and i still don't know how to not make them fuzzy

amnesia || sebastian stan

word count: 2109

summary: sebastian stan x reader → he’s waiting for you to remember

author’s note: i took a chance on this one. it’s been in my drafts for awhile now and i’m just now posting it. it might be a little out of character, since i didn’t originally have anyone planned out for this. (sorry for any spelling or grammar errors) enjoy :)

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Nct 127's reaction to their s/o being upset because they don't kiss her

Request: NCT dream or 127 reaction to their girlfriend getting pouty and whiny when they don’t kiss her

A/N: my heart is weak for this, it’s so cute aw- and i decided to do 127 unit, i hope you don’t mind!



Would apologise right away and feel bad but at the same time, find it cute that you wanted his kisses so badly. You’d catch him smiling slightly to him when you pout, but he does it so lowkey you hardly ever notice. But he finds it super cute that you get clingy like these at times and becomes 10× more affectionate to you, often showering you with hugs after you start whining or pouting.

“aw someone’s whiny today”

“i havent seen you in a week, i miss you and your kisses :-(”

“come here, i’d give you all the kisses you want”

Originally posted by taeiloves


Adores it A LOT, and likes to tease you about it. Ends up giggling and smiling to himself because he finds it cute how you get upset over these small little things, and he feels loved and appreciated because he knows you love his kisses. His teasing could go on forever but he eventually always gives in because he’s soft for your pouting.

“ooo someone’s upset she can’t kiss me”

“shut up johnny”

“well if you want kissed you must be able to reach me first”

“you’re so mean-”

“/leans down quickly to peck your lips/”

Originally posted by nakamotens


Becomes a shy ball and would be a little flustered at first, but internally he’d also find it funny as he’s the pouty and whiney one most of the time. Softens right away and like Taeil, would become even more affectionate than before. Although he doesn’t show it, he loves it when you act like that because it shows how much you love him.

“aw babe don’t pout”

“but you ignored my kiss just now”

“come here, let me make it up to you”

Originally posted by nakamotens


Teasing you 24/7 about it. He isn’t afraid to show that he loves it and he’d purposely avoid kisses so as to see that side of you. And would attack you with kisses at the most random times because he loves seeing your expressions. This guy seriously Smiles non stop and would get all fuzzy and happy because he feels loved by you, which at the same time, makes him more cuddly than he already is.

“you want a kiss? no hehe”

“yuta you suck”

“oh… then all the more you don’t deserve a kiss /sticks tongue out/”

“so mean”

five minutes later and he attacks you with a big hug and pecks your face all over with that bright smile of his

Originally posted by y-ta


Would act like he’s annoyed with you and probably whines back too but in fact he enjoys it and finds it cute and adorable. Would purposely frown and act like his mad, making you feel bad but then he flashes you his gummy smile and hugs you. Tries to act cool™ by always avoiding your kisses when in reality he’s weak for them and his heart is beating like crazy whenever you do it.

“you’re so annoying, why are you so whiney today omg”

“you know why doyoung”

“what? i don’t know”

and when you glare at him, he softens and leans in to give you a kiss

Originally posted by hey-uta


Brightest sunshine!! Giggles to himself a lot and won’t stop smiling at your actions, calling you cute and adorable. At times he likes teasing you and making you pout more but other times he gives in and ends up showering you with kisses, hugs and pecks on your face. Loves it most when you act like that because he knows you truly love him and his kisses, and he’d be more than willing to give you more.

“babe you’re so cute”

“yeah if i was maybe you shouldn’t have ignored my kiss”

“aw someone’s upset”

“come im sorry, let me give you all the kisses i can right now”

Originally posted by neotechs


Another shy ball and wouldn’t know what to do, other than just giggle and pinching your cheek as he finds it super cute. Only teases you occasionally but still manages to be the sweet person he is. Eventually kisses you and you’d notice how he’d blush and smile brightly to himself, as his eyes stare at you lovingly.

“it’s been two days since i saw you :-(”

“do you miss me that much?”

“of course, especially your kisses”

“hehe come here”

Originally posted by blackgirlslovebts


This clueless bun actually thought you were genuinely upset with him, he’d apologise sincerely and it’s so adorable you end up laughing and giggling because how is he so pure??? But after time goes by he notices it a lot and finds it really cute, and as he’s shy, he doesn’t show it so he’d giggle to himself softly whenever he sees you pouting.

“goodness, im so sorry, i’ll kiss you now!!”

“really? aw”

“anything for my princess don’t be upset!!”

“im not upset omg you’re so cute-”

Originally posted by neotechs


Another one who would tease you for it and would also act like he’s mad but on the inside he’s all fuzzy and screaming because he loves it a lot. Would play hard to get like Yuta, but always end up failing because he gives in to your pouts- it’s one of his weaknesses. From time to time, he’d avoid your kisses so he can see you act like these, but most of the time he’s the clingy and affectionate one.

“someone’s being so clingy today”

“you’re like that too shut up”

“ooo there goes your kiss bye”

“i hate you”

“/giggles and pecks you on the cheek/ i lovd you too”

Originally posted by donghyukslee

anonymous asked:

Krypto as a handreared newborn pup headcanons? Fitting in Lena and Kara's hands, his tiny eyes and ears shut until 3 wks and he opens wide baby blues like Kara's, his fur getting thicker and softer as days go by, learning to walk and fly and roll, eventually growing bigger and super strong. Like, I'd bet my life Lena would have a scrapbook or three's worth of pics from a new born that could fit in her hand to a massive doggo almost as big as her couch!

He’s small.

That’s the first thing that runs through her mind when she sees the small- oh, he’s so small- bundle in Alex’s arms.

He’s so tiny. Kara makes sure to keep her hands open wide, steps slow as she follows Alex to the medical room. She gives her sister a wide berth as she walks around the room.

“We’re just gonna run a few tests. Okay?” Kara stares down at the small, small dog on the too big table. “Kara,” hands settle on her shoulders, and oh, Alex’s eyes are soft and concerned, “okay?”

“Yep. Good, great I mean. Thank you.”

Alex studies her for a second before her hands fall away with a last squeeze. “Is he from Krypton?”

“Yes,” Kara answers immediately. The heat of the pod still burning away at her fingertips, her family’s crest etched into its side. She clears her throat, “He is.”

“It doesn’t look like he has any powers right now.”

Kara sighs, chin skimming over her chest when she bows her head. That’s what she was, is afraid of. She could tell immediately from the way he had stumbled around, the earth not caving under fumbling paws.

(Her chest ached.

Her fingers itched with the need to hold him, to have this last part of Krypton in her palms, but she couldn’t. Things tear and snap and break in her hands.

She couldn’t bear to see that happen again to another piece of Krypton.)

“What’s wrong?” Alex scratches under his chin, bright blue eyes blinking slowly up at them. “Do you recognize him?”

“No, no.” Kara tilts her head and squints her eyes, trying to push past the fuzzy memories. “Well, I don’t- I know Jor-El was trying-” Kara shakes her head. “He wanted to send something that could help me protect Kal-El, but he’s, he’s a puppy.”

“Sometimes things don’t go according to plan though.”

(Kara thinks of hurried footsteps and hands urging her out of her bed. Hushed whispers of you must leave. Of silence and darkness and nothingness for twenty four years.

She thinks of herself, looks at the puppy- too young, too late- and agrees.)

Alex smiles. “We always wanted a dog.” A sob burns at her lungs, wiggles through her chest and up her throat, because she’s scared and worried but Alex said we and she’s here. Their shoulders brush as Alex shifts closer. “Come here.”

“He’s so small Alex.”

“I know, I know. Hands on mine, remember?” Kara forces out a strained breath, easing her hand over Alex’s as she pets him, adjusts the pressure she applies until Alex nods and moves away.

Kara runs a finger over his head, nails scratching lightly behind a flopped ear. “He’s so cute,” she breathes.

He looks so out of place amidst the cold and sharp lines of the DEO. She knows what it’s like to be poked and prodded when it doesn’t feel like the right place, the right time.

She gently scoops him up. “Gosh, he’s light too.” His nose is featherlight against the crook of her elbow, snuffing against her arm. “That tickles little guy,” she coos, smoothing a thumb down his head.

There’s a knock against the glass, J'onn stepping in with a curious look. “Report.”

“Well, he’s definitely from Krypton. No powers as of yet.”

J'onn crosses his arms, but oh, there’s a softness to his movements before he relents and lays a careful hand on his head. “Do we have any idea how long it could be until they show up?”

“None.” Alex shrugs. “Right now he’s just a regular puppy.”

“And his name?”

They both turn to her. It’s on the tip of her tongue, a murmur in the halls between her father and Jor-El. Eyes bluer than her mother’s hologram, bluer than the ice in the Fortress of Solitude stare at her.


Don't do space drugs, kids

I’m actually really proud of this one! Another fix for @taylor-tut
If y'all have something you want me to write, hit up my ask box or even just message me. I like friends. Also I’m on mobile, so if the cut doesn’t work, I’m super sorry.

‘Lance, you aren’t dying.’

Those four little words had become like a mantra in his head for the past hour, a lifeboat keeping him safe in denial. In truth, he really wasn’t dying, but being sick in space was still scary. Normally, Lance had a tendency to hide any illness that happened to strike him, downing copious amounts of DayQuil and going about his life. He had collapsed a handful of times in a childhood full of various illnesses, which, for him, was a pretty big deal.

Still, there was no way to do that now. Lance was a paladin, albeit the weakest link of the chain in his mind, and paladins were close. No, he couldn’t possibly just work through this. He couldn’t bear the thought of worrying anyone, not this early in their whole “family dynamic” thing. Besides, he didn’t have DayQuil, or any medicine, jo matter what he wished.

Instead, Lance decided to talk to Allura. She would be discreet, surely. And thus far, human biology didn’t seem that different from that of Alteans. So everything would be fine.

“You’re symptoms seem a bit strange from my perspective, Lance.” Allura’s brow was creased with worry, despite Lance’s bright smile. Keeping such a wide grin plastered on his face would probably help him get the space drugs, he figured.

A few anxious thoughts crossed his mind, flashing words like 'addiction’, 'side effects’, and 'death’, but he shrugged them off. He just had to make it through the next few days, when his body (hopefully) would be fully recovered.

“Nah, by human standards this is pretty mild!” Allura’s brows remained creased. “I promise, Allura, I’m fine. Well, not fine fine, but I’m not dying or anything. Just a sore throat and a little headache, that’s all.” This time he was lying, purposely leaving out the swirling feeling in his stomach and that fact that his headache wasn’t exactly small - his eyes felt like that were being scraped out with a sharp spoon. Still, he grinned and bore it, nodding as she told him the specifics of the little green pills she’d handed him before shooing him away so she could rest. Allura always seemed tired these days, and Lance reminded himself not to complain of exhaustion when those better than him were also ailing.

As per the princess’ instructions, he downed the pills with a full pouch of water and a bite or two of food goo, and within the hour, he felt the effects. His eyes didn’t really feel better, they felt… huh. None of him felt better per say. His aches and pains felt numb, not better, and never before had he really noticed the difference. He found after some trying he could walk normally, turn his head, speak, lift his arms… the feeling returned without pain as numbness faded into oblivion and was replaced with a feeling Lance could only describe as “anxious pins and needles”.

Every inch of him felt jittery and overflowing with energy. It reminded him of the time his brother had first started taking Ridellan for his ADHD, and described feeling his hair standing on edge inside his brain. Only, Lance felt a little different. Energized.

He could still feel the quakes of what had to be a fever coursing through his veins, but pure energy flowed alongside it, and he was itching to train. Bouncing off the walls.

When he came running into the training deck, Shiro raised an eyebrow.

“Lance?” he asked. “What’s going on with you?”

“You look like death, man,” Pidge added. “Maybe you should skip training today and nap.”

Lance felt himself shaking his head furiously. Hair got in his eyes but he didn’t feel it, or recognize his own hand pushing the stray lock away.

Huh. Weird.

“What’s weird?” Hunk asked, stepping forward.

He said that out loud?

“You did. That too. Seriously, are you ok?” Pidge asked, starting to look really worried.

“I’m great!” Lance beamed, though he felt a little like his body was a second suit of armour, a suit far too big for him.

“You sure?” Keith asked. God, even mullet was worried.

“Yes!! I felt a little off this morning but I had a drink and some breakfast and now I feel great! Best medicine ever!!” He could feel himself practically shouting, but didn’t know how to control his own voice now. Starts flashed quickly across his vision, but he shook his head and pulled out his bayard.

“Let’s go, let’s go let’s goletsgoletsgooo!” Lances words came out so fast and loud that his tongue couldn’t keep up and fell behind, slapping the words together in the least graceful way possible.

Shiro and Hunk exchanged worries glances, and Keith stepped forward. Maybe if Lance just worked this energy spurt off, he’d go back to bed and rest. Or shower. Jesus Christ, he was sweating bullets, and practically vibrating where he stood.

He whispered something vaguely reassuring to Shiro as he took his place to begin sparring, hoping to calm their leader’s nerves.

Pidge, on the other hand, ran off to find Allura. She had a feeling something was wrong. Really wrong.

Everything was fuzzy. His head was pounding and fuck it was boiling in here but he had so much energy and somehow amidst all the pain still felt that horrible numbness and he had to get it out of his system.

Keith charged at him and he moved to the side so fast that he stumbled, a whine of pain escaping his lips. No, he couldn’t give up now, once the numbness settled down he could keep going he just had to… had to…

Dodge. Punch. Kick. Shot, at the feet. Keith was down, although, of Lance was at all healthy he would have realized Keith had purposely fallen to end the fight without fever-fuelled tears.

Lance himself collapsed into a chair, only to have Pidge run frantically in two ticks later with a fearful yet determined expression. She pressed her hand to Lance’s cheek, and swore.

Shiro didn’t stop her.

Everything in Lance’s view was blurry and fuzzy and full of imaginary stars. He could barely breathe, but the numbness had finally began to wear off. Something familiar was by his side, and he leaned into someone’s arms at their insistence.

“C'mon Lance, I got you,” the voice said. It sounded like Keith.

“Bonding moment?” Lance asked weakly, feeling rather faint all of the sudden.

Keith hummed back at him. “Yeah, buddy. Cause I’m cradling you in my arms again.”

anonymous asked:

I don't think this has been requested...what would the boys think when new mom tells them she loves them the first time? (such precious little ones, they deserve all the good things)

Admin Mawile: (人 •͈ᴗ•͈) Agreed!


-The only time his mother ever loved him was when he did what she wanted, and hearing that you love him even when he doesn’t obey your every command is shocking. You really mean it, and he hardly knows what to do with the knowledge that that love is unconditional. 


-He has a hard time believing that you could mean something like that unless he’s earned it. If he’s been good that day, then he agrees completely. But if he hasn’t lived up to his own standards, if he’s been bad, it’s impossible for him to believe that you could really love him. 


-There wasn’t a moment in his life when he believed his mother loved him. She dangled affection over his head to taunt him, and little else. He can hardly imagine really being loved by someone, not the kind where all he has to do is exist, not appease your every whim. 


-He’s spent his entire life trying to please a woman who cared more about the dirt under her nails, and his entire being is still coded to seek affection wherever he can dig it up. You saying that means everything to him, and he’ll be sobbing from happiness in seconds. 


-What he knows of love is a scary thing indeed. You’re nothing like her, though, and a part of him desperately wants to believe that your love will be different. He’s terrified of what someone truly loving him might mean, but you might actually be an adult worth trusting. 


-He doesn’t understand why you could possibly love a dirty, disgusting failure of a child, but he can’t quite bring himself to argue. If you could really mean that, then you’d be the first person to not turn on him for it. He wants to hope that you won’t reject him just for accepting it. 


-While he despises the idea of depending on someone so much, the idea of you really loving him is enough to make his stomach churn in desperate twists. You’d be the first adult since his family to care, and there are parts of him that need their kind of affection to return. 


-If he can actually trust you to mean that, you’d be the only person other than his brothers to care. Adults have been nothing but cruel to him so far, and the idea of you actually loving him is more than a bit frightening. And yet, he wants the love that he’s seen other kids get . 


-He has vague, fuzzy memories of having a family to love him before, but you’re the first that he really knows of. His brothers and gang were one thing, but a real parent is entirely different, and he’s not quite sure if he can trust your love after the orphanage, no matter how badly he wants it. 


-His idea of love involves pain, beatings, and attention in the only way he’s used to. Your love has been so much more gentle than he ever knew people could be, and he’s beyond eager to accept it. He’d do anything to make sure that you never want to take that back. 


-He’s spent his entire life working for love that never came, and the very idea of getting it now, without doing anything but existing, is almost too good to believe. If his own parents didn’t think he was worth loving as he was, what in the world makes it so different for you?


-The only love he’s ever seen is the kind that has to be earned, and somehow, he can’t quite picture you demanding that. It’s a very different picture to imagine love without working for it, but the very idea of so much attention given freely is more than enough to make him accept. 

Don't Mess With Pan's Lost Girl P.4

Warning: violence (not really but idk what triggers you), swearing, smut (ig kinda)

Word count: 1829

A/N: Ok I’m not so sure what you personally would say the definition of smut is but you know it’s something. I will get more extreme than this, I just didn’t want it to be all of a sudden sex, I want to have some fun with it first. Hope that’s all right.

Part 3:


By the time I figured out how I was going to get out of this damned cage, the sun had already gone down and all the boys were back. Felix took watch again and was standing quietly at his post, just outside the cage. I puffed out my cheeks and reached up under my corset and pulled out my tank top. I ripped off the bottom and stuffed the top back in my corset. I focused my attention on Felix making sure he didn’t turn around and catch me. Keeping my gaze on him I slowly backed up till I hit the cage and crouched down. My hand reached behind me and I blindly searched for the purple flower. Once I felt my searching finger graze against one I plucked it out of the ground and wrapped it in the black cloth.

“Hey Feeeliixx.” I said as I stood, I could just see the irritation building up in him, but he still turned to face me. I smirked at him and he rolled his eyes but locked eyes with me. I walked towards him holding his stare and my smirk grew into a cocky grin. When I reached the other side of the cage he licked his lips and I leaned against the bars. “I want to have some fun.” I whispered and leaned so close that my lips barely brushed against his. He inhaled deeply and moved back a bit. “I’m not falling for this, you’re staying in there till I’m told otherwise.” He said as his breathing increased and he stared at my lips. “Well you know there are a lot of things we could do without ever having to open the cage.” I said tilting my head and brushed my fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes as I lightly scratched his head. His eyes then suddenly flew open and he stared me straight in the eye, “Screw it.” He said angrily and pressed his lip roughly against mine. For a moment I forgot all about my plan of escaping, my mind went fuzzy and was only focused on the movement of our lips. They moved in sync for a moment before his tongue licked my bottom lip, with out thinking my mouth opened. His tongue roamed every inch of my mouth and I let out a low moan. I tangled my fingers further into his hair as he deepened the kiss. He then pulled away just for a second, allowing us both to get a breath, before he pushed his lips to mine again. I grazed my teeth against his bottom lip causing him to let out a low groan. He put his arms through the bars and wrapped them around my waist pulling me as close to him as the cage would allow. He removed his lips from mine making me whimper and attached them to my neck sucking roughly, sure to leave a mark. I let out a gasp and he continued his assault on my neck, moving his way down to where my breasts were pushed up from the corset. He kissed them softly before nipping and sucking, leaving more love marks.

I opened my eyes, my head spinning in pleasure, when I saw the light of the bonfire coming from the camp. The sight shook me from my lustful daze and I remembered what I was supposed to be doing. I glanced down at Felix and for a second thought about abandoning the plan to see how far this would go. No no no, I need to get the hell out for here. Once he finished leaving a dozen love bites on my breasts he licked each one to soothe the pain. “Felix” I moaned and he trailed kisses back up my neck until he reached my lips kissing them softly. He pulled away, the both of us panting, and locked eyes with me once again. I slowly bring my hand that holds the flower up, I comb my fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes. I take the opportunity to put the flower just under his nose and he, unknowingly, breaths it in deeply. Second later his limp body falls to the ground with a loud thud. I glance up towards the camp and see that everyone is oblivious to what had happened. I squat down and search Felix for keys to the cage. “Sorry hottie, but I gotta get out of here.” I say when I find a set off cold keys. There are only two on the makeshift keychain made from a vine and I pray one of them opens the cage. Luckily for me the first one I try causes the lock to click open. I look again to the camp and watch silently as the boys one by one head off to bed. When only a couple remain I push open the cage just enough for me to slip out, I step over Felix’s unconscious body and make my way around the cage finding the patch of flowers. I pick a few more and wrap them in the same cloth. I push them in between my boobs and the corset and make my way towards the camp.

As I approach the camp I can see a group of three lost boys facing the fire trying to stay warm. I try to stay as light on my feet as possible as I creep up behind them. I hook my arm around one of their necks pulling him to the ground,quickly shoving a flower up his nose, and swing my leg under a second one causing him to fall flat on his back. The third attacks me from behind just before I get a chance to put the second one to sleep. I manage to fight my way out of his grip, though, and I push a flower in his face and do the same to the one still groaning on his back. Panting, I stand and brush the dirt from my pants and look down at the boys around me. I click my tongue and look around the camp, I hear nothing but the crackling of the fire and some snoring coming from all around the camp. I walk around a bit trying to find the leaders tent, guessing that that’s where my belongings are being held, but can’t seem to find it. “Where the hell are you?” I whispered, then pause. I spin around and start to get frustrated, but then I see a tree house not to far from the camp. “Found you.” I say smiling and head towards it.

Once I’m at the base of the tree that is occupied by the tree house I realize just how big it is. I bite my lip and look around for a rope latter or some way to get up, but don’t find one. Looks like I’m tree climbing. I look up and find the branch closest to the ground and jump. I hold onto it and pull myself up and look for the next branch to climb. After a few slips and cuts I make it to the entrance of the tree house. Pulling myself up I find the door open and no lights on. I peer in and find a large bed on the other side, and in it lies a sleeping boy in green. I tip toe in and look around for my satchel and sword. I find my things slung on a chair next to the bed. ‘Of fucking course’ I think rolling my eyes. I quietly walk over holding my breath, when I reach the chair I look back at the boy and turn to retrieve my things. I sling my bag over my shoulder and reach for my sword when I feel a danger placed around my neck.

“You naughty girl.” The boy tisks in a low, groggy, voice. He places a hand on my shoulder and spins me around to face him. “How the hell did you escape, what did you do to Felix?” He asks his face tight with anger. “He’s fine, believe me. If anything he left more marks on me than I left on him.” I smirked and he glanced at my neck, following the trail of spots down to my breasts. His eyes widen for a moment then meet mine again. “You vexed him?” He asks raising an eyebrow at me. “I’d hardly call it vexing. He was all for it.” I say keeping the smirk plastered on my face. He looks away from me shaking his head in disbelief, then moves the danger away. He looks me in the eyes again, then down at the marks, and finally at my hands that are covered in blood from the few cuts. “Come with me.” He orders and walks away. I stare at him, baffled, but follow anyway. He pushes a curtain aside to reveal a small washing room. He grabs a cloth and turns on the tap, wetting it. He then turns to me leaning against the sink and grabs my hand, pulling me towards him and wiping away the blood. I watch him curiously as he continues to gently clean my wounds. “Who are you?” I ask when he had finished and wrapped a new cloth around my hand. He glances up at me with his forest green eyes, through his eye lashes, and it causes my breathing to falter for a second. He smirks at this, “I’m Peter… Peter Pan.” He says standing up straight and looks down at me, he’s only a few inches taller than me but it’s intimidating. “What about you love?” He asks taking a step towards me, “What’s a pretty thing, like yourself, called?” He says as I take a step back. “Mariana.” I choke out. “Well Mariana there are consequences for escaping the cage.” He says still advancing. “What are you going to through me back it the cage?” I ask trying to keep the distance between us but I back into a wall. “No, something that’s fun.” He says stopping only centimeters from my face. I hold my breath and he leans in pressing his lips to mine. I stay completely still and this causes him to get frustrated. He groans against my mouth and presses harder trying to get a reaction out of me. “Come on love. I’ll make you feel good. Better than Felix did, that’s for sure.” I still don’t do anything and he moves from my lips to my neck causing an involuntary moan to escape my lips. I slap a hand over my mouth and he looks up at me. “You’re tough to crack. But I heard that. Don’t worry love. I’ll. Have you. Soon. Enough.” He said in between kisses on my neck. “If Peter Pan wants you,” He says against my neck then looks up at me his lips brushing over mine. “He gets you.”

anonymous asked:

If you feel like it, could you please continue to cling to canon and give us more of Sam and Dean and George the cat? Dean + cat is a perennial weakness of mine and I swooned over that little canon-compliant snippet.

It takes about three months of George living in the bunker before Dean fully capitulates. He doesn’t say anything, of course. No discussion about whether or not they’re keeping the damn cat. It’s just, one day as they sit working in the library, there comes the faint scratching sound from the electrical room as George covers up his mess in the half-a-cardboard-box with dirt in it that they’d rigged up, and Dean says, finally, not looking up from his laptop, “We ought to pick up a real litter box, that thing’s a pain in the ass,” and Sam blinks at him for a few seconds and says, “I could get one on Amazon,” and Dean grunts and keeps reading whatever he’s reading, and–well, that’s it. Sam puts a scratching post and a little cat bed in his basket, too. Red plaid flannel, soft-looking. Might as well keep George on theme, he thinks.

George never uses the bed, of course. He sleeps curled up on the classic cars in the garage and on the leather armchairs in the library and directly on top of Sam’s laptop (never Dean’s, and Sam’s starting to get suspicious about that). He shreds the scratching post in about three weeks, scattering little carpet tufts all over the kitchen floor. Dean props his hands on his hips and sighs, gives the cat a hard look where he’s sprawled on the table, but George only tucks his paws under his chest and starts up that contented rumbling purr, and so Dean can’t do much but sweep up. He makes Sam buy one of those weird ones made out of cardboard after that, though, leaning over Sam’s shoulder as they bicker about whether to order the one with the climbing tower or not (I’m not having a cat coming at me at head height, Dean says, and Sam thinks that Dean just doesn’t want to once again be the shortest person in the bunker, but he keeps that to himself). 

They don’t sleep together every night, though they do more often than not. Another thing they don’t really talk about, not that they need to. They used to keep the door closed, too, until George came to stay. That first night, Sam picked his head up around two in the morning to insistent tiny screeches over metal, and Dean sighed into the pillow, and Sam scrubbed his hand over his face and said, if we give in once–, and Dean sighed and said, story of my life, and so it was left to Sam to get up and shuffle across the cold concrete and crack the door, and then a silvery little shadow coiled around his ankles in the dark and made a soft mrr, which Sam was going to pretend was an apology, and by the time Sam made it back to bed there was a fuzzy lump tucked in against Dean’s warm side, purring contentedly. No, Sam said, but when he took his spot back George just walked spiky circles around both of their legs and then turned into a loaf on the small of Dean’s back and started purring even louder. Dean sighed again, mumbled, this is your fault, and Sam rolled his eyes, but he scritched behind George’s ear, too. He’s a very soft cat.

Tonight, Sam wakes up with a start, heart pounding in the back of his throat as he tries to gulp down air. It takes him a moment–but no, he’s in the bunker. Four in the morning, six years after he got away, and it was just a nightmare. Everything’s as fine as it always is. He scrubs a hand over his face, laying there alone in the dark. He went to bed early, not long after dinner, and it turns out Dean didn’t join him. No big deal, though at the moment he kind of wishes–but, no. Doesn’t matter. He’s just cold, that’s all, and he didn’t work his brain hard enough before bed. Might as well get up now, though, even if he’s groggy, because–well, because.

He trips on the cat immediately, soft fur stretched out in front of his bedroom door. “God–” he says, and there’s a skitter as George bolts away, his tail probably trod on, “goddamn it, cat.” A little sharper than he meant, a little louder, something trembling weirdly under his skin. Fuck.

He’s sitting in the library, just one of the lamps on, holding his coffee against his chest. The warm of it, the smell, it’s–good. He breathes. Wonders how long it’ll be until Dean gets up. He could go for a run, kill some time, only it’s raining outside, enough that he can hear it even down here, and it just sounds so… miserable. He’s staring, at nothing, and he has no idea how long it’s been when there’s a nudge against his shin, and then George hops up onto his lap, needle-claws sinking immediately through his pajama pants. He hisses, but he still feels bad about earlier, and he just stays still, trying not to wince, while he’s kneaded into submission. It’s only a minute or so before apparently he’s the right consistency and George winds himself into a circle, all twenty pounds and plumy tail wrapped up neatly with his heavy little head tucked against Sam’s knee. Sam lays a hand on his wide soft back. “Hey, cat,” he says, quiet, and George starts up a steady rumble in response, warm and constant as one of those stupid Magic Fingers mattresses Dean always used to love.

When Dean finds them, later, Sam has finished the coffee and is just sitting, content to be a cat pillow, at least for now. Dean squints at the two of them. Sam tries to smile at the pretty epic bedhead Dean’s rocking, but Dean obviously sees something a little different because his expression changes. He comes over and runs a hand through Sam’s hair, eyes narrow. Sam shrugs, then lifts his face up. Dean kisses him, close-mouthed and obedient, and he smells good, familiar. When Dean pulls back he runs a strong calloused thumb around behind Sam’s ear, and then he crouches and scratches the back of George’s neck, his fingers brushing against Sam’s where he hasn’t moved his hand. “Hey, cat,” Dean says, voice scratchy, and Sam smiles, for real that time. “You wanna give up my brother?”

“Nah,” Sam says, propping his head on his free hand. “I’m leaving you. George and I are gonna travel the country, taking care of–uh, mouse hauntings, or something.”

“Oh, okay,” Dean says, and stands up, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I guess you don’t want another cup of coffee, then. Or, I’m thinking maybe some bacon.” 

“Hm,” Sam says, and picks George up with a discontented mrr. “Throw in some pancakes and I’m in.”

Dean rolls his eyes and scoops the cat out of Sam’s hands, tucking him under his arm football-style to carry him out to the kitchen for breakfast. “This is what I have to deal with,” he says, apparently to the cat. “What kind of man can’t live on bacon alone? I gotta make little cakes, too? Come on.”

Sam grins, and brushes the cat hair off his legs, or tries to. It’s going to be that kind of morning, he thinks, and then goes to stop Dean from feeding their cat Sam‘s share of the bacon.

The Three List | Barry & Iris | Script Fic
  • Barry: Hey, Iris?
  • Iris: Yeah, hun?
  • Barry: Do you remember when you were with Eddie & you told me about your 3's list?
  • Iris: My 3's list?
  • Barry: Yeah, you know, three guys you could cheat on Eddie with.
  • Iris: *snorts* oh, right. My 3 list.
  • Barry: You don't still HAVE that, do you?
  • Iris: *blinks* What?
  • Barry: Your 3 list. Do you still have it?
  • Iris: Uh...probably somewhere. Why?
  • Barry: *clears throat* I was just wondering if Oliver was still on it.
  • Iris: *smirks & crawls over to him* Babe, you know that's not a serious thing, right?
  • Barry: what do you mean?
  • Iris: *laughs* even if Oliver had given my fangirl self the time of day when I was with Eddie, I wouldn't have slept with him.
  • Barry: *blinks* you wouldn't have?
  • Iris: *laughs* Who do you think I am, Bear? You think 'he's on my three list!' would've sufficed if Eddie had caught us in bed together?
  • Barry: *blushes fiercely* No, I guess not.
  • Iris: *cups face* Babe, you've got nothing to worry about. *kisses him* You're the only one I want.
  • Barry: *after many kisses & sweet nothings whispered* But is Oliver still--
  • Iris: *rolls eyes & gets off him* oh, for crying out loud.
  • Barry: Wait, Iris, I didn't mean-
  • Iris: You most certainly did. *starts to walk away*
  • Barry: *panics* Iris-
  • Iris: Calm down. I'll be right back. *dashes up the stairs & comes back 10 minutes later* Found it!
  • Barry: *shifts towards her, eyes wide* What did you... *spots piece of paper she's holding* Oh.
  • Iris: *hands paper over* Take a look for yourself.
  • Barry: *scans list of names & frowns* He's still on it.
  • Iris: Mhmm.
  • Barry: This doesn't make me feel any better, Iris.
  • Iris: *crosses arms* that's the original list. I only updated it once, a couple months after I'd moved in with Eddie.
  • Barry: *still frowning* where's that one?
  • Iris: *makes circling motion with her finger*
  • Barry: *checks the other side* This one looks pretty much the same. I don't see-- *jaw drops*
  • Iris: *starts to grin* See something you like, hun?
  • Barry: Am...Am I...? *squeaks*
  • Iris: *nods* Mhmm.
  • Barry: I'm in the number 2 spot!
  • Iris: That's one above Oliver, I believe.
  • Barry: *still gawking* I don't understand.
  • Iris: *comes & sits next to him on the couch* After you told me how you felt when I was with Eddie, I had a lot of feelings that I didn't know how to deal with. Then when Eddie got all secretive on me I started thinking about you even more, and how my best friend would NEVER keep secrets from me the way my boyfriend was doing.
  • Barry: *winces* sarcasm is warranted.
  • Iris: in the past. *waves it off*
  • Barry: *swallows hard & nods*
  • Iris: That night when I came back to my dad's & you were there reassuring me, I felt like that was a safe place to put them. My feelings for you.
  • Barry: On your 3 list?
  • Iris: *nods* On my 3 list.
  • Barry: Did Eddie ever see it?
  • Iris: *laughs* Are you kidding? If Eddie had seen the updated version, he would've figured out what was up right away, even before I did.
  • Barry: And what was up?
  • Iris: *smiles & gently kisses him* I was in love with my best friend.
  • Barry: *has warm fuzzies* Iris...
  • Iris: So, you can keep that if you like. Oliver's name is still on it - BENEATH yours though. I don't have a need for it anymore. I haven't looked at it until today in over two years.
  • Barry: Yeah?
  • Iris: *nuzzles & kisses* yeah. You're all I want, Bear. If I can't have you, there's no one else I want. Not even a one night stand with a celebrity.
  • Barry: *smiles*
  • Iris: Do YOU have a 3 list? *raises eyebrows*
  • Barry: WHAT? *squeaks*
  • Iris: You heard me.
  • Barry: Iris.
  • Iris: BARRY.
  • Barry: *sighs & then laughs* I have a 1 list.
  • Iris: *eyebrow furrow* What's a 1 list?
  • Barry: *pulls out wallet & digs out tiny scrap of paper inside & hands it to her* Same thing as a 3 list. Except mine only has 1 name on it.
  • Iris: *jaw drops when she reads it* I'M the only name on your 3 list??
  • Barry: *grins & pulls her close* Yep.
  • Iris: But of all he gorgeous celebrities, even SCIENCE NERDS, you only chose--
  • Barry: You're the only one I've wanted since the day that I met you.
  • Iris: *teary-eyed* Barry...
  • Barry: Getting a chance with you? 10 times better than any hook up with ANY celebrity.
  • Iris: *sighs contently & kisses him* I love you, Barry Allen.
  • Barry: I love you, Iris West.
  • Iris: *nuzzles & pulls away after a while* So what are you going to do with my 3 list?
  • Barry: Give it back to you. *hands it over* You decide what to do with it.
  • Iris: *grins* Mmk. *pecks him in the cheek, stands up & heads to the roaring fireplace*
  • Barry: Wait, Iris, what are you doing?! *speeds over*
  • Iris: Getting rid of it. I don't need it anymore.
  • Barry: Well, maybe you should keep it. You know, as a keepsake.
  • Iris: *eyes him suspiciously* Why do you want it?
  • Barry: *I* don't want it. It's yours. I gave it back to you. So you--
  • Iris: BARRY.
  • Barry: *swallows* I mean, you ranked me ABOVE Oliver, so...
  • Iris: OHMYGOD. *rolls eyes & shoves it into his hand* You keep it. It'll be YOUR keepsake. *walks back to the couch & sits down*
  • Barry: It's not really MINE, so--
  • Iris: *gives him THE LOOK* one more word, Barry, and I WILL throw it to the flames. Not even your superspeed will stop me.
  • Barry: *nods & swallows* Right. *tucks paper into pocket & comes to sit next to her* So...
  • Iris: *raises eyebrow*
  • Barry: Now what?
  • Iris: *irritation fades away & she pulls him close, kissing him* Now I get some one-on-one time with #2 on my 3 list.
  • Barry: *pulls back after a few kisses* I thought you just said--
  • Iris: I swear to God, Barry, if you don't just kiss me--
  • Barry: *speeds them up their bedroom, drops her on the bed & takes off t-shirt, then hovers over her & kisses her, lingering*
  • Iris: *moans* Don't tell my boyfriend about this. He'll be extremely jealous.
  • Barry: *restrains groan* On my life. *mutters & kisses her again*
  • ...
  • A/N: Just did (as of 4/2/17) a bit of an edit, b/c I watched the 1.08 scene & realized it's actually called a 'three' list, not a 'threes' list. So I changed all those & added a short line to something Iris said early on.

Okay okay okay.  So, I’m trying my hand at writing YOI.  Not sure how this turned out, but here you all are 

Yuuri and the rain had a love-hate relationship. Yuuri loved it, and the rain hated him. Despite how shitty it made him feel, he still continually sat in the pouring rain. The world was just beautiful during a rain fall. The hustle and bustle of everyday life came to a halt - everything was still and quiet. Water droplets formed on the trees and leaves, making them look like they were glistening. Victor looked beautiful in the rain, too - especially when the water droplets landed on his eyelashes, making them look impossibly longer and fuller.

Victor loved Yuuri, he loved most of his quirks. This, however, was one that Victor could do without. Yuuri’s tendency to sit in the rain always, without a doubt, ended with him catching a monster of a cold (or flu if he was especially unlucky).

“Yuuri, please.” Victor pleaded, tugging on his fiancé’s arm. “You can watch the rain from inside, I don’t want you getting sick again.”

“But Vitya.” Yuuri whined, stopping in his tracks while Victor attempted to shove him inside. “Look how beautiful it is out.”

“Yuuri.” Victor grunted, turning around and trying to shove him with his back.

Yuuri ignored him. They were outside of their home, and Yuuri walked over to the middle of their lawn and sat down, looking up at the sky. Victor shook his head in defeat, and went to sit next to Yuuri.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It’s very beautiful. I just don’t understand why you can’t admire the beauty from inside.”

“It’s not the same.”

They sat together for a while, neither of them saying a word.

Then, a sneeze punctuated the silence. Victor’s eyes snapped to Yuuri.

“Ah, Yuuri.” He started. “I think it’s time to get inside.”

“F-five m-more minutes.” Yuuri sniffled, sneezing once more, uncovered towards the ground, and then shivering lightly.

Victor put a hand between Yuuri’s. “No. You’re done, Yuuri. Let’s go. It’s time for a hot shower and some warm, dry clothes.”

Yuuri was thoroughly chilled to the bone. He had stayed in the shower, with the water turned the hottest it would go, for thirty minutes until the water turned cold.

After he was dry, he bundled up in sweats, a long sleeved shirt, sweatshirt (Victor’s), scarf and hat. Victor (who had also dried off and changed clothes) had him on the couch, underneath a thick duvet with a hot cup of tea.

“How are you feeling, Yuuri?”


“You sound stuffy. Are you already getting sick? Usually you have a day or so.” Victor frowned, soft concern evident in his voice, and in the way he was looking at Yuuri.

Yuuri shrugged, opting to keep quiet about the fact that he had been feeling tired and run down lately. Sitting in the rain had been a mistake, he knew it was, but he couldn’t help himself.

He sniffled, his eyelids dropping as he buried his face in the duvet and let out a string of sneezes, each one sounded even more congested and tired than the last, and Victor’s concern increased tenfold after the fifth. Finally, it died down, and Victor handed him the box of tissues. Yuuri plucked one from the box, and sniffled thickly into it as Victor placed a cool hand on his forehead.

“I think you’re running a fever, lyubov’ moya. Have you been feeling unwell lately, or is this just because of the rain?”

Yuuri shrugged, shivered even more and burrowed deeper into his blanket cocoon. Part of this was his attempt to get warmer, but a bigger part was to avoid eye contact.

“I…um…guess I haven’t been feeling great these last few days.”

Victor’s expression hardened. “Then what made you think that sitting in the rain was a wise decision, hmm?”

“I’m sorry, Vitya.”

Victor sighed. “I just hate seeing you not feeling well.”


Yuuri woke up around two that morning, miserably sick.

He was shivering, much more than earlier, even though he was buried under a mountain of blankets. That, coupled with how hazy and fuzzy he felt, let him know his fever had spiked. He could feel his night shirt sticking to his body, his back was slick with sweat, but he could feel the chill deep in his bones. He was aching, too - his head, his muscles, his throat - and all he wanted was for Victor to hold him and tell him everything would be alright and that this would pass.

He whined pitifully.

This made Victor stir.

“Yuuri?” He mumbled tiredly, his voice rough from sleep.

“Victor.” Yuuri croaked, going into a coughing fit. His chest was tight from the congestion, and he found himself wheezing.

Victor had him in a sitting position in an instant. “Can you breathe?”

Yuuri nodded - the change in position helped immensely, but also made his head swim. “Thank you.”

“You’re burning up, Yuuri.” Victor said softly, putting the back of his hand on his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Not well.” Yuuri mumbled, nuzzling into Victor’s hand.

“I know.” Victor cooed, stroking his burning cheek. “I’m going to get you feeling better though, yeah? Sound good?”

Yuuri nodded wordlessly, and Victor stacked some pillows behind him, which allowed him to relax back.

“Close your eyes, lyubov’ moya. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Yuuri nodded, drifting to sleep while he waited for Victor to come back.

Songbird (Avengers x Reader, slight Steve Rogers x Reader)

Request: Okay. I write stuff too but I dont post them and I’m having trouble to do this; “H-how long have you been standing there?” (Reader sings and dances with headphones in bc he/she thought they were alone, until they turn around to find the team standing there and witnessing their glorious moment of singing to a wooden spoon at the top of their lungs). This scenario has been stuck in my head for a month and someone needs to do it 🙈🙏🏻 good luck! I hope to read it 😘😘

Requested By: @thatgirlsar

Word Count: 1,438

Warnings: Um, none? I mean unless you count embarrassing situations…

A/N: Hi!!! So sorry I haven’t posted in forever, and so sorry that it took me so long to do this request! I absolutely loved writing this and it was so much fun for me! I included a bit of Steve x Reader even though the request didn’t ask for it. I don’t know, I thought it just helped everything flow better. Also I threw in a bit of Kelly Clarkson in there because I was once obsessed with her and her music never fails to put me in a good mood. Requests are closed right now but if you would like to be added to my tag list, just send in an ask saying that you want to be added and you will be added! Well, anyways, I hope you enjoy it! Oh, and FYI: (Y/F/S) means ‘your favorite song.’

Tag List: @mp938368 @gcneral-organa


Originally posted by life-is-onee

Ah, what a beautiful day…

You thought as you woke up that morning as the warm morning sunshine warmed you up, leaving you feeling absolutely blissful in your mound of blankets. Today was your one day off in what seemed like forever. Practically being the Avengers’ babysitter- ahem, manager- took a lot out of you each and every day.

You have been in this position for what has seemed like a millennia, but in reality it has only been two years. While those two years were amazing, they were also very frustrating as you constantly babysat- managed- the whole team. From picking up a drunk Tony from a club to even going on a morning jog with Steve so he isn’t alone; your job covered pretty much every aspect of their lives. 

You woke up in the morning and made each and every one of them breakfast while Nat kept busy by practically interrogating you as she tried to set you up with someone. Later on in the day, you made sure each of them went to training and ate healthy. At night, you would help them figure out their mission assignments and even hold some as they went to sleep in fear of nightmares. 

Yes, your job was pretty much a glorified nanny, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Except today, you tell yourself as you sit up in bed. Today is my day.

Sighing out as you stretch, you can feel your muscles relaxing. Swinging your legs over the side of your bed, you begin to walk around your room in search of some comfy clothes. Finding the perfect pair of yoga pants, you slip them on as you grab an old band t-shirt. Figuring it will be cold, you grab Steve’s hoodie that you stole a couple of days ago. Pulling the warm material over your head, you revel in its scent and the way it engulfs your body. 

Its going to be a good day, you tell yourself as you grab your phone and headphones. Plugging the earbuds in and turning on a song, you happily make your way to the kitchen as you hum along to the tune. 

Smiling as you enter the kitchen, you find that it is completely empty. This just adds to the beginning of your perfect day as you realize that you can make breakfast all for yourself. As the song ends and a new one begins, you begin to pull out all of the ingredients needed for your signature pancakes. Deciding to treat yourself a bit, your grab some fruit from the fridge as well planning to make yourself a smoothie as the pancakes cook.

Soon the familiar beat of (Y/F/S) fills your ears as you begin to mix in the ingredients. Smiling to yourself, you can feel the giddiness rise within you as the song plays out.

Casting a careful glance over your shoulder, a small smile appears on your lips as you find yourself alone. Taking this as your chance, you soon begin to dance around the room, sliding on the wood floor in your fuzzy socks as you ladle batter onto the griddle. 

The aroma of the pancakes cooking makes your giddiness-levels rise as you soon find yourself singing into the wooden spoon in your hand.

It is a good day.

The Avengers, one floor below your amazing rendition, sat clumped around some measly bowls of cereal. 

“I miss (Y/N)’s cooking…” Tony grumbled out as he moved his spoon around in his soggy cereal. 

“Yes, Lady (Y/N)’s food is amazing…” Thor reminisces as he takes a feeble bite out of his Pop-Tart. While he does love his Pop-Tarts, it is no match for your cooking.

Sighing, Steve looked over his dismal team. “Yes, I miss it too. But its her day off, she deserves it more than anyone.”

“While I agree that to be wholeheartedly true,” Sam begins as he took a bite out of his bagel. “I do miss her cooking.”

“Ach. Do all you boys just think about your stomach?” Nat questions as she looks over the group. “(Y/N) deserves a day off.”

“She does,” Wanda nods along as she agrees with Nat. The group soon fell quiet as they continued to eat their less-than sublime breakfast. 

“Hey, do you guys smell that?” Clint asks, breaking the silence. The group paused as they sniffed the air, trying to distinguish what this new heavenly smell was. 

“Yeah, smells like-” Bruce starts, but is soon cut off.

“(Y/N)’s pancakes,” Bucky finishes. Slowly, every pair of eyes drifted upwards to where the heavenly smell was coming from. The silence was abruptly ended by a monstrous stomach growling. The group, shocked, looked over to where Wanda was as she sheepishly held her ravenous stomach.

“You don’t think (Y/N) would mind if we just went up and had, like, one pancake, right?” Steve shyly asked as he looked up at the ceiling. 

“I don’t think she would mind a bit,” Tony added.

“Nope, not one bit,” Sam finished as he held his own growling stomach. 

Silence followed as the group paused and looked at each other, wondering if they were really going to do this. As a collective unit, the entire team got to their feet as they hurriedly shuffled to the elevator which would soon bring them to your wonderful cooking.

Unaware of the elevator doors opening, you continued your dramatic rendition of ‘My Life Would Suck Without You’ by Kelly Clarkson as if the love of your life was right in front of you.

Totally into the song, you hopped up onto the island counter as you continued to belt out the lyrics.

The team, completely shocked, stood there watching you. Their eyes followed your every move as you danced on that counter as if your life depended on it. They listened to you belt out the lyrics as if you were performing to thousands. 

Soon, you would be as Tony grabbed his phone and pressed record. Nat, seeing the devious smile on his face, widened her eyes.

“TONY!” She shouted as she snatched the phone out of his hands. Unaware of what she just did, she continued to yell at Tony. The rest of the team stared at her with shock- and with fear- as you had just found out that you had an audience.

Eyes wide full of fear and embarrassment, you looked down at the team assembled before you, still holding the wooden spoon in your hand.

“H-how long have you been standing there?” You weakly mutter out, frozen to your spot on the counter. 

“Since the beginning of the song…” Wanda mumbled out. Eyes growing even bigger, you begin to feel a rush of heat travel through your body in embarrassment. 

Sensing the tense and awkward situation, Steve, your knight in shining armor, stepped in. 

“Hey, um, lets all just go to the diner down the street for breakfast, okay?” Mumbles of agreement soon filled the room as the team left one-by-one to grab their jackets to trek out into the freezing weather. 

Still shocked, you stayed frozen in your spot until Steve walked up to you.

“C’mon, go grab your coat,” He said as he helped you down from the counter. 

Confused, you look at him. “But I made breakfast here-”

“I think your breakfast got a little burnt,” Steve says as he motions towards the black rock of batter that was once your delicious fluffy pancake. Sighing sadly, you turn off the stove top as you walked back to your room to grab your coat with Steve.

“Thanks for helping me out of that awkward situation,” You mumbled out, still mortified at what happened.

“No problem,” Steve says as he helped you into your coat. “I know how embarrassing it can be to perform to an unexpected crowd. Trust me.”

Laughing at his recollection of the glory-days filled with tights, you nodded your head. “Still, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Steve responds with a smile. Walking down to the van filled with the Avengers, you feel your and Steve’s arms touch slightly. “Besides, I loved your impersonation of Kelly Clarkson.”

Stopping dead in your tracks, you looked in awe at Steve. “You know Kelly Clarkson?”

Rolling his eyes playfully at your comment, he nods. “Well, yeah. I’m 96, I’m not dead.”

Laughing at his reply, you grab onto his arm. “C’mon, Gramps. Its my only day off and I’d love to eat something that isn’t burnt with my best friends.”

Shrugging off the nickname, Steve opens the van door to find the team once again bickering. “You got it, Songbird.”

sun’s first light [3/?]

part one, part two 

Krypto’s breaths are heavy against her hand. Warm and slow, she thinks he’s probably fallen asleep again. The street is quiet below. Too late- or early?- for people to be out and about.

The lights are faded out when she looks outside. The city as close to silent as it can get to her.

(She knows loud.

Knows it’s Eliza’s hands that tugged down a blanket over her head, pressed headphones over her ears every day those first few weeks, and then at least once a week after. Jeremiah’s chest warm and solid under her cheek, heart thumping too fast, too fast, but they were trying to help.

Always trying to help.)

Keep reading

Agender Cas (and their SO Dean) headcanons
  • they’ve been going to the same school since Kindergarten but were never really that close. Sure they’ve been to each other’s birthday parties but they weren’t best friends material. Then in the 7th grade Cas comes to school in a skirt and well that’s the biggest event that happens all year. They try to tell people that they’re agender and they’re not a boy or a girl but well 12 year old can be assholes. Dean doesn’t like how the kids are treating Cas though. By the time he gets home he’s pretty upset about the whole thing and after a long talk with his mom they make a trip to Target and Dean’s got a game plan and some new clothes. The next day at school Cas is looking miserable and is back to wearing “boy” clothes but Dean… Dean has a sparkly pink and grey flannel on over his Hello Kitty shirt. People try to give him shit but they’re not going to start anything since Dean is one of the biggest kids in the class and he punched out Alistair in the 4th grade because he was picking on Jo. Dean tells the other kids that “clothes are just clothes. Nobody should tease Cas for what they want to wear it is their choice and they look really cute in that skirt!”
  • in college Dean makes an ignorant comment about pink being a girly colour and this does not go over well with Cas (Yes Dean realises he was being a dick and apologises profusely but Cas is still ticked because Dean definitely knew better). So when Dean asks them to pick him up a new toothbrush the following day Cas buys Dean a pink one. And Cas continues to buy Dean nothing but pink toothbrushes (and razors) out of spite for the next 3 years. They eventually feel Dean has learned his lesson and buy Dean a really nice green one. The next morning Dean wakes them up because he can’t find a pink toothbrush and he is late for work and he just can’t go to work without brushing his teeth! When Cas tells him that he has a green toothbrush this time he looks so crestfallen that Cas has to go out and buy him a new pink one later in the day.
  • Their most serious fight is Dean’s fault. They’re out drinking and Dean blurts out that he thinks Cas’ outfits are terrible. He tries to take ti back immediately but the damage is done; Cas is upset and Dean winds up sleeping on Benny’s couch since he’s too ashamed to go home. When he does come home the two of them sit down and Dean explains that he loves Cas’ clothes and their eclectic tastes and how they will wear anything (though he really hates that fuzzy yellow cat sweater but they’ll talk about that later). And what he meant was that Cas can’t match for shit. The colours clash and oh my god they can’t mix patterns like that. With a sigh Cas admits that they are a little overwhelmed by trying to match so they just kind of wear the first two things they grab more often than not. So they compromise. Cas will pick out a skirt or top they want to wear and Dean will help them build an outfit around it. Dean won’t ever admit it aloud but he almost has more fun dressing Cas up than he does undressing them.
  • For their trip to Hawaii Cas wants to bring a bikini. There are an endless number of cute tops and Dean has to limit Cas to like 3 (”jeeze we’re only going to be there like a week, how many swimsuits do you need? Aren’t you bringing like 3 pairs of trunks too?”). But the bottoms pose a problem. A lot of the fun ones pose a problem for tucking and its really bumming Cas out. They really wanted the cute blue ones with the pink flowers. But it seems they’re doomed to choose between black, black, black, navy blue, black, or (surprise) black. Dean of course spends a lot of late nights trying to find a solution and he does in the form of a sarong. The one that dean surprises Cas with is a royal blue with yellow/gold dragons on it and Cas is THRILLED. And since Dean is such a big sap he totally lets Cas buy like 6 more of the damn things because the way their face lights up just makes Dean’s heart melt.
  • When Dean and Cas go to see their first metal show it’s in an intense heat wave. There’s no way it should be this hot in May but it is. And being in the crowded venue with 100s of other metalheads moshing out to Amon Amarth is going to be hell. So Cas decides they’re going to wear their cute skull skirt. Dean’s honestly kind of jealous because the thought of wearing jeans is already making him want to die. They get a few odd looks when they are standing outside the venue waiting to get in (to be fair most people in line are getting weird looks from passers by) but thank god nobody decides to be a dick. That is until they’re standing in line to get water after the opener has finished playing. Some huge burly guy (like seriously he might be taller than Sam even) with a huge beard and sleeves on both arms comes up and says “Uhh hey, I don’t mean for this to come out rude or anything but…. wheredidyougethatskirtitisreallycute…” It takes them a moment to process what the guy said but then Cas smiles and explains how their sister in law is a seamstress and gives the guy her card. He thanks Cas profusely and disappears into the crowd. They think that’s the last of mystery guy but two weeks later Sam phones to say that some huge hairy dude came in to his wife’s shop and special ordered a dress for himself and left a silver pendant of Mjolnir for Cas.

(feel free to add your own cute agender!Cas/Dean headcanons!)

losing you is a process (don't make me)

02x06: IRON SISTERS - -

raphael santiago, head of the ny clan and over all charmer of concerned mothers worldwide is in simon’s room. he sticks out like a sore thumb amongst gaming and band posters in a way that a finger painting would if it were displayed next to the mona lisa.

he’s sex personified in leather pants that simon swears he wore just to get him worked up. not a single hair is out of place and he smells amazing. had it been any other time, simon would’ve taken a moment to enjoy the view but this is a crisis. his mother is in the hall, hoping for raphael to ~fix~ her son, waiting for a call from a doctor he’s had since childhood.

when raphael brushes past his fledgling, he makes sure to bump into him, arm to chest and he’s an awful awful man. he knows what effect he’s having and is savoring it.

he props up against the desk, palms splayed on it’s surface and yeah this looks familiar. like a magazine simon once hid under his mattress that featured a teacher doing naughty things that he should ~not~ be thinking about right now, oh god.

raphael mentions consequences, calls simon amigo as if nothing has changed for the worst as of late. friend. no longer reluctant enemies. it’s a start. lazily, raphael walks toward him without breaking eye contact and all simon can think of is, ‘I’ll take this punishment any day.’

a hand lands on his shoulder, gentle and soft unlike so many rough touches lately. raphael is close enough for simon to smell the woodsy cologne he wears, the sweet tangy blood in his veins. he knows the taste of that kiss, has spent too many sunny afternoons waking from a dead sleep, panting. but the worst part is this: knowing he had it all but chose to torch it.

his eyes close on instinct, waiting.

— raphael passes him by and simon freezes like an idiot hoping for a second, third, fourth chance.

no dice.

he turns at the sound of raphael’s voice at the door, knees weak and mind fuzzy. his eyes remain sealed and it takes his brain an extra second or two to process the words raphael is saying.

he opens them and wishes he hadn’t because there he goes again, losing raphael again. watching him walk away is torture and keeps happening like a wind up toy on repeat. the pain burns hotter, brighter every time. “what?”

the older vampire speaks, explaining about simon’s mother as if his dropping in at the lewis household is nothing out of the ordinary.

when he leaves, simon gives his mother a kiss on the cheek and closes the door behind him. he stares at the space raphael occupied and his chest aches something awful.

you look good in my room, he thinks. in my life.

(have I dodged a bullet or lost the love of my life)

8 Years to Fall in Love

Originally posted by jjks

The First Christmas

Jin x reader

Bestfriend AU/Angst, romance, smut

Word count: 20k

Day 1  ⇢ earmuffs

The ice broke into little flat grounds against his feet, crushing and crunching the piles of snow as the cold breeze brushed through his hair with winds cooling against his jacket. Flickles of snowflakes fell on top of his hair, creating almost a crown bedding as he walked through the white carpet that lied ahead of him, the softness that sunk when he stepped. His hands were tucked in the warm holes of the pockets, face covered up to his nose and a bit above with a maroon colored scarf, feet in his socks inside his heated black boots, and ears covered by his pink ear muffs. He loved his treasured pink earmuffs.

Keep reading


A/N: whelp it’s here thanks for being patient and all hope you like it! i tried to write it in a way so you can see both povs lol. haven’t edited it out yet sorry!!

word count: 1,1k+

previous part & master list


Y/N was beyond surprised when Chris asked her out on a date. It didn’t seem like something he would do from what she’d heard of him. She was actually excited, maybe she could finally see what he really was like.

Y/N hadn’t told anyone she’s going on a date with Chris, in case this was just a sick joke of his or if something incredibly terrible happened. She didn’t want to be that girl, yet at least. Even with all her efforts to keep it secret, Noora had somehow found out and had insisted to help Y/N out when it came to picking up and outfit (which was a thing that Vilde would do).

That’s how she had ended up hours before her date, lying on her bed with a pile of clothes on top of her. Noora wanted Y/N to put on something special, meanwhile she just wanted to go out with her ’normal’ clothes on since she didn’t want to look like she was doing too big of an effort.

”Alright, I’ll tell you something that I haven’t told anyone.” Noora said with a knowing look, she knew exactly what to do or say to get your attention on something. You kinda hated her for it, but nodded along signaling her to go on.

”I went on a date with William so that he’d leave Vilde alone, but I think I like him now. I really think I fucked up big time now.” Noora was biting her lip, avoiding Y/N’s gaze. Y/N couldn’t stop the smile from forming on her face, she knew there was something going on with them.

”I’m not really that surprised, you two would look great together anyway so just go for it?” Y/N suggested, giving Noora a sympathetic smile. ”Eskild also told me somethings, so if the other girls know something it’s because he told them not me.”

Noora laughed for a bit before mumbling something along the lines of ”damn you Eskild”. Y/N looked at the clock to check on the time, her eyes widening when she saw how much time had passed by already. She quickly got up and looked inside her closet, picking out a pair of jeans and a nice sweater to wear.

”You’re seriously going out like that even after I told you my secret?” Noora groaned, falling on Y/N’s bed.

”Yeah, it’s Chris after all. I don’t except much from a date with him.” Y/N was feeling slightly nervous, but she didn’t want to show it to Noora.

”Well, I guess I better get going now since he’ll probably be here soon. Good luck.” Noora got up and left before you could even say something to her. Y/N sighed and walked up to her mirror to see herself in it, wondering what could have ever drawn Chris to her out of all the girls. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell, she gave a quick last glance to the mirror before going to open the door.

”Hi princess.” Chris said with a smug smile once you opened the door.

”You seriously didn’t have to come all the way to the door you know, but hi.”

”You’re not supposed to do this on dates?” He asked, his eyes wide.

Y/N let out a chuckle at his reaction and walked outside closing the door behind her. ”You’re nervous and I must admit I like it, if this date is a total flop I can blackmail you with it.”

”Well look who’s feeling confident in themselves?” He was smirking, making Y/N blush. He found it cute how she went from confident to shy. ”Let’s go.”


Chris had cheesily enough chosen to take Y/N out on a gaming arcade, but he seemed super stocked so she didn’t say anything.

”What even made you choose this place?” Y/N curiously asked, looking around the arcade. It was almost empty.

”I don’t know. Taking you out for a movie date would be too cliche, taking you out on a dinner date would just be odd and we’d probably be acting all awkward, a picnic would be lame and it’s way too cold outside and I bet 20 bucks that you’d never come in my home for a date because you still think I’m a dick, so this came in my mind and well here we are?” Chris said breathless and went on after a moment ”Fuck did I already ruin it?”

”You’re so awkward, relax it’s fine I was just asking a question.” She gave him a reassuring smile, making Chris relax a bit. ”Seriously though, you’re always like this on dates?”

”Eh, I thought I said before but I always skip the ’dating’ part. You’re the first one who I’ve actually taken out and chased after if we could say that.”

”Oh.” Y/N mumbled, blushing again because, as a matter of a fact, he had said that before.

”Come.” Chris took her hand and dragged her all the way to a dancing game making her rise her eyebrow at him.

”What? It’s a nice game! You should see William trying to play this when he’s drunk.” Chris said letting go of her hand. They both felt a little sad at the loss of contact, but neither said a thing about it.

”I think I can live without seeing it, nice to know what you guys do when you’re drunk.” Y/N said and rolled her eyes. Chris just chuckled before motioning her to come closer to play.

She ended up having a great time and get to know Chris a lot better. He actually wasn’t a total asshole, he was actually nice and sweet and had a great sense of humor, which is always nice. Y/N looked at the time, realizing that they had spent over two hours on that stupid dancing game where he always won.

Chris’ phone vibrated, signaling he had gotten a text message. He sighed and pulled out his phone, his eyebrows furrowing together.

”Fuck, I need to go and pick William up from a party…” He said and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, giving Y/N an apologetic look.

”It’s okay, surprised you skipped a party for this though.” It made her feel quite special actually.

”Well I told you I can be something else than a dick? I’ve got to go though, so bye?” He didn’t know what to say to end it, Y/N quickly picking up on it.

”Goodnight, Christoffer.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek before sprinting off. She felt all warm and fuzzy on the inside and she couldn’t believe what she had just done, but she hoped it was worth it.

Chris on the other hand was left standing there as red as a tomato, his hand on his cheek. He felt genuinely happy for the first time in a while.

Nûrsot: The Sacred Sith Tree

Long before the Exiles arrived, Korriban had vast, dense forests of Nûrsot covering much of the planet’s landscape.

The trees were massive, wide, aromatically fragrant, and had impressively long branches reaching out and winding toward the sky.
It appears in many myth and legends of the ancient Sith. Most notably, it is known as the tree Ahmurn blessed and bestowed upon Marserha and their children to always bear fruit through any season, ensuring the Sith would never go hungry so long as the Nûrsot grew on Korriban.

Although the fruits the Nûrsot bore were edible and nutritious, its green leaves were toxic to the Sith in high doses.

The fruits had a slight fuzzy on the peel that could be washed and rubbed away before consumption. The could be eaten raw or utilized in a variety of recipes and cooking methods from teas to cakes to salads.
The leaves on the other hand, could be used to create various poisons and even some medicines.

Aside from the fruit and leaves, the Sith also used the wood from the branches to create art.

A common token that would be crafted were small figures of mowhefs.
(ok, i kno dis a tiger but pls work with me)

Carved from the deep, red wood of the lower branches and polished to a fine finish; the mowhef figures symbolized good luck, bountiful blessings, and if gifted, it let the recipient know of the undying love and loyalty of the giver.

Other artwork carved from the Nûrsot were used as doors, gates, pillars on buildings, or even wall hangings.

A particularly famous wooden carving from the Nûrsot depicts a battle of the Great Hyperspace War.

The frieze is currently held at the Kaas City Sith Art Museum.

A much less common use for Nûrsot wood is utilizing them for a lightsaber.

The wood is durable and light, making it an ideal material to craft a hilt or a part of one. Very few Sith over the centuries had their entire lightsaber hilts carved from the wood. It is rumored that the former Wrath had a fragment of Nûrsot wood on the hilt of his lightsaber in the shape of a fang.

Unfortunately, what was once an abundant and thriving species of tree, the Nûrsot is essentially extinct today.

With their arrival, the Exiles also brought the spores of a deadly fungus off world that infected and decimated the forests of Korriban. As the forests withered away, the Exiles burned many of the art and relics crafted from the Nûrsot wood, especially if the item depicted anything relating to the native Sith religions.

There are only three surviving specimens, and they are all currently held in heavily guarded, special facilities by the Imperial Botanical Society within the Garden District of Kaas City.

Because of their scarcity and the history associated with them, only highly distinguished Sith can obtain a piece of Nûrsot wood, even if it’s only a small one. The fruits are carefully gathered and sold in the Scarlet District once every five to seven Imperial Standard years. And any Sith alchemist or apothecary that wishes to use the leaves must get clearance from the current Councilor heading the Sphere of Biotic Science.

ok so like notes…?

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anonymous asked:

((For the starter thing you said you were doing)) Both Gon and Killua are in the hospital, both have deadly illnesses and only have a few months left each and are hospitalised, they share a room and soon begin to enjoy each others company before falling in love with each other. ((it's a little stupid and you don't have to write it, I just thought it could be cute))

It’s not stupid at all!!! I’ve read fics with this kind of plot before, they’re so good but so incredibly heartbreaking ;;;___;;;

Luckily, this is just a starter so hopefully it will only break your heart a little bit ^^ I’m sorry for the wait on this, please enjoy while I try not to die from finals

Modern, hospital au

“Seven hours, thirteen minutes.”

Gon blinked heavy eyes open, a tiled ceiling flickering in and out of focus above him. His head felt fuzzy and his limbs were numb. It took a good minute for his body to fully wake up. 

And then he wished it hadn’t, because the stabbing pain that followed was nearly enough to make him pass out again. 

Gritting his teeth, Gon threw his head back against his pillow and clenched his hands into white-knuckled fists. He managed to stammer out, “Wh-what?”

“Seven hours,” came the bored drawl. “Thirteen minutes. That’s how long you were in the surgery for.”

“I- wha, what are you-” Then Gon’s brained connected the dots and his jaw dropped, his pain momentarily fading into the background. “AH- no! No, Killua, you have to be wrong!”

The silver-haired boy in the bed next to him raised his eyebrows. “Do you think I’m lying or something, Gon? C’mon, I thought after four months you would’ve known me better than that. I know I’m dying, but I’m not that desperate.”

“Killuaaaa,” Gon whined. 

“Gooooon,” the other parroted back and Gon stuck his tongue out childishly.

Killua snorted. “You look dumb when you do that, you know. And stop complaining- I really did ask the doctor when they wheeled you back in here. He said it took exactly seven hours, thirteen minutes. My surgery was eight hours and forty-five minutes; way longer than yours. So, I win.”

Gon let out a long groan. He almost moved his arms to cover his face with his hands but the sharp jab of the IV reminded him why doing that was not a good idea right now. Instead he was forced to remain still in his hospital bed with nothing to do but pout pointlessly at the ceiling.

Seven hours, thirteen minutes. Killua’s surgery had been longer, meaning that his illness had spread further than Gon’s, had taken longer to treat. It meant Killua was going to die first and Gon would loose the bet.

Gon’s stomach rolled, even though there was nothing in it. 

It was a stupid bet they’d made back when they first met in the after-surgery recovery room months ago- at the time they were just two strangers who were dying of the same illness, betting to see who could hold out longer in a last-ditch effort into somehow hold onto the young life they were being robbed of.

It was pointless; they both knew they’d end up dead sooner or later. But the bet had connected them, somehow. They had given each other a reason to keep on living, even if it was a stupid one. Gon was living to prove Killua wrong, and Killua to prove Gon wrong.

But they’d grown closer since then. They were put in the same room to be treated by the same doctor and within a week Killua was the closest and best friend Gon had ever had. Killua brought a light into Gon’s life when he thought there was none left, and that light eventually transformed into a flutter in Gon’s heart that came to life whenever Killua sent a smile his way.

But that feeling- the weightless swoop in his stomach, the warmth filling in his chest- was a double-sided knife. Because Killua was going to die soon; Gon could already see it in his best friend’s labored breathing, the dullness in those once bright blue eyes. And when he did, he would leave Gon all alone.

Gon exhaled slowly, forehead wrinkling as the sharp, burning agony from a few minutes ago came back tenfold. He pushed it back down again and tried to think clearly around the pain.

Killua was dying, and so was Gon. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t try to live together a bit before they bit the bullet for good.

do you believe in ghosts?


“hi, i’m Phil. i’m dead. wanna hook up?”

or the one where Phil Lester is a ghost that watches Dan Howell grow up and slowly falls in love.

genre: angst, a bit of smut

tw: swearing, physical fights, homophobic slurs, self-harm mentions, talk of suicide (IMPORTANT: there is another large trigger further on in the story, but to avoid spoilers, the warning will appear before the scene with the trigger occurs)

word count: 5k

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blatherblatherskite  asked:

Do you think there's such a thing as like... a witch that can't do certain magic, or is naturally stronger in some areas than others? Personally, none of my spells or jars or anything have ever worked except when they're protection or banishment spells. I think it might be because I'm more emotional in those moments. Thoughts? I don't want guidance, I just wanna pick your brain bc you're cool beans.

I miss the term “cool beans,” thank you for referring to me in such a wonderful manner. ^^

Yes, I do believe that. Because I am absolutely shit with fire, because it doesn’t like me, though I try. But I definitely excel with water and air magic.

I do believe some people sometimes have certain affinities to certain types of magic. (And please note I say “some” and not “all,” for anyone who feels they need to say I’m wrong because they don’t have one, and that’s not necessarily bad either. This could be a much longer post than it is, but I just woke up from a 12 hour sleep and my brain is still fuzzy.) 

I don’t think it means that’s how it will always be forever, either, if one does have a magical affinity - people change and grow all the time, after all; so it’s likely that as you change your affinities might too. But at least for the time, yes, one may be more prone to succeed with certain magic than with others. Again though, while you may have those affinities right now, I can’t say you’ll have them forever. And a good thing to do is keep practicing, regardless; you’ll never know if or when it is going to change if you don’t experiment.

You say you think those spells are more potent because you’re more emotional in the moments of their creation. (Legit, btw, I can get behind this.) So, make yourself emotional somehow for your other spells; do everything you can to get as emotionally invested in your spell and the intent behind it as possible, and see how that plays out for them. 

I hope that’s enough from my brain to appease you :3

anonymous asked:

Hey Seda, for the prompt thing, love me or value me for Poliver (obscure ship I know so it's ok if you don't want to - also doesn't have to be those prompts I'd just love to read what you have to write about them, if it's not too much trouble / difficulty for you ) xxx

I have written another Percy x Oliver a few months ago, i will link it if you want to read that, too. (x

Also, one of the things I love the most is how some of you send me a ship I usually don’t write because you want to know my take on it. It feels like you trust me with your ships and it makes me feel fuzzy inside. So thank you :)

“Oliver, for the love of Merlin, stop tapping your fingers on the desk,” complained Percy. It was very hard to concentrate on his Transfiguration essay that was due in four days when Oliver was being an insufferable arse. He checked what he was doing stealthily.

“There’s a game tomorrow Weasley,” he said angrily without lifting his head up from the game plan in front of him. “Maybe you should re-read your Charms essay for the hundredth time somewhere else.”

“It’s Transfiguration!”

Whatever,” snorted Oliver and raised his gaze guiltily to look at Percy. “I’m sorry. You know how stressful I get before Slytherin games.”

Percy stood up and went for the stairs without even replying Oliver, he had enough of how careless he was with his words. Percy had tried to be nice to him, he had even helped him with his homeworks when his Captain duties made it hard to keep up. Percy had even considered that maybe he liked him but it was impossible. He knew people said opposites attract but Oliver was impossible to handle.

“Percy, don’t be ridiculous,” shouted Oliver as he stood up. “I won’t tap my fingers, promise.”

Percy started climbing the stairs, he was used to being ignored by his siblings but when Oliver did the same he felt his veins get tighter because even though he was obsessed with Quidditch, he was one of the few people on Percy’s level. He was smart, he was determined and he was a perfectionist. He was tall, he had broad shoulders and a hoarse voice, he was as perfect as someone would get but Percy didn’t have the patience to deal with someone like Oliver.

“Percy don’t make me walk there,” he sighed. “You know how lazy I am.”

“I know how lazy you are and I know how stressful you get before games, not just Slytherin games because that’s who you are.”

Percy couldn’t believe what he was saying but he never left anything unfinished, he knew that.

“I know everything about you even though you may think I hate you but you, Oliver, still haven’t learned that I hate it when you out of all people scorn my commitment to my academic life and I’ve had enough. Good luck at the game tomorrow.”

“Aren’t you coming?” asked Oliver, he was looking down like a small child who had been scolded by his parents.

“No, I’m not,” replied Percy firmly. “Why should I support you when you don’t support me?”

“I never thought–”

“Well, there you go,” mocked Oliver. “You never think. I can’t believe I thought I had a crush on you.”

Percy clapped his hand on his mouth as soon as the words left his mouth.


“Um, pretend I never said that,” he mumbled and started running up the stairs.

“Weasley!” yelled Oliver. “I need you at the game tomorrow.”

Percy stopped on his tracks but still, he didn’t speak.

“I play better when you’re there,” smiled Oliver, Percy could hear it in his words. “I can’t help but show off.”

Percy climbed back down slowly and stared at the Gryffindor Keeper who had a wicked smile on his face. 

“I mean only if you want to, of course.”

“You’re an idiot,” teased Percy even though he knew full well that Oliver Wood was no fool.

“I know,” he replied and went back to his game plan as he patted the chair right next to him. “I promise I will be quiet. I don’t know how but you calm me down.”

“That was you calmed down?”


“Merlin help me.”