"Slow down, love," your husband commented, "I'd prefer if you didn't choke."

You shrugged, your mouth full. Once you had eventually swallowed, you said, "Much grander event than our wedding."

"We could always renew our vows," he said, and even though he had made many comments about wanting to do anything for you, and had done many intimate things to you in the bedroom (and elsewhere in your house, for that matter), it felt like the first real confirmation that you were in a relationship. Even more, that you weren't just in a marriage out of convenience, but instead because you simply wanted to be.

You parted your mouth to reply, when some children from Angelina's side began causing chaos by running around. "Lord, our kids better behave," you muttered.

George turned to look at you, and it was then that you became aware of what you had said.

"Our kids?" he was grinning.

"Shut up," you mumbled.

"Never - just let me know when you want to start, love," he winked at you.

"A bit too soon, I think."

He shrugged, "We got married within a few hours of knowing each other."

"We were drunk."

"We can get drunk again."

You sighed, "We don't even live together."

"I can move in."

You didn't have anymore rebuttals.

"Are you out of arguments now?" he asked.

You reluctantly nodded.

"Perfect."

***

Instead of apparating directly to your house, you and George decided to take a late night walk around Godric's Hollow. It was such a pretty village, and you had yet to appreciate its beauty in the dark, with all the magical lamps glowing around you. But, you knew that you and George needed to have a conversation, especially after the kids talk from earlier.

"Are we together?" you asked him, even though your interlocked hands should have answered the question.

"We're married, love."

"Yes, but are we together?"

"I'd like to think we are - do you?"

You remained silent for a few moments, before nodding and looking at him in the darkness of the night.

"Then there you have it."

"I just don't get why."

"Why what?"

"Why you've done so much for me when you hardly knew me."

George chuckled, "I admit, I don't know exactly when I made the decision to do anything for you, but when you strutted into my shop, determined as ever, and announced that you were my wife, I just-" he paused, squeezing your hand, "You looked so cute and I knew- in that moment- that I would never meet someone else like you."

You felt like you were melting on the spot.

"It may have seemed selfless that I helped you get the house - but, to be honest, it was the perfect excuse for me to trap you to me- make it easier for me to pursue you, that is."

"I love you, George," you sighed.

"I'm glad, because I've loved you for quite some time now."

"Love at first sight?"

"You would be so lucky."

You let out a childish giggle at that.

"But, yes, I think it was."

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masterlist

written; 18/08/2023 —> 03/09/2023 published;04/09/2023 edited; —/—/——

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