Happy birthday poe-dameron! <3
Oscar Isaac for Brioni - Spring/Summer 2024
Warnings: a few spicy shots of Fred
Blue skies filled the air, clouds were nowhere to be seen. The flowers sought water as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were quick to replenish their soil, and the garden gnomes longed for shade as they huddled beneath a leafy tree. The blazing sun sent everyone into a heat stroke, but it was nothing like the effects of Fred Weasley.
You watched as he launched a quaffle through Ron's hoop, his muscles flexing as he did so. His forehead was lined up in a bead of sweat, while his large hands gripped the broomsticks, his smooth, toned abdomen perfectly glistening beneath the sun. He was quick to tug off his shirt when the game had first begun, leaving nothing to your imagination. It was rather annoying that one look from him was all you needed to send your heart rate sky high. You couldn't help but stare, his quidditch physique body was fucking perfect.
Faint laughter pulled you out from your daze as you finally turned around to find the culprits. Ginny and Hermione were giggling like mad at the sight of you. You felt your face grow warm, not doubting that you were a bright sade of pink.
"Ron's not gonna be real happy, Ginny teased, sipping on her glass of sweet tea.
Hermione began to laugh, "Seriously, y/n his older brother?"
"What in merlins name are you two on about?" You almost winced, you were a terrible liar.
"Don't be daft, y/n you were practically drooling" Ginny chimed, falling into another chim as your face turned blood red. You were positive you looked sunburnt by now.
"What's so funny?" Ron exclaimed, joining the three of you with his broom in his hand. The game was officially over, and the twins were sure to follow.
You sent daggers to Ginny's way.
"Probably your shitty plays," George mused, ruffling Ron's hair until it stood up from all ends. You noticed Hermione's cheeks like she wasn't exactly subtle either.
"I'll race you lot to the showers!" Another voice called out.
You froze right on the spot, your eyes farting everywhere but the sexy man before you. You cleared your throat, trying to return all of your senses back to your body. It was not working.
Ron's eyebrows thread together. He tilted his head to the side, asking you if you were alright. You nodded quickly, prompting him to continue his silent interrogation.
You felt his eyes burning holes into your forehead, praying to Merlin that Ginny would keep her face shut.
"Kids! Time for dinner!" Molly called, beckoning you all inside through the window.
You sucked in a breath when Fred stretched as Fred stretched, beginning to pull his shirt back on over his head. You felt your knees buckle.
Then suddenly, you were speeding through the tall grass, ignoring the confused looks that were bound to take place behind you.
Ron scratched his head as he watched you enter the burrow, growing more confused when his sister toppled over in laughter.
"What the bloody hell is going on?"
You found yourself, sighing finally content under the ruby sheets of Ginny's bed. Her walls were covered in posters, many of which featured the Chudley Cannons and the Holyhead Harpies. You also spotted The Cranberries and other muggle bands that Hermione introduced you too. There wasn't an inch of wall that was left bare.
Chatting with the girls had been going well. They seemed to have forgotten about the events of the afternoon, indulging in their shared bag of sweets while also discussing their plans for the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. But when three readheads had decided to join you, two of which being the identical twins, you felt your heart begin to race once more.
Ron took the seat next to you, slightly offering you one of his chocolate frogs. You took it gratefully, sending him a smile in thanks. You could always rely on your best friend.
Sitting quietly between them all, you kept to yourself as they made conversation. You knew that if you opened your mouth even just an inch all eyes would be on you. After the stunt you pulled, you were sure that you would be bombarded with questions. And you did not have a death wish.
You found your eyes studying Fred, who was animatedly chatting with his brother. As usual, he and George seemed very excited to share about one of their newest joke products. You admired the dips and curves of his features, tracing each one of his freckles with your eyes. His smile caused your heart to flutter, and your lips to curve upward as well.
You jumped slightly when his eyes met yours.
His smile turned into a lazy smirk, that of a child who knows just how much trouble they've caused. He didn't look away, keeping his warm gaze on you as though he was enjoying the effect he had. You would have turned away, but the fear, the fear that was bubbling up in your chest left you panicking in your place. You were although rather glad when George wacked Fred up the side of his head.
"Oi!" Fred groaned, turning to his twin brother. "What was that for you git?"
"Ronald here, was asking you a question," George teased. You didn't miss the suggestive eyebrow wiggle he sent you. He was obviously amused.
Ron repeated his question. "How do you plan on opening the shop?"
"We've got tricks up our sleeves Ronniekins. Don't you even worry about us"
You giggled as Fred ruffled Ron's shaggy hair. Hiding in your blush as you munched on another chocolate frog. But you didn't miss the grin that Fred had sent you.
And unbeknownst to you, neither did Ron.
It had been five days. Five days of just sitting by the pond and admiring his soaking wet hair. Five days of staying up late after bed, just to hear Fred strumming on his guitar from across the hall. Five days of Fred's merciless, taunting, beautiful honey brown gaze.
You thought you would be a goner by now. Practically dropping dead when you caught him exiting the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his waist.
But here you are, still living and breathing. Under the same roof as Fred Weasley.
You leaned your head into your palm, thinking hard before making your move on the chess board before you. You were seated uncomfortably on the living room floor, Ron on the other end while anxiously drumming his fingers against the coffee table.
"Queen to ES" you ordered, smiling proudly when you took out his knight. You looked up to bask in his downfall. But you were surprised, Ron didn't look defeated.
"You okay?" You chuckled, noticing the way he vigorously nodded his head. He, too was a shitty liar.
You sent him a knowing look as he manually moved his piece.
"You can be scary sometimes, did you know that?"
You only smiled, watching curiously as he turned around to examine his surroundings. He must have had a huge secret to tell.
"I know," he began, sending you a faint smirk.
You stared at him blankly, slowly tilting your head.
He rolled his eyes. "I mean, I know, I know about Fred."
Your eyes went wide, causing his smirk to grow. You felt as though your limbs had caught fire.
"Fred? What are you talking about, Ron?" You mumbled, ignoring his eyes as you reached to move your knight. Ron stopped you.
"It's okay," he smiled, casually sliding the game to the end of the table. He leaned forward on his elbows.
"If you think that I'm going to stop you, I won't," he continued, "although, it will always bewilder me that Fred, my brother, the boy who farted on the train in our first year, is the bloke you have chosen," He teased.
You spit out a laugh, thinking back on the found memory. 11 year old you would not believe that "Farting Fredrick" had become the most charming boy in all of Hogwarts. He was remembered as the boy who had vandalized the portraits and locked Filch in broom cupboards. But he was no longer the dork who would snuck bogey flavored beans into your Honeydukes bag and he had you falling hard.
"You know he fancies you too?" Ron chuckled, twirling his wand between his fingers. "I heard with George last night. He wouldn't shut up about you"
Peering out the window with wide eyes, you found a tall ginger sitting out in the yard. And that was all you needed to hear before racing out the door.
You took a deep breath in when you found him, having to remind yourself to stay calm in his presence. His hair was windswept, reminding you of the many times he would race down the corridors of the school. He seemed deep in thought, making the same twisted face that he would often do when he was designing new prank products. You absolutely adored it.
To your surprise, it wasn't very difficult to see Fred in a new light. It was as though you always thought him to be charming and handsome. Maybe these feelings were locked away somewhere. Or maybe you were just too terrified to let them free.
With a shaky breath, you marched over to his spot on the old, creaky bench.
Fred's eyes shot up, smiling when he found you. It was less cheeky then it usually was. You took that as a good sign.
"Why Hi, there," Fred chuckled, craning his head to get a better look at you, you often hid behind your hair, but he was quick to tuck it away. You felt your face heat immediately. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
You felt a nervous laughter bubble in your chest. "You looked a little lonely."
"You sure you didn't just miss me?" Fred teased, shuffling closer to your side. "I am, of course quite the entertainer."
You rolled your eyes, opting to smile into the evening breeze.
"I have a secret." You mumbled, not daring to face him. "But I'll only tell you if you tell me a secret of your own."
You heard Fred laugh from beside you, feeling a sense of relief when he agreed.
If your theory was correct, and you were praying to Merlin that it was, Fred would confess everything that Ron had heard the night before. And it would be the end of the cat and mouse game.
"One," you began, trying to calm your racing heart. It didn't help that he was staring.
"Two," he continued biting back his smile.
"Three!"
"I can't stop thinking about you!"
"I've fancied you since my third year!"
You felt your eyes go wide, your mouth dropping open as your heart hammered against your chest. You weren't sure if you had heard him right. Since his third year?
And that was it for you two. It seemed as though you each seized the moment, pulling the other impossibility close as you closed the gap between you. It was passionate but soft, the way first kisses should be. And it felt good to finally know the feeling of his broad shoulders and large hands.
It was like he was chiselled by Godric himself.
He pulled back slightly, donning a dreamy smile as he mumbled against your lips, "we have an audience."
Your head whipped around, gasping as you found Ron, Ginny, Hermione and George gossiping through the window. You heard Ron scoff, shouting something along the lines of "if you hurt her I will bloody murder you!" Through the glass.
You giggled like a young school girl, turning to have Fred's breath clash with yours. You could finally admire his honey brown eyes from up close.
"Like what you see?" He smiled pressing a kiss to your flushed cheek.
"Don't worry" he chuckled "I do too"
I am entirely reasonable and 100% completely normal about this man.
dear non-spanish speakers writing spiderverse fanfiction (or anything with spanglish),
in spanglish you don’t switch by word, you switch by phrase.
it’s not:
“[first part of the sentence in english], [second part of the sentence in english], mi amor.”
“[full english sentence], querida.”
it’s:
“[first part of the sentence in english], [segunda parte de la frase en español], mi amor.”
-
also miles is boricua, miguel is mexican. they have two different accents and use different vocabulary for certain words.
also miles is “nyourican” - a puerto rican native to new york - while his mom is directly from the island, so there are differences there, too, because his spanish is more influence by new york english. 
here’s some good references that aren’t google translate (which usually pulls from spain, a country that speaks vastly differently from latin america)
here have some random videos on different slang/spanish accents:
-
in spanish most words are gendered, so most feminine words end in a and masculine/gender neutral words end in o. adding ito/ita makes something cuter, smaller and more affectionate.
spanish nicknames that aren’t “mi amor”
- “querido/a” - darling
- “cariño” - dear (always masculine regardless, of who its being said to)
- “mi princesa/príncipe” - my prince/princess
- “mi rey/reina” - my king/queen
- “papí/mamí” - can be used in any way; romantic, sexual, familial for one’s parent or child, or just platonically
- “tesoro” - treasure
also spanish is a language that uses adjectives as terms of affection both cute ones and ones that might sound insensitive in english
- gordo (fat), flaco (skinny), negro (black), blanco (white), linda (pretty), bella (beautiful), morena (brown skin), etc.
and like most languages that are not english, spanish has multiple ways of saying i love you.
- “te amo” - romantic
- “te quiero” - familial, platonic (although there’s nothing wrong with using it romantically)
see also:
- te adoro - i adore you
- te deseo - i want you
- te necesito - i need you
 and, of course, they can vary regionally too.
please use this because i have read a lot of really well written things that take me out of it because the use of spanglish is terrible. don’t just go on your presumptions that spanish/spanglish works in the same way that english does.
buena suerte, gringos.
- signed your friendly neighborhood afro-latina
A mood for 2023
me @ y/n when they do something i’d never do:
like babe this isn’t us ?? get it together
just some short and sweet pregnant!reader x daryl dixon (about 900 words)
please feel free to leave me feedback and show your support by reblogging!
warnings: pregnancy, mention of Lori, super sweet soft daryl and protective daryl
era: prison (season 3 episode 4 spoilers!!!!) (set specifically after woodbury joins the prison.)
-
After watching Carl and Rick grieve after the loss of Lori when she gave birth to the youngest Grimes, you and Daryl swore you would be more careful when participating in intimate activities. It hadn’t ever been an issue with you two, and a baby was something you’d thought you never have to worry about. But as they say, one thing led to another, and here you are three months out from your last period, and two undoubtedly expired, yet strongly positive pregnancy tests tucked inside of Daryl’s pillowcase.
You and Daryl were anxious of course, yet elated at the thought of not only another little one running around the prison, but for them to be yours. Nights upon nights you and Daryl have stayed up far too long discussing baby names, having playful debates over whether it’ll be a boy or a girl, and secret words of love and admiration that fell through the two of your lips. You hadn’t yet told anyone, wanting it to be for just you and come out when you were ready, unlike the choice Lori had, but you had a feeling that your group had started to figure you out.
Maybe it was the way Daryl would give you his portion of dinner which led into a quiet argument about who needed it more. “Y’re eatin for two.” “And you need energy to keep the two of us safe.” Carol began giving you a bit more than everyone else, and that’s when you were sure she knew.
Or it could of been the way he was overly protective of you anytime Rick wanted you to go on a run or do anything for that matter. “Y/n will you go-” “Go where? I’ll do it.” “Daryl I’ve got it, I’ll be okay.” “No. Ya ain’t goin’. That’s final.” Rick instead began asking you to tend to the garden, so he might have had a suspicion as well.
It could have also been the way Daryl’s eyes watched you as you helped with Judith, the overwhelming love and longing in his eyes as you cradled the baby and sang to her softly as Beth watched from the sidelines. “You’re droolin more than the baby Daryl.” “Shut up.” Yeah, Beth definitely had an idea.
“I think we’re gonna have to tell everyone soon,” you told Daryl, as you slipped your night shirt over your head, turning back around to see his eyes already on you.
“If you’re ready,” he agreed.
“When you look at me like that, the whole world knows,” you said, making your way toward him to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands instinctively found your waist, looking down toward your stomach.
“Can’t help it, you’ve got a little bump too,” he breathed, a smile spreading on his lips. You smiled back, bringing your lips to his before flicking off the lamp and leading him to your makeshift mattress on the floor.
Soft whispers floated in the air, Daryl’s hand resting gently on your stomach, your hand lost in the growing locks that sat at the base of his neck. Your eyes closed as you took a deep breath, reveling in the smell of him that surrounded you.
“Ya alright?” Daryl questioned, his fingers that had found there way under your shirt rubbing small unidentifyable shapes over the tiny bump on your stomach. You nodded, blinking slowly before looking up at his concerned gaze, a sleepy smirk on your lips.
“More than,” you muttered, scooting over on the mattress so you were impossibly close to him. Digging your head into his chest, he let out a breathy chuckle as he repositioned his arms around you and the leg you had throw over his body, before placing a sweet kiss to your head. He felt the vibrations of your voice against his chest as you spoke but he rolled his eyes as he didn’t catch a single word you were saying.
“Ya know I can’t hear ya when you do this,” he teased, moving back slightly so your face was exposed. He didn’t miss the whine that left your lips as your contact separated and you looked up at him with a pout.
“Whatcha poutin’ for girl?” he asked, placing his hand on the side of your face.
“Was jus’ telling you I love you, didn’t mean I wanted you to go away.”
“ ‘M still right here sunshine, now come on, ya need sleep.” Before you could disagree, a yawn ripped from your throat, a light chuckle following from both you and the man in front of you. You nodded, pushing yourself up from the mattress to reach his lips and kiss him tenderly.
“Goodnight Dar,” you smiled before rubbing your tummy, “goodnight little guy.”
“Gonna be a girl,” he grumbled.
“Keep dreamin’ Dixon, ‘s mother’s intuition. We can always have another.” Daryl laughed again a light shake of his head.
“Let’s get through this one first, goodnight girls. Love ya both.” You rolled your eyes, kissing him once more before laying back down instantly falling asleep in the comfort of his arms.
“I love how she’s kind of thinking out loud about it. And every woman will see themselves in that sequence. I just have no doubt.” - Lana Wilson
You’re On Your Own, Kid (2023) // Miss Americana (2019) // Variety interview (2020) // Bejeweled (2023) // Elle interview (2019) // Anti-Hero (2023)
Lavender Haze (2023)
You got so much time with her. Yes I did. HAWKEYE (2021) 1.06 | So this is Christmas
Christmas Movie Night- B.Barnes
Summary: A Christmas movie night for the Avengers, Y/N and Bucky get cozy on the couch.
Pairings: Bucky x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Use of Y/N, female reader, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, (please let me know if I missed any)
Author's Note: I know I am very behind on the fics for December, thankfully this week is the last of the semester so hopefully I will be able to put out the fics I'm behind on and catch up. My asks are open so feel free to send is questions, suggestions and feedback. To all of the college students who are taking finals this week, good luck! You will do great!
Disclaimer: This account is not my primary blog, my primary blog is @breakingmalum. If you see a reply under that blog it is still me.
Word Count: 764
Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!
Enjoy Reading! masterlist
sometimes plushies make me cry because it’s like. they’re little guys made to be loved. their only purpose is to be held and hugged and loved. we made them because we love making things and we love loving things. and they’re so cute
Years back, I was working at a specialty store, and we got this HUGE crate of plushy toys. They were all insanely cute and squishy. I knew kids would go nuts for them, as it was the first week of December, so parents and grandparents often had kids with them while shopping for furniture, lamps, cooking equipment, lights, etc.
One night, I was working my last hour of my shift covering the Customer Service desk, which meant when I wasn't busy, I was supposed to help clean up around the cash registers, including taking back items people changed their minds about at the checkout. Earlier, I had witnessed a kid carrying thos cute plushy toy. It was a brown and white hedgehog. The kid, at the checkout, saw a remote control car and he told his dad he qanted it. The dad told him, "The plushy or the car- you can't have both" (by the way, I respect boundaries with kids and parents sticking to their guns about it), and the kid picked the car.
So, I'm cleaning up, have less than an hour left of my shift, and I see the little plushy hedgehog. Somehow, he never got put back nor had anyone else seen him and decided to buy him. He was just sitting there, slumped to the side, unattended.
It's Christmas and I'm a sentimental old sap at heart. My brain starts replaying the scene from RUDOLPH where he's on the Island of Misfot Toys, and is told a toy is never truly happy until it is loved. I picked him up and quickly took him back to the bin with the plushies but... It was empty. He was literally the last plushy toy and my boss was about to wheel the bin out. We weren't getting any more toys till November, so that meant any toys left at this point needed to sell or they'd be sent to the dump.
I brought the little hedgehog to the front, figuring someone would see him with the candy, candles, & Christmas brick-a-brack, and fall in love with him. When I finished my shift, I went to ask my manager a question and as I passed the Christmas candle display - there he sat, the sad little slumped over hedgehog plushy. No one had bought him, or even moved him.
My manager, Phillip, saw me and the hedgehog. He asked how the hedgehog got there. I told him how I'd put him there when the bin got sent back, and he was the only plushy left. Philip had kids, I figured he'd probably get sentimental and buy it for his kids. Nope. He shrugged and said he'd send it back to be disposed of.
That night, I came home with a plushy hedgehog in my passenger seat. My mom saw him and just thought he was the cutest little hedgehog and asked what I wanted to do with him. I told her the story, then added I didn't know exactly what I wanted to do with him.
My mom is a child psychiatrist, specializing in children with PTSD and brain damage that results in learning problems/issues with processing their emotions. She asked if she could have the plushy hedgehog (even offered to pay me for him, she didn't expect me to just give him over), so kids could hug him when they were upset in session.
Murphy, the plushy hedgehog that still slumps a little to the left when seated, has been hugged by hundreds of kids. Little girls have held him tight while explaining about bullies, little boys have held him tight while crying over their panic attacks, younger siblings have held him to whisper secrets while elder siblings and parents talk about self-soothing techniques, teenagers have hugged Murphy while talking about the worst day of their lives. Murphy has also been hugged by kids excitedly chatting about a new friend at school, a teen girl excited to be called by her name instead of her dead-name, little kids proudly saying they've mastered their ABCs, and even staff members who just need to come chat over a case they are having trouble with.
Every now and then, my mom brings Murphy home for a weekend. He gets washed (she calls it a Spa Weekend, to her coworkers, all of them laughing), dried, and sits outside with my mom in the sunshine to get aired out, then on Monday, they are back to work. Some kids even just ask to hold Murphy while they talk, no matter their mood or what they want to talk about. They just want to hug Murphy.
So yes. Plushies are made for one purpose. To be hugged and loved. To be a comfort.
Boys come and go, but Taylor Swift is forever 🥰
September is Bi Visibility month so shoutout to all my bisexual pals out there! I love you, you are amazing 💗
STEVE HARRINGTON | 4.09 - THE PIGGYBACK
I must be stopped