“ Kisses in the Library“ Matt was mid-sentence, explaining some obscure concept from his textbook, when you leaned over the table and kissed him square on the lips. His words faltered, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson as he blinked at you in surprise. “What—what was that for?” he stammered, adjusting his glasses as if that would make the heat on his face disappear. You shrugged, smiling coyly. “You looked cute when you were talking.” Matt fumbled with the corner of his notebook, his lips twitching into a shy smile. “Oh… well… thanks.”
“Dye Disaster“ You twirled the box of pink hair dye in your hand, grinning as Matt watched you with a mix of suspicion and panic. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, scooting back against the couch as if you were armed with something dangerous. “Relax, I’m not actually going to dye your hair… unless you fall asleep,” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows. Matt groaned, running a hand through his hair protectively. “You’re evil.” You laughed, tossing the box back on the counter. “Fine, your precious hair is safe. For now.”
“ Lost in the Notes” You plucked a sticky note off Matt’s desk, squinting at his messy handwriting. “Is this a formula or a grocery list?”Matt looked up from his laptop, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s a formula,” he said. “But I think there’s also something about eggs on there.” You burst out laughing, holding up another sticky note. “This one just says ‘Ask her out already.’” His face turned beet red as he snatched the note out of your hand. “That’s from months ago. Ignore that.” You smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “You’re lucky I said yes.”
“Messy Study Sessions ” Books and papers were scattered across Matt’s dorm room, and you were lying on the bed, doodling in the margins of his notes. “Are you even helping?” he asked, glancing at you over his laptop. “I’m moral support,” you replied, grinning as you held up a drawing of a stick figure labeled “Matt.” He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky I like having you around.” “Lucky? Or essential to your process?” you teased, tossing a pillow at him.
“ Sorority Event Savior” Matt had shown up to your sorority’s charity auction despite claiming he didn’t do “social events.” When you caught him mingling with the other girls, charming them with his quick wit, you pulled him aside. “I thought you didn’t like these things.” “I don’t,” he admitted, his smile softening. “But you do. And that’s enough for me.”
Hi!! I love your writing so much and just saw your post about asks👀 do you think you could write a Steve and female reader fluff about different ways he'd kiss her? Like little blurbs🥰 idk, whatever you want! Thanks babe
I gave it a good go but never done anything like this before!! Thanks so much for the request! It ain't much, but it's honest work <3
Different ways Steve would kiss reader.
Steve is guilty of kissing you for so long that when Dustin shouts him from the car, he starts walking backwards, bringing you with him slightly, dragging his lips away at the very last moment, with one extra peck for good measure.
Kisses behind the ear. Whilst he typically stands between you and danger, he will most often situate himself behind you in a group. His hands on your hips, he'll catch you off guard with a hum and a kiss behind your ear, validating the points you make. If it’s a particularly good point he will hold the kiss for just a little longer.
He loves to give your forehead kisses. He admits he looks a little submissive when he gives them but you convinced him it was the least submissive thing about him. It took him some time to realise what you meant by that.
If he doesn’t kiss you satisfactorily the first time, he will go back and kiss you again till it feels right. He can’t leave you without giving you just the right amount of affection. It’s an unfortunate side affect of almost dying every year for four years.
When you tentatively wake Steve from his nightmares, he takes a few moments to realise where he is before his lips are on yours, his hand holding your face passionately, afraid if he let’s go, you will disappear. The kisses are breathless and clumsy but they mean more to him than anything. To know that you are there and you love him.
Done on my phone so it'll have typos and mistakes. There is a very slight mention of religion in here but not enough to really matter. Bones grew up in Georgia so I guess he knows how to cross himself. Right? Someone's in trouble 👀 can you guess who?
-H❤🖖
James T. Kirk stopped short upon entering his ready room. Cocking his head to the side with curiosity he eyed his best friend and CMO.
"Hey, Bones," he greeted cautiously as he moved toward his desk. McCoy glanced up from his PADD and grunted in acknowledgment. Kirk slowly sat down in his chair with multiple different thoughts and scenarios going through his mind.
"Everything okay?" He prompted slowly making McCoy grunt in response again. The Captain rolled his eyes, "Bones," the unsaid order was clear in his voice.
McCoy sighed looking up at him a little sheepishly, which in turn threw Kirk for a loop. "Mind if I stick around here for a bit, Chris is minding the shop and things are...not dire for once."
Jim leaned forward in his seat at the sound of Bones' tone of voice. "You okay, everything alright with (Y/N)?" He asked concerned.
McCoy cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck, "I'm fine, we're fine. She's just uh havin' a day that's all,"
Jim raised an eyebrow thinking about the possible situation sitting in front of him. The amused smirk on his face grew into a grin, "Are you hiding?" He asked almost joyously. Bones shot him a withering glare,
"She can be like a feral cat when she's mad. I'm just happy it's not directed at me," McCoy muttered looking down at his PADD again. Kirk barked out a laugh that grew a little nervous at the end. Clearing his own throat Jim fiddled with his stylus.
"Who-who is she mad at?" Jim tried to keep his voice casual. Leonard snickered, "You really think I'd be hidin' here if she were mad at you?" He pointed out dryly.
Kirk relaxed ever so slightly in relief. "Who is she mad at?" He asked again a little less wavering this time.
"Spock, one of his little pet projects escaped and found its way into (Y/N)'s quarters. She doesn't do spiders, Jim, alien or otherwise," McCoy's tone was like the Sahara.
Kirk coughed covering up his laugh, "I guess that's the reason why Spock has been so jumpy- well, jumpy for him anyway," he murmured remembering how Spock was on the bridge. The Vulcan would twitch every time the lift doors opened.
"Oh even better, it crawled into the shower with her," McCoy added with a little grimace his mind flashing back to how he had been woken up to the sound of phaser fire coming from the bathroom.
Jim choked on his own spit, "He's dead!" the captain practically gasped no longer able to hold in his chuckles any longer.
Leonard hummed in agreement, "Her vengeance will be swift and painful. May whatever gods out there have mercy on his Katra," he grumbled making a vague cross with his fingers over his chest.
hi love, first off I wanted to say how much I love your writing! secondly, and idea for a blurb: breaking up with George and meeting him again after a few months/years and maybe going back together? idk I want something angsty
Much love 🤍
Hi nonny dear!!! You're much too kind! Despite having writen something like this before I'm obsessed with the idea so here, have this!
You were together for a while. Long enough to go on holiday with friends but not long enough to meet the parents or anything. During the while you and George had spent the majority of your time together, the thing that weighed so heavily on your bond that it broke, was the time you spent away from each other. With his job, and all the travel, and the way your life had been working out, neither of you had much time for each other.
When George finally got back home, he arrived to the news that he'd been cast in another role that required his presence in an all new country, far from home as ever. And just when you were all eager to tell him about the new path in life you'd been gifted the chance to take. Suddenly all the good news seemed more bitter than sweet. And during the week you and Geogre devoted to spending entirely together, you both slowly came to the realization that that week would be your last.
It wasn't easy to decide. George kept approaching the subject, but couldn't say the words. You kept pretending to listen but would cast your gaze to the nearest corner, unable to bear the reality of the truth. And finally, after a shared bottle of wine and a long bout of quiet that settled in after the film you were watching faded to black, you cried and called it quits.
You stayed together that night still, before you gave each other some encouraging parting words, half-heartedly hoping the best for one another. And then you went on your entirely separate ways.
Life was cruel that way. It tore you from the things you thought you wanted more than air. And after a couple of weeks of wallowing in your pity, right when you'd gotten used to being on your own again, you ran into George. He was home for the holidays, out to dinner with his family where you waited to meet friends at the bar.
It was an utter delight to see him, and he reached to hug you like no time had passed. Just as quickly George introduced you to his folks. You gave them each pleasant and warm greeting before meeting up with your friends at the bar, while his crew shuffled to find a table.
Back to feeling sorry yourself it was, especially when your friends shot you knowing looks on your walk to meet them as planned.
Life moved on though. You worked and lived without fighting the flow, and only saw George if a mutual friend dared sneak a snapshot of the fella to post on social media. Years passed just like that. Months of hard work. The occasional tragedy, or miracle throwing you a bit off rhythm. Parties and funerals and holidays and stormy nights.
And then you saw him again. At a resort, in a city neither of you lived in. He shouted your name from across the lobby of a fancy hotel and you abandoned your date to go rushing to George for a hug, his arms already outstretched, welcoming as ever.
You laughed hard about how you'd ended up in the same place, at the same time, out of all the places and times in the world. And then you floated your separate ways like always. Somehow, beaming and aching in ways you hadn't been before running into the well built, soft-haired guy.
Your date was a little pissed that you'd failed to introduce them to George in the couple of minutes he'd graced you with his presence. You spent that vacation making it up to the date that ended up ghosting you a week after you arrived home.
Life went on like that. Failed dates. Birthdays. Brunch parties, and deadlines.
And then you saw George again. You'd actually seen him throughout the past year or so, shopping at the same markets, and going out with the same friends. He was always kind, and cared enough to ask after you.
"You're both absolute idiots." A friend rang, after you'd run into George at the park, and shared a chat before he reluctantly continued his mid-morning run.
"I'm sorry?" You choked on a small, fauxly offended laugh as you strolled sleepily at your friends side.
"Why don't you just date?" She exasperated. Like the sight of you and George apart personally disgruntled her.
"You know we tried." You pointed. Trying not to let too big a frown pull at your lips. "Isn't it obvious we're better as friends?"
"No." Your friend called back, shooting you a look. She scolded you a bit longer about not letting Geogre get away the next time your paths crossed. You hadn't ever seen it that way. You thought your run ins with George were small bonuses granted on account of your decision to stay apart. You feared approaching the chance of being with him again would only result much like your last and only effort.
And then you saw him again. At that same mutual friend's wedding. The worst occasion. As if you weren't already worked up by the speech your friend had given you, being in the midst of the most romantic setting wasn't going to help you start any kind of conversation with George.
It was an intimate affair. A backyard ceremony and an in house reception. Foods and wine spread across the roomy, yet quaint ranch style home.
"Here, for you." George was at your side as one slow song faded into another. In his hand, your drink of choice.
"You didn't have to-" You started to laugh a little at his greeting, an offer you didn’t have reason to refuse.
"I did actually. It was the last one on the tray and you don't look like you're having any fun. So here." George gently shoved the glass to your chest and lifted his own chute of champagne to toast. You let out a sigh and gave into his very generous demands.
"How's it you look better every time I see you? Isn't getting older supposed to turn us all grey and sad?" You joked, taking into account Georges tailored suit, the structure of his face, his smile. It hadn't been too long since last you'd seen him across traffic and lifted a hand to wave. But it had been a year or two since last you'd stood close enough to study the loose fit of his tie, and the wave of his hair.
George rolled his eyes and let his grin grow, before lifting to sip from the drink in his hand. And for a while you stood there like that, trading small talk about life and where it had taken you. And then your dear friend, the bride, the woman of the hour, marched over to meet you and George.
"If anyone dares upstage my wedding, it'd better be you two." She declared, reaching for your wrist, and then George's. "Now get out there and dance together so none of us have to listen to you idiots complain about how you miss each other and wonder what the other one is up to."
You'd barely accounted for the song playing, or the other people pushed close together on the dance floor, as you were flung to join in. Before you could even find your footing, George was pulling you a little closer, out of the way of a great aunt who was only capable of repeating a drunken version of the charleston.
He placed either of his hands on your waist, as yours found his shoulders, and then you looked right at George, and you realized your friend was right.
"You still ask everyone how I'm doing?" You wondered in a whisper, peering into George's ocean eyes. He only kept his gaze fixed, and his lip between his teeth, and nodded his head. You were entirely entranced, and one thousand percent at a loss. Where did you turn now? What did you ask? What if what you wanted wasn't the same...
But you didn't have to ask. Because Geogre leaned in, and kissed you like he used too. Like you hadn't stopped sharing kisses since the short time you used too. He held you near, his fingers pressing ever closer. He still smelled like you remembered, so sweet and warm. He still let out a delighted little hum before you parted for air. And George still smiled at you like he used too, like he always did, when you gazed back up to him, unable to hide your blush.
Maybe no one noticed the pair of you slip out of the party early. Or maybe your friend had been counting on it. Maybe you and George were always meant to be together. Or maybe that time apart wasn't wasted, between all those run in's and hello's throughout the years. Maybe life together would be just as tricky to navigate together as it used to be. But you weren't going to let George get away this time, and he'd promised the same thing, unprompted and often.
Elly deciding to her papa a makeover with her fairy hair clips and purple hair ties, she’s having the best time with the grown out curls 😌
i think this got eaten by my notfs because I just saw this but...
“Papa! Stop moving so much! I’m trying to work here!” Eloise scoffed and patted Calum’s shoulders as he once again giggled out whenever Eloise would pull a little too roughly at his curls.
“I’m sorry princess! It just tickles!” Calum whined, “How’s it going up there? Almost have me ready and all made up for our tea party?”
“Mhm, we just need to add lipgloss! Your hair is done, papa.”
And with half of his curls in fairy clips the other in hair ties that left glitter stuck onto his curls, Calum puckered his lips.
I haven’t written in a hundred years. This has seriously been sitting in my drafts uncompleted for two whole holiday seasons...oops. I don’t even know if people still read stuff like this anymore lol. Anyways enjoy! And please reblog if you like it!
The bitter breeze elicited goosebumps through his body, the windbreaker he was wearing failing to keep him warm. He forcefully tugged his suitcase behind him, the wheels getting stuck in the muddy remnants of snow that covered the floor. The sun was just starting to rise and yet all Ashton want’ed to do was crawl into a nice warm bed and sleep for 10 hours.
Another cold chill flew through the air before he could approach the door. His fingers were rendered useless in the coldness causing the keys to fumble to the ground instead of into the lock. He cursed to himself. He shook his head letting droplets of snow tumble from his head to the flooring beneath him.
“Holy shit, it’s f-F-Freezing outside,” he hissed, quietly. He shimmied out of his jacket before bending down to free his feet from the shackles of his leather boots. His right sock was soaked in the heel thanks to the hole his boots had acquired from endless traveling for the last seven months.
He quickly rid himself of his soaked socks. His feet instantly melting into the plush white rug at his feet. The rug hadn’t been there when he left several months ago so he was taken aback. He looked down and smiled, the white fluffy rug was actually just the beard of a larger rug of Santa’s face.
Ashton was hit with an overwhelming aroma of cinnamon when he stood to his full height. He took a deep breath, his eyes closing in content as he soaked up the holiday scent. His body instantly felt warm – which he later learned was because she had the thermostat set to 75 degrees.
He continued down the hallway only to be met by Mr. Jingles, your elderly and overweight cat. Mr. Jingles nudged Ashton’s leg, grey tufts of fur now making a home on Ashton’s pant leg. He didn’t mind too much in fact, he had grown to miss the appearance of Mr. Jingle’s fur on his wardrobe. Ashton knelt down to greet Mr. Jingles who purred in satisfaction.
“Where’s mommy?” Ashton asked still scratching under Mr. Jingles’s chin.
Mr. Jingles let out a soft meow before trotting back down the hallway. Ashton followed behind him. As he made his way around the corner he marveled at all the work you had done. Somehow you had transformed the small apartment into a Christmas wonderland.
Garland was strung around the archway between the kitchen and main room. Christmas music played softly from the vintage record player that sat in the corner of the room. The Christmas tree was set up directly in front of the window. The lights flickering in a soothing way. Ashton smiled to himself, again, when he noticed the tree was without a topper. Putting the topper on the tree was Ashton’s favorite memory as a kid and though he had only mentioned it to you once you remembered.
Ashton was so caught up in the decorations that he almost missed you tucked away on the sofa. Your body was covered by your favorite fleece blanket and your head laid haphazardly on an Elf themed throw pillow. Your reindeer slippers were the only indication that there was a body on the couch.
Ashton was a few steps away from you when Mr. Jingles took off running towards the wall, tripping Ashton in the process. Ashton tumbled towards you landing with a thud on the hard floor. Mr, Jingles looked back at Ashton momentarily before leaping into the air swatting the red dot the appeared and disappeared on the wall. Your beloved reindeer slippers were the source of the light but Mr. Jingles preferred to shadow rather than the source.
You began to stir, your eyes fluttering open to find Ashton on the ground beside you. Ashton looked up at you with a weak smile.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.”
You sat up, making room for Ashton on the couch. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
Ashton took the seat next to you before pulling you into his chest. He kissed the top of your head, taking in the cinnamon and pine tree scent that had overtaken your usual vanilla scent.
“Did you really stay up all night decorating to surprise me?”
You let out a breathy laugh. “Did you really expect to come home a week before Christmas to a Christmas-less house?”
“Of course not, after all, I do live with Buddy the Elf,” he teased. “But this is a bit much even for you.”
“I just wanted you to feel the Christmas spirit the minute you got home.”
“Don’t you know all I need for Christmas is you?” He pulled you close again, this time placing a kiss on your lips.
He left you only for a moment to get out of his airport clothes and into a warm pair of pajamas. Of course, they were a Christmas pair that you had so thoughtfully left out on his side of the bed. When he came back into the living room you had a Christmas movie queued up and a plate of cookies on the table.
“Cookies for breakfast?” he teased, grabbing on and popping it into his mouth.
“Holiday season calls for cookies for every meal!”
Ashton smiled cuddling into your side. He let out a sigh before his eyes fluttered closed for a moment. He was finally home. You were his home.
Bill Turcotte asking the reader out because he thought she was really pretty and they end up falling in love.
The way I danced around cuz someone FINALLY sent a bill ask. Yall know how I feel about this one... let's dive in!
"Excuse me," A timid call stopped you from turning the corner. The town was bustling, but you weren't in any real hurry. So you stopped at the sound of a voice over your shoulder and looked up to find the most striking man you'd ever laid eyes on.
You'd seen him around, actually. He'd moved into town early in the month with another guy who your boss was absurdly suspicious of. But once the pair breezed into town, they seemed to settle into the background all the same. You hadn't seen much of either of them till now.
"Can I help you?" You wondered with a small grin, totally clueless as to any reason he'd have to catch your attention. You watched the guy with bright blue eyes, search your face. And then he shifted his weight a bit, and opened his mouth to speak, though the word didn't start to come for a beat longer.
"I've just... seen you around town," He began, in a charming draw you hadn't noticed till now. Oh he just kept getting cuter, didn't he? "And-and I was just sort of hopin' you'd like to come to the diner with me, sometime?"
"Are you asking me on a date?" You chuckled a little, stepping out of the way of a crowd of people hurrying by.
"Only if you want," The guy continued to stutter, making himself seem small even at the impressive height he stood. You watched in wonder, trying to imagine a time you'd seen him around, your heart fluttering at the thought of him noticing you.
"What's your name?" You laughed, crossing your arms to keep your heart from beating right out into the street.
"I'm Bill." He shook his head, straightening a little. "And I think you're the loveliest lady I've ever seen."
"Well that's a very endearing title, but you can just call me y/n."
He repeated your name through a small smile, keeping his pretty eyes locked on yours.
"So, see you tomorrow at the diner? Round noon?" You grinned, moving to head on your way. Bill seemed stunned by your comment, shaking his head for a second before nodding and confirming his excitement to accept the offer.
The next day you showed up early for the date and found he was already waiting there. He pulled out a seat for you and laughed when you pointed out how early he was. You ordered, and the beat of silence that followed after the waitress left your table only lasted for a second. Once the pair of you got to talking it was like there'd never be enough time to share. You rambled for hours, until lunch hour was long gone, and when you realized you had to get going you could have nearly cried at the prospect of leaving Bill.
Suddenly, out of all the hopes and dreams and plans you ever had, being with Bill seemed to trump them all. You arranged a couple more dates, to the cinema and the local nature trails. During the film, he held your hand. And on your lazy hike, you pulled him behind a tree and kissed him like your life depended on it. The way he held your head in his hands as he kissed back turned your brain to stew, the only thought shining among the fog was how dearly you'd come to care for Bill.
On your fourth date, you invited him over for dinner. That night he told you about where he'd come from. He told you about his life and the hardest parts about it, and you told him some of the same about yourself. That night he stayed over, and instead of keeping it to yourself, you told him how fond you'd become of his company. You feared you'd feel lost without it, now. He chuckled, and agreed in a terrified breath. And then it was decided that you'd never have to worry about losing each other, making matching promises to remain every bit together.
Then the time came to meet Jake. He was polite, inviting you to dinners and things. But he was odd too, insisting you find something to do to keep busy on weekends, because he needed Bill's help with something that he never dared explain. Bill would apologize on the nights he managed to sneak and stay over, but he'd never give you much of an explanation either.
But you wanted one. You deserved an explanation, especially now that you and Bill were recognized around town as a pair, leaving vendors to worry if they spotted one of you without the other.
It was the reason for your first fight, when you begged him to tell you something of what kept him away at odd hours, at the snap of Jake's fingers. Bill still wouldn't tell you, but agreed it was time you knew. So he invited you back to the place he shared with Jake, and sheepishly asked his roommate to explain what was going on to you. Jake nearly flew off the handle. But before he did, you stood...
"Look, I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna be a part of Bill's life for good, so I suggest you let me in on whatever the hell it is you have him so wrapped up in. Cause I don't think you'll fancy me snooping and finding out the hard way, whatever that may be."
Jake argued back for a bit, saying that if you really cared about Bill you'd leave it alone. Saying that it was too dangerous for you to be concerned with. Saying you wouldn't understand. But then Bill crossed the room you and his roommate paced bickering,
"Let me make this easier for the both of you." He said, just before he opened the doors to a room full of tapes and reels and headsets.
Jake slumped, and sat on the sofa in defeat. You stood before him with arms crossed, ready to hear the worst. Then he told you everything.
After the very long, jarring story... After one thousand questions, and an oath that you take this secret to the grave, Bill offered to walk you home.
"If you..." He let out a sigh, looking toward the street lamp you stalled under. "If you don't wanna see me anymore I'll understand. I-"
"Shut up." You interrupted, standing on your toes to press your lips to Bill's. You could feel a weight leave his shoulders as you wrapped your arms around them. Bill held you close, burying his head in your neck as you lost yourself to the feeling of his strong arms nearly lifting you from the ground.
"Guess what," You mused, moving a hand to hold his face, and catch his eye. Bill peered to you with all the wonder of a boy in school, desperate to learn. "I love you, Bill. So you'd better get used to me keeping your secrets."
He looked as if he might burst into tears. But instead, he just grabbed your face and kissed you hard, before pulling away and repeating the sentiment in that charming little accent, with all the meaning in the world on the tip of his tongue. You knew his saying so was the start of the rest of your future. You'd follow Bill through all of time, and you had every confidence he'd trail close behind you all the same.
Okay but George seems so gentle?? I can imagine him being so gentle with your belly when you’re pregnant and how gentle he would be with a baby 🥺 soft, calming and warm
Okay FINE I’ll yearn with y’all. So like ! pregnancy warning ! also sickeningly sweet warning hhnngg
First and foremost, this man would be over the fucking moon to hear the news that you were expecting. Whether you’d been trying for a while, or it happened out of nowhere, he’d be thrilled either way. And maybe at first he’d worry too much. George would insist on doing every little thing for you, encouraging you to sit back and take it easy. You learned to let him dote on you, but you also learned just how to lessen his concern. And a few months down the road, once you’d gotten into the swing of planning for the future, George just kept getting sweeter.
He was always dear to you. He always spoke softly during slow parts of films to ask if you liked the movie he’d chosen that night. And he’d always held on to you with such tenderness, running his long fingers through your hair and sighing contentedly into your ear. Sometimes you couldn’t help but laugh over how sweet he was. Like some kind of foolish prince out of a storybook.
During the times you had nothing better to do than sit all snuggled up together, he’d hold you close and trade running his finger through your hair to trace patterns across your growing belly. And when you couldn’t fit into your favorite clothes anymore, he let you cry on his shoulder, and dismissed your apologies over how silly you knew you were being, getting so emotional over such a trivial thing.
And when your babe finally showed up in the world, George seemed sweeter yet. Quicker to rush to your aid, when you didn’t need a thing. Always on standby to make the stress of settling into life with a newborn, all the easier. And it helped that you loved him as hard as you did the day you realized your feelings. Was there anything better than the helping hand of someone you were just as eager to dote on? He took care of so much, while you caught up on sleep and tried to care for yourself. He did the laundry and the dishes and even vacuumed, where he found the time you couldn’t comprehend. And when you shuffled into the room to take part in all the action, George insisted you sit at his side, where he held your little babe in his strong arms. She was little, but seemed impossibly tiny in his embrace. You curled into George’s side and tried your damnedest not to cry over how much you loved him, and how sweet the scene was, of your man and child
