Not to worry sweetheart let our kids know what mom likes so that in my absence they will bring any bull for you. They knows that I am not their father. Let them know Their biological father is banging their mom and he comes to home at night only..
Here’s a little something for you, because you’re wonderful and your beautiful art brightens up my days. 600 words on soulmates, rated T.
“Do you believe in soulmates?” Draco asks, and Harry’s reply doesn’t come as a surprise, not really.
“Absolutely not,” Harry declares without turning. He stirs the pasta sauce and smacks his lips in satisfaction after tasting it.
Draco can see the explosion of colours in the sky from the kitchen window. His tiny kitchen feels warm and cosy, and his heart flutters like a little bird when Harry turns to smile at him. Merlin, Draco loves this man so much that sometimes it feels like his heart can’t possibly contain all the feelings he has for him.
“How come?” Draco insists, because he loves hearing about Harry’s opinion on pretty much anything.
“I believe we make our own destiny,” Harry says, grabbing a few leaves from Draco’s basil plant and chucking them into the sauce. “I don’t think magic or predestination have anything to do with love.”
It reminds Draco of that thing he read in a Muggle library, about Homo faber suae quisque fortunae. Every man is the artisan of his own destiny.
“What about prophecies?” Draco asks.
Harry snorts, grabbing a pan from the drying rack and filling it with tap water.
He looks absolutely gorgeous in Draco’s kitchen, as if he belonged in his miniature Muggle flat with all the pot plants and the colourful rugs Draco bought at Camden Market.
“I believe you make of them what you want,” Harry replies.
Draco doesn’t tell him about the prophecy that was made about him when he was born. That an old witch predicted Draco would lose everything, only to gain one thing that would be more important than all the rest. Draco knows with every fibre of his being that the prophecy meant Harry, but he doesn’t say it.
He strokes the warm fur of the cat asleep on his lap instead, and Oatmilk purrs in contentment. Draco stretches his legs under the table, and Vanilla plays with the red pompoms of his slippers, her paw touching them carefully and making Draco smile.
“So you don’t believe that people are meant to find each other?” Draco murmurs, but what he actually wants to ask is if Harry doesn’t believe they’re destined to be together.
“We choose who we want to be with,” Harry insists, turning to look him straight in the eyes. His gaze is so intense that Draco feels a flush colouring his own cheeks. “I chose you, Draco. And I choose to be with you every day of my life.”
“Hmm,” Draco mumbles, because he’s this close to saying those three little words he’s never said to anyone. They’ve never felt as real as they feel now with Harry.
He imagines a red thread connecting his little finger to Harry’s, linking them by destiny or love or whatever biggest force rules the universe.
“Draco, we’re together because we are…” Harry starts, his face turning crimson, and Draco is worried he might say something dreadful like sexually compatibleorshagging like rabbits all the time, but Harry moves closer, interlacing their fingers together and bringing Draco’s hand to his lips to kiss it tenderly. “We are…I mean, at least I am…I didn’t mean to presume - Merlin’s pants on fire, why is this so bloody hard?”
Draco stares at him, his eyes widening in understanding as Harry’s ears turn red.
“I love you,” Draco says softly. “So much.”
Harry’s smile blooms on his face, making his eyes crinkle at the corners and his eyes shine so bright.
“I love you too,” he says before leaning closer for a kiss that tastes like basil and sunsets and love.
Boktuo was never one to sit still and do peaceful things with you yet there he was, painting with you. Or rather you were painting on him. Despite the occasionally ticklish fidgeting, he had been the one to suggest you paint on him once he witnessed the smile on your face drop after you had gotten excited to paint with him only to not have any canvases. That’s what led to him being before you, shirtless and aimlessly talking to you about the day he had as you hovered over his back with the paintbrush in your hand, doing your best to capture the pinks and purple hues of the sunset sky while reminding him to keep still every once in a while. While you didn’t do it purposely, your mind wandered from actively paying attention to zoning in on the details of your canvas. He truly was a work of art. “Hello? Earth to y/n?” Bokuto interrupts your admiration as he turns his head as best as he could to look back at you. “ everything okay? You stopped painting, just when it was starting to not feel ticklish and actually feel nice” he pouts, his hair deflating slightly. “Sorry Bo, didn’t mean to” you shake your head lightly as you dip your brush in paint once again. “I was just admiring you. You’re really beautiful you know” you mused, rendering him uncharacteristically speechless and flustered.
Omg omfg ommmfggg this is so fucking sweet!!!! Thank you so so much!!! You totally nailed it!! He would indeed be my favorite canvas!!!!!!! And i would totally drool with every stroke hahaha thank you so so much!! I has having a shitty day but this made so happy!!!
Zen hadn’t expected to find the light on when he’d walked past the rooms where Shirayuki worked, his feet taking him that root, even though he’d been focused on getting to bed as quickly as possible as paperwork had kept him up a lot later than he’d expected. Perhaps it had been instinct he thought, as he frowned at the light streaming from under the door. He knew that it might be one of the others who were working this late, but deep down, he knew that there was only one person who would push herself that hard. He hesitated for a moment. They’d barely had time to say hello in passing, let alone have a real conversation for the past couple of weeks, and he wasn’t sure that this late at night, when they were both exhausted was the best time to break that trend. But, he had missed her, an ache that had grown each day spent apart, and he was already here anyway, and before he knew what he was doing, he was at the door and knocking quietly.
“Mij’s room, or at least, [Yara] assumed it was Mij’s room, was small, cozy without being claustrophobic. A holo of a natborn woman, her beautiful chestnut hair in twin braids down her armored back and a helmet held on her hip, smiled at them as they stepped in. Mij smiled at her, something that seemed habitual, but it was a sad smile.” - snippet from @itsstrangelypermanent
Thought I’d try my hand at visualizing the original Tani Gilamar, Mij’s wife who was killed T_T
this was originally part of a much longer, much sadder story but i remembered i’m allergic to angst so enjoy only these two very sappy pages instead [ID in next reblog!]
The Almighty Johnsons, Anders x Reader smutfic 5806 words
Note: Reader character is female, of at least partial Norwegian descent, has blue-grey eyes and light brown hair, is shorter than Anders, is the goddess Lofn, works for SkyCity Hamilton.
Summary: Part 8 of Lofn Series (Prev parts: 1,2,3,4,5,6,7) As your weekend with Anders draws to a close, he gets jealous to see you out with another man while he’s working. Things get a little heated as you try to talk about it.
CW: Smut, unprotected sex, use of toy, jealousy
“Oskar took Guinevere’s hands in his. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this,’ he said. ‘You know what your father would say.’”
Anders watched as your brow furrowed at the sound of his voice reading to you from the book you’d left on the nightstand. He couldn’t contain his grin as he continued on dramatically, knowing it was slowly coaxing you from your sleep.
“Her chest heaved as she craned her neck, plump lips hovering only inches from his. ‘I can’t deny my feelings a moment longer,’ she declared.”
You opened your eyes and blinked, slowly focusing on him lying beside you on his stomach, your book in his hands, his arms propping him up to read it.
“‘I need you.’ He gripped her hips with his strong hands and kissed her hungrily.” Anders met your gaze, hamming it up even more. “She moaned. ‘Ohh, Oskar.’”
Reblogging now to read as soon as I get home later. This is really testing my self-restraint and I hardly have any when it comes to Anders and especially this series. My eye is twitching.
Uuuuugh jealous Anders is everything
And he’s got a name. He’s got a name. Oh yes…and sexy pictures are coming.
I so hope she’ll move to his city and they’ll see more of each other. God I love this series so much. You’re such a great writer and that was sweet and hot and everything once more.
