#guess I’ll go cry now… thanks a lot anons I blame you :’(

[bleue-flora]

On one hand, I love dsmp lore. On the other hand, I am so deeply sad about how tragic c!rivals duo are… god why are all of c!Dream’s relationships so broken…

[elysianslove]

shameful lust; suna rintarō

synopsis; he’s off limits in every way, but that only makes you want him more. based off of this, this, and this. the smut is inspired by my bunny anon’s birthday idea :) bunny, you know the one :)

pairings; brother’s bsf!suna rintarō x fem!reader

genre; porn with kind of plot lmfao

word count; 5.5k what the fuck??

trigger warning; age gap (not specified, & everyone’s 18+), masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, humiliation, praise, mini panic attack, link for the lingerie (slight nsfw warning)

it started off innocent, as most things do. you were sixteen when you first felt the butterflies nestled deep in your stomach, the drop of your heart, the heat of your cheeks, only around him. you’d thought it was a natural reaction; after all, you’d known suna rintarō since, quite literally, forever, and you were a growing girl, hormones imbalanced and thoughts as confusing as ever. it was normal, completely ordinary to feel as nervous as you did whenever his hand so much brushed against yours, or whenever he’d barely glance your way to offer a small, teasing smile.

it meant nothing, of course. you were just a young girl, sixteen, desperate to lose yourself in some sort of fantasy. a silly crush on your brother’s best friend was nothing strange, and definitely inevitable.

it would go away.

you’re eighteen when the feelings don’t go away, and when they begin reshaping into more— impure thoughts. the more you see of him, the more hyperaware you grow of everything that he is. suddenly your eyes easily find the small strip of skin revealed when he stretches his arms up, and suddenly you can’t help but constantly think about the way he sits, legs spread so wide as if to... accommodate something. suddenly your thoughts always find their way back to the way he’d hugged you goodbye, arms squeezing you so tight to him, allowing you to feel every ridge and ripple of his muscles, and the way he had ruffled your hair and his hand, so large, so easily sinking into the strands— and you’re left wondering what else his fingers could do in your hair, to the rest of your body—

it’s bad. it’s really bad. every day you try and convince yourself it’s innocent, and every night you prove yourself wrong when you find yourself on your stomach, face buried in your pillow and teeth biting down on it, mouth dampening the cloth as your fingers rub harshly at your clit and sink into your dripping cunt— all with his name falling off your tongue as you heave and cry. every night you think about how much thicker his fingers are in comparison to yours, how much longer, how they’d feel inside of you, curling within you. you know he’s dexterous, insanely good with his hands. you’ve seen the way his fingers fly across a keyboard or tap urgently at a gaming console. you know it, and it in no way helps in calming your frustration.

it’s bad, of course, but you live with it. after all, he is in every way off limits. a lot older than you, and much more experienced, suna would have to lose his mind before he ever thinks of you the way you think of him. what would a girl like you have to offer a guy like him anyways? your shaky hands and clumsy mouth? your tight cunt that can barely fit two of your fingers? you’d only leave him unsatisfied, and leave yourself utterly humiliated.

worst of all, however, you can’t imagine how devastated, how betrayed, your brother would be if he’d caught you fooling around with his best friend.

so although you’re yearning to say fuck all and fuck him, you don’t, because it doesn’t make sense in the slightest for you to do so. you continue to make due with what shirtless image of him or that time he slept over and went commando, waking up at the same time you had and his — his dick was hard— you could see—

fuck.

you need to grow up.

as you sit with your back to your headboard, your knees bent up and swinging slightly, two simple knock erupt on your bedroom door. it’s late afternoon, the sun’s brightness dimming slightly, casting your room in an orange glow. in all honesty, it’s soothing.

looking up from your phone momentarily, you call out for the person knocking to come in, your eyes returning to your screen once more.

“hey.”

at the sound of the awfully familiar voice, your head snaps back up and you lock your phone, looking up with newfound excitement at the man standing at your doorway. “hi,” you return with a smile, sitting up and crossing your legs.

suna smiles back, walking into your room with one hand tucked behind his back. “your brother said i’d find you here,” he explains, walking towards you.

you quirk a brow, curiously and amusingly smiling as you ask, “whatcha got there?”

he’s quiet for a moment as he walks over to your side of the bed, maneuvering in a way that doesn’t reveal what he has hidden behind him. you twist around on your bed, leaning on your knees to face him properly, and it’s just when you lift up slightly to settle comfortably that he leans down, bends over to get close enough to whisper, “happy birthday, pretty girl.” he gives you not another moment to process how close his face is — how close his lips are to yours — before the hand behind his back comes around between you.

tucked in his hand is a medium sized bag, not related to any sort of brand, so you assume it’s a simple bag he’d gotten from a convenience store. that would really only mean one thing— that he’s gotten you more than just one gift. you can’t see what’s in it since there are colorful papers stacked within it, obstructing your view, but you’re still flustered at the mere thought he’d even considered to buy you a gift. it’s not unusual; suna, every year on your birthday, has gotten you a gift, yet it’s usually more so a gag gift than anything. some inside joke of yours, maybe he’d pay for your dinner, things like that. never a full on, thought out gift.

“you didn’t have to,” you say, settling back down on your knees and hesitantly taking the bag from him.

he waves you off, disagreeing. “course i did; you’re nineteen now.”

you roll your eyes. “wouldn’t eighteen be more special?”

“fine,” he decides, playfully taking the bag from your grasp and pulling it to him. “guess i’ll just give this to someone else then— maybe your mom—“

“suna!”

at your reaction, he laughs boisterously, and against all odds, you find yourself smiling too. quickly, you reach out for the bag again, pulling it back to you.

“open it when you’re alone,” he disclaims, almost as if in warning.

warily, you eye the bag.

“sure.”

you try to be quieter when unboxing suna’s gift, but the paper’s scrunching is just so damn loud. after cursing it out, you finally rid the bag of its first layer of paper, and are met with a scented candle and some lotion. basic, expected. there‘s a card there too, and when you open it, there’s a note in his messy handwriting, reading out a simple happy birthday— and a good couple of yens too. money, a candle, lotion.

so basic.

there’s still more paper beneath, but you don’t expect it to be for anything except decoration, not for—

what the fuck.

what the fuck.

What The Fuck?

your two hands dip into the bag, reaching out for the final gift, grabbing it by its straps and—

holy shit, he got you lingerie.

it’s so— sheer? you don’t think an inch of you will be properly covered, even with the lingerie on. it’s properly transparent, with only the intricate lace designs to modestly cover you. when you dig into the bag, you find the panties to match the bra and— well, it’s pretty, you can’t lie. there are dark, almost flowerlike designs all over, and it’s a deep black, nearly blue or green. there’s also a garter belt, but there aren’t any stockings in the bag to attach to the clips. maybe he’d expected you to take care of that?— ah no, you stand corrected. there are stockings.

fuck, he thought of everything didn’t he?

but more importantly, what the fuck does all of this mean?

burying the lingerie deep inside the bag again, and making sure to cover it up with the paper, thoroughly, you place the other gifts and the card back in and on top, before putting it aside on your bed.

and now, to gather your fucking thoughts.

you had to text him to thank him for the gift, obviously. but there was no way he’d accidentally misplaced the lingerie there. it was deliberately placed, with the way it was folded and tucked neatly, underneath an extra layer of paper above and beneath it? yeah, definitely on purpose. but— why? had he taken notice of your feelings towards him? was this his way of making fun or... reassuring you they were mutual?

god, what the hell are you thinking.

snatching your phone from your bedside table, you check the time.

2:01 a.m.

okay, everyone‘s bound to be asleep by now. hopefully. you eye the bag, so cautiously one would assume there’s some sort of killing machine within it. you contemplate. shake your head. no. the gears twist. yes.

no.

yes. no. yes. no—

fuck it, it’s yours anyways, isn’t it?

you snatch it loudly, rushing off to lock your bedroom door, then rushing to close the blinds, tightly, surely, then rushing to turn the lights off and turning the small lamp by your bedside on instead. what else are you meant to do with lingerie other than, well, put it on? it’s rational, you think, obvious.

it’s fine.

stealing one last, deep breathe, you dump the contents of the bag again, and pick out the lingerie.

it fits.

it fits perfectly.

the bra is snug against your chest, pushing at your breasts but not digging in uncomfortably. your nipples peak through what‘s revealed of the mesh, and when they stand perky and hard, you blame it on the fact that you‘re half naked. the garter belt wraps tightly around your waist, not squeezing to the point of discomfort and pain, but not loose that it’s a nuisance, and the clips that hang from it are attached to a pair of stockings that stop mid thigh, squeezing at the flesh. finally, a pair of panties rest on your cups, cupping your ass perfectly. it too is sheer, and god— you can see so much of you.

is this— what he would‘ve wanted?

you can’t deny that you do look good. it shows your figure off appealingly, and coupled with some dark lipstick, your messy hair, and the slightest smudge to your day’s eyeliner— would— would he have wanted you like this? all dolled up for him?

is this what suna likes?

doubting the fact that you’ll ever have the courage to put this set on again, you grab at your phone, clearing the area before your mirror, then sitting down at the edge of your bed. might as well enjoy it while it lasts, shouldn’t you? posing in the mirror, you appreciate the way you look, the way the dim lighting complements the atmosphere, the way the piece hugs your body and shows you off. you look so good.

so good— for him.

reveling in this surge of confidence, you snap a good amount of pictures, posing differently in each of them, taking them at different angles. your camera roll overflows with them, and as you fall back on the bed, hair splayed out on the mattress, you smile proudly at the pictures.

do you look good enough for him to see?

the thought strikes you suddenly; it tickles at the pit of your stomach, makes your knees bend and your toes curl.

should you?

the messenger app is open at the text messages between you and him before you can think, a picture of you uploaded and ready to send.

should you?

you tuck your lower lip between your teeth, mulling it over anxiously.

no, you most definitely shouldn’t.

quickly, you swipe out of the messenger app, and onto safari. porn it is.

you should‘ve turned the ac on. fuck, it’s hot.

3:10 a.m. 45 minutes since you’d put the lingerie set on and had your mini photoshoot, ten minutes since you’d started masturbating. everything’s still in place except for the garter clips, which have snapped off of your stockings at some point in the past few minutes, but you pay it barely any mind as your legs spread wider, one hand dipped beneath your panties, the other pressing hard against your mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet.

it’s not that you generally had a problem keeping down your noises. your home was constantly filled with people, and you’re almost always sexually frustrated at the most inconvenient times. this time, however, it’s different. it’s different because you’re wearing a lingerie set that suna picked out, that suna bought for you, that suna gave you himself. would he have wanted to watch you touch yourself like this, dressed up so pretty? or— would he have wanted to fuck you while—

shit, you’re gonna cum.

you let out a broken moan, bleeding into a desperate son, muffled barely your hand. your fingers fuck into your cunt faster, squelching lowly as you arch your back, pressing your palm harshly against your clit.

“ugh, hngh,” you whine, squeal, wrist aching. “fuck, rin— please—“

you’re so loud, shit, shit, shit.

beside you, your phone dings! loudly, alerting you of a message received, but you can’t stop, not when you’re so close. it dings again, and again, but you continue to ignore, chasing your own high so desperately, faster, faster, faster. the coil tightens, your body tenses, mind hazing over and eyes rolling back— so close, so fucking close.

“well aren’t you a doll.”

your eyes snap open, and you only manage one second to process who the fuck and what the fuck before your hips are trembling and twisting, and your legs are shaking so awfully as your back arches deep. the moment you hear his voice, so deep and clear, looming just by the edge of your bed where you lay spread, fucking yourself, you cum— and you’re convinced you have a humiliation kink. you didn’t cum because you’d simply been close— you came because you heard him catch you.

in your post orgasmic daze, you pant deeply, chest heaving, rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breath. your fingers pull back from your panties, falling to the bed, sticky and wet, while your other hand falls from from your mouth, drool and spit dripping from the corner of your lips.

“aw, you ruined the set.”

you sigh. “rin.” the way you say his name isn’t in a way that’s calling out for him, but neither are you scolding him nor brushing him off for teasing you. you’re just simply trying to process the fact that he’s here.

“i like it when you call me that,” he admits, and in a second he’s falling over you, hands bracing and steadying him beside your head, keeping himself hovering at a small distance. “why do you always insist on calling me suna?” he wonders, head tilting curiously.

blinking slowly, you breathe in, and out, and ask, “what are you doing here?”

above you, he shrugs. “you were the one that sent me those—”

immediately, you’re pushing him off you, sitting up all too quickly as you reach out for your phone. you shakily unlock it, typing in your password and opening the messenger app. he’s right— shit. you could’ve sworn you’d deleted the photo, because you’d explicitly decided just how stupid sending it would’ve been. 

well, look at you now. 

“that wasn’t— oh my god, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to,” you stutter, turning your body towards him once more, but avoiding his gaze, your body, only barely having just cooled down, heating up once more. 

“oh?” he tests. “was it not meant for me?” 

“no, i—“ 

he’s smiling all too wide for him to not be getting off on your embarrassment. at the thought of that, your eyes unintentionally snap up to him, to his crotch, where beneath his sweats is a bulge, and god, it’s like all those nights ago where you’d seen his dick through his sweats and he’s big, he’s so big—

“just where do you think you’re looking?” he sneers, hand all of a sudden gripping your chin, tilting your head back up and forcing you to finally, for the first time, meet his eyes. they’re dark, almost sinister, as they narrowly glare at you, begging you for explanation. 

your mind’s no longer clouded over, all pleasure dissipating from your veins, pathetic humiliation replacing it. “i’m sorry,” you mewl, eyes tearing up at the look on his face. of course he was disgusted. just as your stupid crush on him was natural, so was his reaction. “i’m sorry, please don’t tell anyone,” you beg, lower lip wobbling. 

his grip on your chin tightens as he furrows his brows. “tell anyone?” he questions. “about what?” 

had he not— heard you? 

he says your name, firmly, deeply, in a way that has you stifling your sobs and biting your bottom lip to stop its quivering. patiently, you wait for him to speak, to say anything, until finally, he asks, “do you want me to fuck you?” and your heart stops. “yeah?” he continues, his other hand reaching for your wrist, your hand, the same one that’s still sticky with the evidence of you. slowly, as he brings his lips closer to yours, fingers slipping so that he’s squishing your cheeks tightly, he leads your hand to his crotch, to where his dick is painfully hard beneath his sweats. your initial touch is featherlight, and he doesn’t fully press your hand to his clothed cock, but still, just the smallest, tiniest feel of him has the lust in your veins thrumming alive. “you think you’d look pretty—” he pauses, lips hovering by yours, eyes searching for any sign of hesitance or resistance, “sitting on my cock?” 

“i’m sorry,” you apologize again, but he swallows it by finally, finally, pressing his lips to yours. his lips are so soft, softer than you’d imagined and fantasized a thousand times over, as they press against yours, managing to pull the softest moan of surprise and pleasure from you. you’d forgotten, in your moment of shame, just how much you’d craved suna rintarō. just how often you thought about him, those same fingers gripping your chin to be buried inside of you, those pretty lips sucking on your tits and clit. “want you so bad,” you hiccup, kissing him back. “so bad.” 

he hums, amused, pulling back. licking his lips with a grin, as if tasting you, his hands leave you entirely, reaching for the hem of his shirt as he lifts it up, freeing himself of the piece of clothing. “don’t you think i know, sweetheart?” he teases, daringly. at the sight of your eyes widening, he nods with a dramatized serious expression, tutting as he adds, “so dirty, thinkin’ ‘bout me like that.” 

you whine again, hands lifting up to obstruct your face from his view as you fall back on the bed, body bouncing slightly. “stop,” you plead, not for him to pull back but for him to stop reminding you of just how wrong it is to feel the way you do. still, you spread your sticky thighs for him when he presses his hands to your knees, and you shiver at the feel of his fingers tickling at your skin. “i’m sorry.” 

“that’s okay, pretty girl,” he reassures you, faux sweetness dripping like honey off his tongue. he leans in, carefully slow, hands following the curve of his body and yours. “i want you too.” he smiles mischievously, leaning close once more. “so bad,” he mimics you, lips hovering right above yours before he kisses you once more. you want to pinch his arm for outright mocking you, because really, how infuriating can he be? but it’s impossible to want to do anything but desire him in every possible way at the moment, especially when he presses himself harder against you, hips slotting between your legs and clothed cock brushing against your dripping panties. 

“rin,” you plead, hands clawing at his back, grasping at his shoulders. god, his skin is so warm. 

“yes?” he drawls, wet lips kissing the corner of your mouth, trailing easily to your jaw, and down to your neck. patiently, he waits for you to speak. 

with a trembling voice, you ask, “be quick. please.” 

a little stunned, suna pauses his ministrations at your neck, but it’s barely for a second. because moments later, he’s grinning sinisterly into the crook of your neck, sucking hotly as he replies, “sure thing.” 

you do want to take your time. you want him to stuff his face between your legs and sink his fingers so deep inside of you. you want him to force your mouth down on him, want to bury your face in your lap till you’re choking and gagging on his cock. you want him to take his time stretching you for his cock before he sinks inside of you, letting you feel every single inch and ridge of his dick until he bottoms out. you wish. you wish. 

but you’re desperate, and needy, and frustrated, and most of all, you’re not even sure if this is real. you’re scared to blink and have him disappear all of a sudden. you’re scared to wake up with soaked panties and no gift from suna, no suna above you, hard cock pressing against your cunt, only the same suna from all these past years, the same suna you pine over at a distance, wanting but never having. 

so you whimper so quietly, “be quick,” again, because he’s still too slow for your liking.

his fingers grasp the sides of your panties, pulling as quick as he can, sliding them down your thighs, watching as the cloth rolls at the urgency as it slides past your knees, your shins, your ankles, legs lifted high up. at the final loop around your right ankle, as suna flings it off, he kisses at your ankle, gripping it tightly and using it to spread your legs. 

as your legs spread, your pussy, soaking from both your past orgasm and this unbelievable build up, spreads too, glistening and dripping for him. his eyes easily fall to it, and, with that same glint in his eyes, he grins, and licks his lips again. “wish i could have a taste,” he admits to you, shuffling closer and bending your legs closer to your chest with one hand. the other hand frantically pushes at the hem of his sweatpants, tugging it low, beneath his balls. “god, i’d have you sit on my face for hours.” 

he’s going to kill you. 

he’s going to fucking kill you. 

at his words, your cunt pulsates and clenches tightly, hole glistening as you moan. you hope he doesn’t notice, but he does, somehow, and he laughs, too fucking loud. “you liked that, hm? bet you’d look so cute,” he spurs you on, and your entire body trembles. 

you wish to say something, to find the courage to belittle him, degrade him, remind him that if you’re in the wrong for wanting this then so is he, but it’s so hard to find your voice. it’s like he’s stupefied you completely, reduced you to this dumb, wordless, horny mess. god, fuck, it’s embarrassing. you can only watch with wide, tearful eyes and quivering lips and trembling legs as he spits on his hand and fists his cock, quickly, getting himself all nice and slick for you. his cock is— he’s so big, fuck. if you’d been shocked feeling him beneath his sweats, well, your entire body’s rigid with anticipation now. 

just as promised, suna’s quick. with one hand pressing and steadying firmly at your lower stomach, right by your hip, he guides his cock to your cunt with the other, wasting no time by pushing in. no way, no way, no fucking way. 

how is he fitting? 

“ease up,” he orders sharply, forcing more of himself inside of you.

in response, you bring both hands up to your mouth, clasping them tightly above your lips. you remaining quiet is as impossible as ever, with the way he’s stretching you so wide for him, so you press down harder with your hands and throw your head back as he sinks in deeper, and deeper. 

“aren’t a good girl?” he praises sweetly, his other hand mirroring the one on your hip. he watches as you lower your head again, lifting it up slightly to look between the two of you at where he’s fully bottomed out, buried deep inside of you. “feel good?” he wonders, even if he knows the answer. your head falls back again and you nod with your eyes squeezing shut. “feel so full, yeah?”  you’re glad he’s speaking for you, because you doubt you could find your voice at the moment, even if you tried. 

you nod again instead, urgently, just as he pulls out until only his tip remains inside of you, before pressing back in quickly, thrusting into you suddenly. the sight of him above you is better than anything your mind has ever made up, hands squeezing at your hips tightly, both ensuring you keep your legs spread for him and keeping himself up, steadying himself as he fucks into you. his arms bulge and the muscles in his abdomen tighten and tense with every thrust. his chest, so flushed red; his hair, a little sweaty, a little messy; his brows, furrowed deep in concentration; his lips, wet and red, so fucking red, his tongue jutting out slightly as he picks up the pace, as he thrusts faster, harder. 

and best of all: the noises he makes. he’s shameless, fucking into you with abandon, moaning and grunting and whining for you, like he’d been the one yearning, pining, and not you. and, you suppose, with the way he’s fucking into you right now, that there might’ve been some truth in his words, that he’s wanted you just as bad, that this wasn’t some pity fuck— poor little girl, his best friend’s sister, sending him lewd and inappropriate photos because she’s so desperate, she can’t help but lust after him, every single day. 

his hands squeeze even tighter and he grunts, gritting his teeth sharply. “fuck, m’already close,” he grunts, and somehow, that makes your heart swell, pride deepening. “cunt’s so fucking tight, shit.” you’re making him say those words, you’re going to make him cum so quick, it’s you. you. 

when his hands crawl up to your breasts, squeezing and kneading through the bra, your hands fall to his forearms, gripping so tightly and digging your nails into his skin. “please, please, please, cum inside,” you beg, trying to be as quiet as you can. “please rin, please.” 

the bed creaks with the effort and speed of his thrusts, your body bouncing as his cock fucks deep into your cunt. his head bows in, smooth hair swinging forward as he curses. “are you— hm..hngh—sure?” he asks, and you nod so rapidly you feel dizzy, arching your back as much as you can to get him deeper inside of you. he’s a mess of curses and pants as he fucks you even faster, one hand remaining at your breast, grasping tightly, the other lowering to your wet clit, rubbing furiously, messily, clumsily. 

no words are exchanged as he desperately circles your clit with the rough pads of his fingers, squeezing and kneading your breast as he angles his hips, trying to get you to cum before he does. and just as as before, just as he’d caught you earlier, your body starts to tense up, shaking in anticipation as your orgasm draws closer and closer.

but there’s something�� different. 

“rin!” you yell out, still half-whispering in an attempt to keep quiet. your eyes well up as you call out for him again, your orgasm unbearably close. “rin, feels weird— oh m—”

he only just barely manages to shove his hand against your face before you’re screaming, throat aching and scratching as you thrash beneath him. around his cock, your cunt spams and clenches down tightly, cum splashing and spraying all over his lower stomach and past his cock to his balls. you’re still thrashing, still squealing and screaming, and he’s spilling inside of you, filling you up impossibly, his cum splashing and dripping as it mixes with yours. 

“holy shit,” he breathlessly marvels, hips still rocking and grinding against yours as he helps the both of you ride out your highs. “you ever—“ he steals in a breath, steadying himself slightly, “—cum this hard?”

you’re sobbing, hiccuping and mewling and whining and crying, your body impossibly sensitive. tears stream freely down your cheeks as you sink into the mattress, feeling quite literally like jelly. slowly, suna pulls his cock out, trying not to get distracted by the way your cunt squeezes out some of his cum, and instead focuses on you, his hands cupping your cheeks softly. 

“hey, hey, eyes on me,” he encourages, kneeling above you as his thumbs brush at your tears. 

“m’sorry, ri— suna,” you heave, hands grasping his as your eyes water again, fresh tears joining ones that are yet to dry. 

“what for, sweet thing?” he asks gently. when you start to lift yourself up, he leans back, sitting on your bed, giving you space to get comfortable. he watches with worried eyes as you furiously rub at your eyes with your palms and the back of your hands, as the tears never stop flowing. shit, did he fuck up somehow? he calls your name again, cautiously reaching out for you. when you don’t reject his touch, his heart settles, just a little. “tell me what’s wrong?” he offers again, and you sniffle. 

“are you not disgusted?” you ask, voice wobbly and cracking. 

his brows furrow, and he cocks his head. “because you... squirted?”

you slap at his arm with a roll of your eyes. “no, suna.” 

“when did i lose my first name privileges?” he asks, dramatically shocked. again, you roll your eyes. well, at least the tears have ceased. softening slightly, suna sighs. he’s shit at this. he’s worse than shit at this. talking in general? awful. talking about his or someone else’s feelings? he’s sure the devil would be better comfort. still, he can’t just— leave you. he’s sure that would make things a thousand times worse.

and honestly, neither does he want to leave you. 

“i can’t read your mind, pretty girl,” he reminds you, and momentarily, you look away. 

until you inhale sharply, and meet his eyes again. “it’s okay...” you begin, trailing off as you attempt to gather your words, before continuing, “that i feel this way for you?” 

at your words, at the much needed clarity, suna sighs in relief. so that was it. “more than okay,” he promises you. 

you nod in understanding, before prodding further, “not weird?” 

he thinks it over, before answering. if he’s honest with himself, the most he’d felt with you was sexual attraction. he liked the way your tits bounced when you ran to greet him or the press of your ass against his crotch when you passed by him to get somewhere. he liked— he liked thinking about your body, your lips, your hands. it’s why he sent you that lingerie set, the one that sits so pretty on your body right now. not that he’d been expecting you to send him anything, and he’d even anticipated that you might feel disgusted, might throw it in his face and slap him too. but he knew you better. suna was observant. he knew more than he let on, more than anyone could imagine. if he hadn’t realized your eyes on him in the past years, he must be blind.

still, he’s not sure if it was ever more, or if it is more. but, he supposes, it’s not an unimaginable feat. he thinks that maybe, there is a chance. he likes you, sure; you make his belly twist and his heart jump. but is he going to risk leading you on? 

he doesn’t know. 

he settles for, “good weird.” 

your face is the definition of a question mark. “what the hell is good weird?” 

“your face is good weird,” he retorts. it’s a bad comeback, terrible actually, but his face is flushing a dark red, and he needs to get away. you’re flustering him and it’s pissing him off. 

“that’s so mean!” 

yeah, the devil would’ve been better comfort. he wasn’t around though, so he made sure suna had been sleeping over that night instead. 

worked in your favor didn’t it? 

end note; my godddddfhksfhbskjbsb ,,, sorry if you found mistakes this took me all day and im not assed to proofread <//3 but i hope you liked regardless!! 

[technowoah]

Wait imagine a fic where Jack and the reader are long distance or something and when Tubbo and Tommy are doing the man hunt irl the reader surprises Jack.

That would be cute I think 🤔

Just One Livestream

You surprise Jack with a spontaneous visit to the UK, little did you know that they were livestreaming.

- Jack Manifold x gen neutral!reader

- Anon Requested!

⚠︎ swearing, fluff!, not proofread

an// I hope yall enjoy! Much love! And sorry it came out so late I have no inspiration rn but imma get it done! Also I used the difference of American hours to London hours so sorry of

Navigation!

"Love, why are you up early?" Jack asked through the phone.

You two were facetiming eachother as he propped his phone up on his dashboard while he started to drive. It was around 1 am for you and 6 am for Jack. Sadly you two were in a long distance relationship. You had met Jack when you were on a college trip to London to study abroad for 3 weeks. You were sad that you had to leave your home country, but this was a opportunity you couldn't oppose.

During this trip you had found a cafe that you would go to often. The first time you sat at the cafe alone you always noticed it was only you and this other man in the cafe. He was always on his computer and sat by a window, he always came early too, even earlier than you. As the days went on you continued to see him around more and he seemed to notice you as well. You made a note to yourself to always try and show up a tad bit earlier to the cafe to stay around the same time as he did.

You two got to know eachother throughout the three weeks you had to stay in London. The small nods became hellos, and the hellos turned into full on conversation by the window. He had told you his name was Jack Manifold and was kind of surprised when you didn't immediately know who he was. To him it was refreshing not to be immediately noticed based on his appearance. You both had exchanged numbers one day and after each morning you two would text non stop even during your classes. Luckily trying to get to know Jack changed your sleep schedule and because of that you always made it to class on time.

Jack was such an amazing guy to you, but during the first week you had developed a small crush on the man, and he had developed a crush on you too. The second week you two had ventured out onto different territory than the cafe. Jack started to call those small outings after class, dates and you weren't opposed to the dates at all you loved them. The second and third week were mostly dates and the night before you left he asked to be your boyfriend and of course you accepted not knowing the pain of a long distance relationship.

You had to answer his question on why you were up so early. "Yeah- Um, Im up because of you." You chuckled. "You changed my sleep schedule ever since I met you."

"Well you're welcome, because before me I heard you were missing classes." Jack payed attention to the road but still talked to you.

"Because I told you! And I am grateful, but there is nothing to do at one am here." You sighed while you started to walk around your room as you lied to him.

Jack was talking to you while you did a clean sweep around your house to check if you had everything for your trip.

Two weeks ago you had decided to pack your bags and take a trip back to London. Right now your flight will be leaving early in the morning and that's why you are up so early.

You wanted to surprise Jack instead of straight up telling him that you will be in the country. You missed him dearly, and this will be a great way to spend time together instead of seeing eachother across a screen. One of you had to make that sacrafice and that would be you.

While Jack continued to talk you checked everywhere to make sure you arent leaving anything behind.

"What are you doing, darling?" Jack asked and that snapped you out of your trance. "Are you even listening to me? Im hurt." Jack faked being hurt.

You smiled at him and shook your head. "Im sorry I wasn't listening. What were you saying?"

"I was saying, when you were ignoring me, that I'm going to the cafe right now and that we should plan a trip soon. I miss you." Jack confessed and you awed.

"I miss you too Jack! I hopw we can see each other soon." You tried to contain your smile as you hid your surprise.

"Me too."

Your plane finally landed as you let out a sigh of relief. You had collected all of your shit fast so you could finally get off of that horrible plane. Every stereotypical airplane scene happened to you in the hours you were on that plane. You had a child crying behind you with a mother who couldn't keep that child calm, you were sat next to a man who snored the whole ride here and you just felt cramped.

Sadly you couldn't return any of Jack's messages or calls that you saw when you were in the airplane terminal. You tried calling him twice but they both went to voicemail while you rolled your bag through the huge building. Finding yourself outside you ordered an Uber and once you did that your phone began to ring showing Jack's name and picture of you two together on the screen.

You quickly answered the phone. "Hey!"

"Hi!" Jack chuckled. "I called like, 17 times!"

"I know! Im sorry. I was busy." You weren't lying getting a plane and basically leaving early in the morning and arriving in the afternoon in London. "So, what are you doing today?"

"I am hanging out with Tommy and Tubbo at the park! Im picking them up now!" Jack responded and you heard him close his car door.

"Which park?" You asked quickly as you saw your Uber arrive.

Jack started to laugh. "Uh I'll text you the park I guess. Why would you want to know?"

"No reason! I just want to make sure you are safe. Dont make me call 999." You tried to joke around and take the attention off of your question.

"I cant believe you still remember 999." Jack laughed.

"I still do!" You said as you got inside your Uber and gave the driver the directions to your hotel forgetting that Jack was on the other line.

"Wait hotel?" Jack questioned through the phone.

"Hotel? What are you talking about?" You acted oblivious.

"I- I thought you were talking about a hotel." Jack hesitated.

"No!" You tried to cover up your mistake.

"Well Im going to pick up Tommy soon. I'll talk to you later okay? Answer my calls this time!" Jack chuckled.

"I definitely will!"

You had recived the name of the park you were surprising Jack at. You began to walk around the parking lot after you got dropped off and noticed his car sitting there. There were tons of people at the park today and you didn't know where he would be. As you walked on the dirt trails of the park your thoughts took over, what if you made a mistake and should've told Jack that you were here in London and wanted to meet up at the cafe?

You looked at people as they passed by you ok the trail wishing that you had that energy that you had before, thinking that you would find Jack easily when in reality you were in a busy part of the park and he could be anywhere.

When you thought all hope was lost you heard some loud voices on the trail to your right. You were already walking aimlessly through the park and your first instinct was to go left and walk away from the loud voices, but then you heard something.

"Tommy this was a bad idea!"

"I dont think it was!"

You stood in the "intersection" of the dirt trails thinking that you heard those voices right. You rounded the corner and followed right to see Tommy and Jack doubled over, out of breath while Tubbo was still standing up breathing heavily. There were far away from you, but not far away that you couldn't see them clearly.

You began to call out to them. "Tommy! Jack! Tub-"

They quickly turned around and took off running. Confused on why they were doing that you took off running after them trying to tell them to stop. They were yelling and you were yelling and getting weird glances from stangers, and you dont blame them. You're chasing after your boyfriend and his two friends in a quiet public park. You continued to hear their groans of tiredness and their speed started to slow down.

"Jack! Tommy! Wait up!" You yelled out of breath as you slowed down as well.

"We give up! We give up!" Tubbo yelled and came to a complete stop while trying to catch his breath. He turned around to finally face you. "Y/N?!"

"Wait what?!"

"You're here?!" Jack ran up to you and gave you a bone crushing hug, rocking you two back and forth.

"I am! And Im our of breath thanks to you three." You said while still hugging Jack.

"M'sorry I thought you were a fan and I took off and they followed suit I guess." Tommy rubbed his forehead.

"A fan?" You questioned and Tommy and Tubbo lifted their phones up gesturing that they were recording.

"We're doing manhunt in real life, darling." Jack kissed your temple and wrapped his arn around your waist, holding you tight.

"Next time look before you run okay." You smiled still out of breath while kissing Jack's cheek.

"Enough with the PDA!" Tubbo yelled still recording you two.

"We havent even started!" Jack yelled back giving you a huge hug. Jack closed the distance between you two and gave you a passionate kiss on the lips while the two boys groaned in disgust.

"I think that's enough streaming for today boys." Tommy sighed.

"Sorry again, love. That won't happen again."

You and Jack walked hand in hand down the streets of London. People had to walk around you two because you were basically taking up the whole sidewalk and you weren't letting go of his hand anytime soon.

"It better not! I dont want to run after you again." You smiled as you bumped shoulders.

"And you wont have to!" He smiled back at you as you two continued to walk and people dodged the two of you.

"Have you ever thought of moving here?" Jack asked out of nowhere.

"I have actually! On the plane ride here I thought of leaving and moving to London." You thought about it constantly. It was nice being close to Jack and it was a major risk.

"Well wherever you're ready, I'll be here for you." Jack kissed your cheek. "And I wont run away when you come here!"

You two finally made it to your destination which was the cafe you two met at. It was busy at this time because it was the middle of the day and not the beginning. You two entered and took your seats by the window where you two usually sat.

"I love you. I missed this." Jack said.

"I love you too! And of course I missed this. Maybe you can show me more places around London and convince me to stay longer." You gave him a proposal.

"Longer than what?" Jack asked.

"Four weeks." You grinned.

Jack grabbed both of your hands and kissed the back of them. "Hell yeah. I get you for more than four weeks?!"

"That's if you show me places to stay longer." You teased.

"Okay babe. You like ferris wheels?"

[inadaydream99]

The One Where You Can’t Be Kept Apart

A/N - Thank you 🥕anon for sending in this request and another brilliant idea! I really hope you enjoy what I have come up with ☺️ Also, I was unsure with how to end it, so it took me a little longer to write than usual 😂

Disclaimer: This is inspired by the Friends episode ‘The One With the Memorial Service’ and is in no way my own original idea. I have also used some direct quotes from the episode for the purpose of keeping some fidelity towards the plot.

You huff, folding your arms across your chest as Soobin begins to interrogate you. He’s only been at yours for a few minutes and you’re already tired of him. You get that he’s trying to look out for you and do as you asked of him; which he’s taking incredibly seriously. But is it really necessary for him to pay you a visit sporadically, just to see if he can catch you out?

It’s like he doesn’t trust you. Not that you blame him really, I mean you’ve just broken up with the love of your life, Yeonjun, and asked Soobin to make sure you don’t have any contact with him because you don’t trust yourself to keep away. But just because you have very little self control when it comes to Yeonjun, doesn’t mean that you need to be watched so often.

It’s been about two weeks since you and Yeonjun broke up after being happily together for just over a year. The reason being that you both realised you wanted different things for your future. Things that, even after much debate, neither of you were willing to compromise on.

It had always been your dream to fall in love with your soulmate and get married. Ever since you were little you’d indulge in your fantasy and act out these magical weddings with your friends. You, of course, always played the bride.

Now, Yeonjun has never been opposed to the idea of marriage. He just doesn’t see the point in having this big, expensive wedding. In his opinion it’s a waste of time and money. He would just be happy to elope.

And that’s the main issue that broke you up. You’d been so distraught over the idea of not having the wedding of your dreams, and Yeonjun stubborn in his views, that you’d come to the agreement that if you can’t agree on this then you’re not meant for each other.

From the second he received the news from you crying down the phone, Soobin had barely left your side. He’s been the most amazing friend to you and done everything he can to help you through this break up. And that’s exactly why you feel guilty for finding him annoying right now.

“I know you’re hiding something (Y/N).” Soobin mumbles, more so to himself than to you, but you hear him clearly none the less. “Who’s shoes are these?” He suddenly quizzes you, holding up a pair of dirty black trainers. Ok, so they aren’t the most fashionable shoes ever, but they are comfy and you have lost any motivation to put effort into your appearance right now. All you can seem to focus on is your heartbreak.

“They’re mine.” You deadpan, your sensitivity making it difficult to not be offended. And Soobin really should have known better because if he’d taken a second longer to look at the shoes he’d realise that they are too small to belong to Yeonjun.

“Oh, sorry.” He utters softly, placing the shoes neatly by the front door once again. You watch as he snoops his way around your apartment, in and out of rooms unsatisfied with his lack of finding anything.

That is, until a knock on your front door sounds. You casually make a stand from the sofa where you had previously been slouched, still sulking over Soobin’s insult over your shoes.

“Wait! I’ll get it.” Soobin calls out to you, hurrying past you. He practically pushes you away from the door; not that he intends to, he’s just oblivious to his actions in the moment.

“It’s just the takeout I ordered.” You sigh, throwing your hands up defensively.

Soobin shoots you a frown before turning the handle and swinging the door open.

“Oh my, what are the chances!” You pretend to be shocked, hands flying up to cover your mouth upon the disappointed look Soobin sends you when the door reveals Yeonjun. “7 billion people in the world and they send Yeonjun to deliver my food!” You continue, hoping that you sound believable enough. Though it’s unlikely with the way your best friend has been doubting you from the very second you asked him to help you keep away from Yeonjun.

Soobin simply rolls his eyes at your terrible acting, turning expectantly to look at Yeonjun for an explanation to his presence.

“I’m sorry, but when (Y/N) called I just couldn’t keep away.” His head hangs low, ashamed of his weakness for you… and for getting caught.

“How’d you even call him?” Soobin gawks at you, seriously confused as to how you found a way to contact Yeonjun without having access to a phone. Yes, Soobin had confiscated it first chance he got. But you have to admit that the time away from your phone has been quite nice.

“FaceTime on IPad.” You mumble sulkily, reluctantly admitting how you’d managed to go behind Soobin’s back. You’d hidden it from him so your parents could at least contact you if they needed… or so you’d convinced yourself.

“iPad, of course! I should have known.” Soobin shakes his head, scolding himself for not having realised sooner.

“Soobin, if (Y/N) and I want to see each other, then we should be allow-”

“This doesn’t concern you Yeonjun.” Soobin interjects Yeonjun’s justification. It’s not that he wants to be rude to Yeonjun, or that he doesn’t like him, it’s just that if he allows this then he’s failed at being a good, supportive friend to you.

“Oh really, maybe I was confused considering the mention of my name.” Yeonjun sasses back. “What I was saying was, why can’t we be friends?” Yeonjun, determined to finish what he wants to say, continues. You notice he doesn’t look at Soobin as he speaks, only you. And the pleading look he sends your way makes you melt.

“I guess there’s no harm in that.” You shrug, trying to not show your true emotions as you observe the wide smile that spreads out across Yeonjun’s face. You really had missed his smile so much.

“Well ok then. If you’re just hanging out as friends then I can join, cause I’m your friend and Yeonjun’s friend too.” Soobin announces and you stifle your laughter when you notice Yeonjun grimace at being called Soobin’s friend.

“I guess.” Yeonjun mumbles reluctantly as he is finally able to enter your apartment properly.

The three of you sit on the sofa, Soobin forcing himself in the small space between you. It’s awkward. No one knowing what to say first to break the silence.

“So how have you been?” Yeonjun is the first to speak, leaning around Soobin to see you.

“I’ve been good, thanks.” Soobin answers as you open your mouth to speak.

“And you?” Yeonjun chuckles now beginning to find Soobin amusing. His gaze is focused intently onto you, eager to finally talk properly with you after so long apart.

“I’ve been better.” You force a small smile.

When you’d initially contacted Yeonjun and invited him over, you’d been so desperate that you hadn’t given it any thought as to how you might feel when he’s actually here. It’s a lot more difficult to see him than you expected, and you know it’s just your overwhelming emotions talking, but you’re still in love with him.

Despite wanting nothing but to cave in and get back with Yeonjun, you remain strong and fight the urge. You don’t want the same things as each other. And the more you remind yourself of that, the more you are able to convince yourself that breaking up was the right thing for the both of you.

“I’ve missed you.” Yeonjun admits. You stare into his longing gaze, your heart racing as you see the sincerity pouring out of him.

“I’ve missed you too.” You whisper, not trusting your voice. You can feel your eyes well up as the words tumble from your lips without thought. Although, it’s true, you really have missed him with all your heart.

“You know, on my way over here I saw a pigeon throw up and then a rat ate it.” Soobin quickly jumps in and changes the moment as soon as he senses the mood getting too serious.

“I still think about you everyday. I mean it’s kinda hard not to when everything reminds me of you.” Yeonjun chooses to ignore Soobin’s obvious attempt at stopping your conversation.

You aren’t sure how to respond to him, so overwhelmed that you feel like the room is spinning.

“Ok, I’m gonna head to the bathroom.” Soobin stands from the sofa. “But I’ll be quick so don’t try anything.” He warns, waving his pointed finger between the both of you before he leaves.

“Look, I’m not going to ask to get back together because I know we want different things.” Yeonjun takes the opportunity to finally say what he’s wanted to say the whole time. “But just to be with you one more night…”

“I want that too, but isn’t that gonna make it too hard?” You try to reason.

“It can’t be any harder than the last few weeks…” And yet, Yeonjun’s words seem to make more sense than you’d like.

“If I’d known the last time I saw you would be the last time, I would have stopped to memorise your face, the way you moved. Everything about you. If I had know the last time I kissed you would be the last time, I never would have stopped.” You’re left speechless by Yeonjun’s confession. Seemingly frozen in shock, your mind blank of all thoughts.

“Kiss him, you fool!” Soobin jolts you out of your daze as he rushes back in to the room.

“Huh?” You scrunch your brows in confusion at your friend. He’s done a complete 180 flip after hearing Yeonjun’s speech.

“Didn’t you hear him? If you don’t kiss him, I will.” You stare at him in shock. This has got to be some sort of test, right?

Except Soobin’s expression is completely serious. You cast several quick glances between Soobin and Yeonjun, observing how the latter sends you an almost pleading look, probably silently begging you to not let Soobin kiss him.

Soobin must be serious about telling you to kiss Yeonjun, because he’s willingly encouraging you. And that’s what finally makes you give in, instantly closing the space between you and Yeonjun, your lips moulding perfectly together in a passionate kiss.

You both pull apart breathless, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes.

“I knew you’d be here!” You jolt apart when the door swings open and slams against the wall.

“Who is this?” Soobin questions, confusion clouding his features.

“It’s my friend Beomgyu.” Yeonjun sighs. “I asked him to keep me away from you.” Yeonjun directs the last part towards you.

You simply giggle at him, half still elated from your kiss, the other in amusement.

“Hey, I’m doing that for (Y/N).” Soobin beams.

“Well you’re not doing a very good job. What’s with all the kissing!” Beomgyu sasses back.

You cast your gaze back to Yeonjun when Soobin and Beomgyu begin bickering back and forth, too invested in their arguing to pay attention to either of you.

“Want to get out of here?” You whisper to him, wide grin on your face when he nods and grabs your hand; both of you sneaking out without being noticed and quickly rushing away to make up for lost time.

“Hey, where’d they go?” Soobin suddenly notices you’re missing.

“Ugh, we blew it.” Beomgyu grumpily mutters, defeatedly throwing his hands in the air.

“I blame myself.” Soobin shakes his head in disappointment.

“I blame you too.” Soobin sends Beomgyu a glare in response.

[isa-ghost]

How do you hold onto hope that anything will be done with Anti or any of Sean's Egos? I fell out of love for JSE and his content about three years ago due to.. I guess just growing up? But I used to check back in from time to time because he used to promise that "Big Thing's" we're coming for his Egos. (Mind you this was before the pandemic took full effect so there wasn't that as an excuse.) I just recently checked his channel and saw he has taken a step back (Good for him and his mental health if he needs that!) from making content. Did he burn out? Is he ever going to do anything with the Ego's? I don't even know why I care at this point? I guess I just want logical answers and you are the smartest JSE fan I know? Anywho. Sorry for the rant. I'll get out of your asks. 🌶

Oookay unpacking this ask time.

Anon thanks in advance for sending this because as feisty as I felt at first, it helped me get out a lot of things I've wanted to say in this regard for a Long Long Time so, yeah. Thank you.

1. Personally I don't like the term "grew up" in reference to CCs or much of anything tbh, because you're rarely too old to enjoy the things you love. But I get what you mean regardless. Just wanted to plop out my take on that topic in general. Never think you're too old to enjoy something harmless though. :)

2. I've been shaky on hope lately, to be honest. He's not been doing a ton of videos in general lately, minus some strays and the Deltarune Chapter 2 series (I genuinely didnt expect him to play it bc he hadnt played another recently released big game I wanted to see him play but he did, and I'm super grateful bc it was killing me lowkey). Which obviously the decision not to make a ton of content at the moment is okay. He's very burnt out, he's been having severe health issues both physically and on/off mentally. The lack of content and low energy he's had lately is just disheartening if that's the right word idk. BUT!! We DO have a MASSIVE Thankmas stream coming in December to look forward to!

I miss him and some days I get kinda,, idk, bitter? About the radio silence. But unlike a lot of people that have been in and out of the JSE Community between 2018 to now, I respect his health and the fact that he's a whole ass human being and has a life and other things he is more than free to do instead whenever the fuck he wants. TLDR I think have better critical thinking skills than some people on here and Twitter lmao. And the last few years have been shit, both in the world and- at least on here -in the community (dare I mention the t*ablogs). Though lately the community is quiet and very very peaceful and enjoyable again. At least in my corner here.

The thing is, I'm not and was never here ONLY for egos. I love Sean and everything about him to bits. He made one of the worst few years I had in the 2010s infinitely more bearable and gave me an explosive amount of inspiration for creativity that I'd not really experienced before. And friends I'll never let go of.

I miss ego content. I want it to keep going. I'm extremely sad it might not continue. But as an artist, I know why he was promising big things once upon a time. When you're a creator and you have a story like this, you want to flesh it out. The motivation and muse is high. People are excited and you want to deliver. The difference with Sean is that he wanted it to be as high in quality as he could push for after all our excitement and incessant thirst for more. And his plans involved a budget and more than just himself and none of it was his main focus. It was a fun side project.

HOWEVER, big projects like this get interrupted by life, smaller projects, distractions and other things. Sean got SLAMMED by all of the above non-stop these last few years and then hit a bad burnout. I think that through it all, he hit that dreaded wall some artists with big, long term plans like the egos story hit and lost motivation. It got overhyped. Pressure got too crushing. Any plans he made to FINALLY continue the ego storyline got murdered by Covid more than once (which.. personally the term "excuse" sounds kinda shitty in reference to that imo but I digress). Making promises only to have outside variables beyond his control break them was killing him, so he just stopped promising. And people who have no respect or patience got annoying and some got straight up inexcusably vulgar, immature and hateful before dramatically fleeing the community in a tantrum like he'd personally come to their house and betrayed them. It was infuriating to watch go down.

But no matter how much it might hurt or be disappointing to see it die out, I'm here for Sean and his journey no matter where it takes him. I'm not sitting here being a stubborn beacon of anything. And I also recognize and (no matter how reluctantly) respect that we aren't OWED ego content. Never were. It was not an obligation no matter how many promises he made or how much hype he stirred up. And to be fair? We drove the hype a million miles further than he EVER did and we can't blame him for that. I hate the people who do. I'm grateful for the ego content we got and I'll cry if we ever get more. But if it's done, it's done and we just have to accept it. I, as sad as I am to, accept it. And we can always make our own.

And finally- thanks for the compliment. Idk if I'd say I'm the SMARTEST but that means a lot either way. :')

I hope this gave some answers even though it came out more of a vent/rant and PSA??

Obviously any JSE followers and mutuals please feel free to reblog this. But don't start any fights, not that I really expect there to be any?

[carewyncromwell]

Charlie 🤝 Carewyn 

Requested by Anon

Whenever Charlie Weasley came home to the U.K., his mother Molly would frequently insist that he stay at the Burrow. On those occasions when Charlie wasn’t able to spend more than a night, or when the Weasleys didn’t have room for him for whatever reason, he always made plans to stay at Carewyn’s flat. Such was the case one night in 1998, not long after the Second Wizarding War had come to an end. Carewyn’s new ward Erik had just started his first year at Hogwarts, and Charlie had swept through England briefly as a favor to his friend and fellow dragonologist Felix Rosier, who now had immediate family awaiting their trial in front of the Wizengamot. As fate would have it, Carewyn was the prosecutor, so Charlie used the excuse of dropping off the paperwork to her to spend time with his “unofficial twin.”

“Didn’t read much of it, but I gather it’s some kind of written testimony, on behalf of his younger siblings,” said Charlie. “And well...as much as I hate those two, and as much as I reckon Felix hates everything they’ve done too, I can’t blame him for wanting to defend them.”

Carewyn sighed. As strained as the Rosier family’s relationships were thanks to Mrs. Rosier’s toxic parenting, she’d guessed Felix would want to offer some defense for Emmett and Boudicca. 

“How is Felix?” she asked, as she moved to place Felix’s letter in a neat stack on top of her desk. “I heard he was with you at the Battle of Hogwarts, but...”

Her eyes darkened noticeably.

“...well, there was so much else going on...”

The faces of Fred, Tonks, Lupin, and Snape all swam through Carewyn’s mind, making her heart throb in ice-cold, numbing pain. 

Charlie’s eyes had lost a lot of their light too. 

“...Yeah. Felix led the rest of us, while I headed for the castle. I had planned to come back, but...well, afterwards, Felix said he completely understood why. Considering what happened to...”

The second eldest Weasley couldn’t say his younger brother’s name aloud. It was like “Fred” was an unpleasant acid that burned his throat, making him choke before he could properly form the letters. 

Carewyn turned away from her desk so she could sweep back over to Charlie, wrapping both of her arms around his neck and holding him tight. Charlie buried his face in Carewyn’s shoulder, his hand securing itself in her shorter hair.

“I shoulda been there, Carey,” he muttered.

“Don’t say that,” Carewyn murmured.  

“I shoulda been there to protect him,” Charlie said more fiercely. “I’m his big brother -- I should’ve made sure nothing happened to -- ”

“You don’t think Percy and Bill don’t feel the exact same way?” Carewyn tried to scold him, but her voice came out just as pained and grieving herself. 

Charlie clenched his teeth. His freckled hand was shaking in her hair. 

Carewyn’s eyes grew a little smaller as she squeezed him that bit tighter.

“...I know you feel like you could’ve done more, Charlie,” she whispered, “and I know what that feels like -- you know I do...”

She brought a hand up to trail along the back of his head. 

“I’ve felt that way ever since Rowan’s death,” she said in a voice so soft it was a mere shadow against his ear. “And I feel it again, every single time I fail anybody I’ve become even the slightest attached to. Any time they suffer, or die, and I could’ve protected them and their family from that pain.”

She trailed a hand along his ponytail. 

“I’ll never know the grief you’re going through -- I know I never could. But...you’re not alone in feeling that guilt...of wishing you were there, to save him. ...I hope you know that.”

Charlie gave a loud sniff. Then his voice came out oddly amused.

“...Talbott always did say you hold yourself to an impossible standard.”

Despite the humor, Carewyn could hear the tears choking his voice. She steadied her hand on the back of his head, almost cradling it. He clung to the back of her shirt and the two rocked back and forth together, as if each of them was trying to comfort the other the way a parent soothes a crying child. 

“He looked up to you, you know,” Charlie said lowly, with a bittersweet smile. “Even though he always joked...I know he did. Him and George.”

Carewyn smiled sadly too through her tears. “And you know how much he and George loved and respected you. Merlin...they only joined the Circle of Khanna at all because of you and Bill...”

Charlie’s own eyes were flooding with tears too as his smile spread to a grin. “Heh...right. Pretty much refused to be kept out, once they found out what we were up to..."

The two “Fireballs” stood together in Carewyn’s sitting room for a while, just hugging and quietly crying. Finally they broke apart just enough to settle down on Carewyn’s couch, where they sat together for a while longer, Charlie resting his head on Carewyn’s shoulder and Carewyn resting her head on top of Charlie’s, while also wordlessly summoning them some cups of coffee from the kitchen.

“Are you worried about him?” Charlie asked abruptly, after a moment.

Carewyn glanced down at him on her shoulder, frowning in slight confusion. 

“Your new kid -- Erik,” supplied Charlie. “He’ll be at Hogwarts now, and...well, Hogwarts wasn’t safe before all this...”

Carewyn relaxed slightly. She angled her face a bit so that it rested in Charlie’s hair.

“I know,” she said lowly. “But Minerva’s Headmistress now. If there’s anyone who’s capable enough to protect the most vulnerable students, it’s her.”

“I’ll never get over how you’re on a first-name basis with my old Head of House,” Charlie said with a cheeky grin. “I mean, that woman was like my aunt -- if my aunt wasn’t gossip-happy Aunt Muriel --”

“Well, you’re the one who hit it off with my ex-Prefect,” Carewyn shot back in return. “You don’t think that’s a bit surreal for me?”

“Hey, Felix is a good bloke, once you learn to avoid his spikes,” Charlie said amusedly. 

“And once he gets over comparing you to your ‘delinquent’ brother,” Carewyn said very coolly. “Or perhaps that’s just me.”

Charlie laughed. As his laughter slowed, his brown eyes flitted up to his “twin’s” head on top of his with a bit of fondness. 

“I’m serious, though -- I’m glad I met him. It’s not every day you find someone else who’s more interested in chasing dragons than the physical assets of the Preserve’s newest recruits,” he added with a roll of his eyes.

Carewyn smiled slightly too. “I know what you mean.”

It baffles me how disheartened Mrs. Weasley is, that I still haven’t ‘found a nice person’ to settle down and start a family with...as if one needs to marry and bear children to find completion in life...

Charlie’s expression softened further as he closed his eyes.

“That’s what I love about you, Carey,” he said with a big grin. “The fact that you know.”

Carewyn smiled a bit more fully herself as she wrapped her arm around Charlie’s shoulders and gave him a sideways hug. 

Yes, perhaps Bill and Carewyn were best friends and had more personality traits in common -- but Charlie and Carewyn were still kindred spirits in their own way, focusing on their dreams and on protecting their loved ones far more than pursuing any romantic prospects. And even when Carewyn did find a romantic partner herself, she and Charlie still shared that independent spark that made them just as happy to be on their own, doing what they loved most in the world. 

Friendship Drabble Prompt! 

[silv3rswirls]

Trust

Anon asks: Hi! So I wanted to make a request for namjoon and his s/o. She tends to always accuse him of cheating on her when a small minor inconvenience happens in their relationship. Namjoon finally gets tired of her act and breaks it off. A few weeks later, she builds up the courage to apologize to him and wishes him well.

Paring: Kim Namjoon/reader

Summary: Tired of your constant accusations Namjoon decides to end things, hoping things will turn out well for the both of you.

Warnings: Breakups, not too angsty

Word Count: 1.2k

“Who was texting you earlier at dinner?”

“Just a friend Y/n” Namjoon sighed, looking over at you with tired eyes as the both of you were winding down and getting ready to go to bed.

“Friend?”

“Yes, friend. Why?”

“You kept smiling at your phone and then someone called you and you walked away.”

Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his cool despite his sleepy demeanor and growing annoyance as you pushed on. He had been talking to a friend, specifically Jungkook, that was all. But when things like this happened you were known to cling onto the subject. Also pointing questions at Namjoon when he received texts and seemed too happy to read them, or when he left you to talk on the phone during dates or at home. The worst was when your relationship would hit a bump; you were always quick to bring up your suspicions of Namjoon cheating.

“It was just Jungkook, okay?” He gave you a pleading look, not in the mood for a big argument. “You’re being too jealous, I thought we talked about this?”

“I’m not jealous.” You defended sternly. “Maybe if you were more open about these things I wouldn’t have to worry.”

“I am open Y/n, I’ve never lied to you. I’ve never given you a reason to doubt our relationship, have I?”

Your face went a little red to match the growing fluster in your tone. “No, but- you know I have a hard time trusting. You can’t blame me for this!”

“Y/n…” Namjoon groaned, resisting the urge to fall back into the bed and bury his face into the covers to block out the world. It was tiring to deal with this all the time. “We fight about this all the time, don’t you think it’s time you put more faith into me? Our relationship isn’t new, we’ve been together for a while, but you act like I'm trying to ruin things.”

“Just don’t act so suspicious and I won’t have to worry.”

“I can’t keep doing this Y/n, please.”

“Doing what?”

“Having you question my every move. I go out with the boys and you accuse me of cheating when I get home, I text others or take calls and you think it’s another girl. There’s tension between us and you think it's because I have another girl.”

You scoffed, “fine, then I guess this isn’t going to work.” You had turned away, arms crossed like a child pouting. Namjoon, despite wanting to pull you in and kiss away your doubts, just frowned deeper.

“Now you get like this, like always.” It was hard to even talk to you about it at times and it drove Namjoon mad.

“I just don’t know what you want from me.”

“I want you to trust me” Namjoon had taken your hand, cradling it gently as he looked you in the eyes, sincerity deep in his tone and his eyes almost begging you to give in.

You bit your lip, pausing a moment to think. “I just can’t, okay?”

“Then this has to end. We have to end it.”

It broke Namjoon’s heart to say, but the fact that you remained silent hurt him more. He decided to sleep on the sofa for the night, telling you to pack some of your things in the morning if you still feel the same way. And when morning came and he woke to find you leaving, bag packed and straight-faced, he had to chew on the inside of his cheek to stop the urge to tell you to forget about last night. This was what was best for him, he couldn’t stay with someone so untrusting.

“Y/n-”

“You’re ending things because there’s someone else, isn’t there?”

Namjoon’s face fell, “No...no I’m sorry you think that.” He watched you leave, a sense of dread yet relief hitting him as the door closed.

…..

Despite wanting to, Namjoon refrained from contacting you after the breakup. He missed you and had cared a lot about your relationship. He wished he could’ve been okay with your jealousy and distrust, but he had to be honest with himself. A relationship shouldn’t be filled with that kind of thing, maybe here and there or when a mistake was made to warrant the stress, but Namjoon had never done anything like that. Deep down he knew it wasn’t a problem, you had your own hang-ups, but he couldn’t excuse it for you. It was better this way. You clearly needed some time to reflect and work on yourself, but Namjoon wished you had been more willing to let him help you.

It would be okay though, Namjoon told himself. Things didn’t end badly or explosively at least.

It had been a few weeks, close to a month, before Namjoon saw you again. He had just been at a park, taking some time to stroll and calm his mind from his recent work. It was a nice day, breezy and warm; the kind of weather he had liked to enjoy with you. You met by chance, Namjoon was leaving the park and you were heading in. He hesitated to get your attention, but you ended up spotting him anyway. You came up with a shy smile and Namjoon was glad to see that you seemed happy.

“Hey Joon” you smiled, fidgeting with the strap of your bag.

“Hey, how have you been?”

“Good, just...uhm, this might be awkward, but I should say it.” You took a second, taking a deep breath and collecting your thoughts. “I’ve just been thinking about what happened between us a lot recently and you deserve an apology. It took some time to realize, but you were right, I was really unfair to you.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, “I know Y/n.”

“I just thought I’d say sorry, I wasn’t easy to deal with, was I?” You laughed, small and a bit awkward. Namjoon did as well, still wearing a genuine smile for you.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. Are you busy? We can get coffee, catch up?” He was hopeful, it seemed you had done a lot of thinking the last month.

“Ah, I’m meeting my friend now, but thanks anyway.” You moved to walk away, stopping a moment to look back at him. “Thanks for everything you did while we were together Namjoon. Thank you, you are amazing.” You held back the stutter in your tone, hoping it didn’t look like you wanted to cry. “Good luck with the new album.”

“I’ll see you around?” He asked.

“Yeah...maybe” you smiled one last time, “have a good time, okay?”

Namjoon nodded, feeling better about what had happened. Still sad it had to happen, but confident that the both of you would be okay.

[mandoalorian]

I absolutely LOVE the sequel of the Javi one shot. It was painful and well detailed. I need more more more. Can you make a continuation??? Thank you, your works bless my life

Goodbye [Javier Peña x Reader]

Word count: 1.5k

Rating: 16+

Warnings: mention of hospital, major character death

Authors note: It’s crazy how the first part of this was meant to be just a one shot, and then people wanted a part two, so I wrote it, and now here we are at part three. I’ve never had this many requests to write anything— so thank you to the six anons, @wickedfrsgrl , @wonderfulfluffer , @ah-callie , and @impala1967666 . That being said, I hope you enjoy.

Part One • Part Two • Part Three

Masterlist

Javier pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut as he paced around the hospital waiting room.

"Javi," Steve sighed, briefly looking up from his newspaper. "You're gonna drive me crazy. Could you just- sit still?" he asked, raising his dark blonde eyebrows. Javi shot him a glare for being so insensitive, but deep down he knew his best friend didn't mean it.

"I need a drink," Javier ran his fingers through his dark brown hair. "And a smoke."

"No smoking policy!" the receptionist bellowed, overhearing Javi's words. Javi cursed under his breath, shaking his head and feeling completely and utterly defeated.

"Javi, sit." Steve said calmly.

"It's all my fault." Javi choked back a sob. His short fingernails pressed into his denim clad thighs as furiosity enveloped his body.

"Javi." Steve repeated, this time more sternly. Javier nodded understandingly and slid into the mint blue hospital chair right next to Steve. He couldn't stop anxiously shaking his legs as he waited for the doctor to come and bear bad news. Javier was always a pessimist, after all.

"Mr Javier Peña?" Doctor Martinez called, clutching a clipboard and smoothing down his white coat. "Javier Peña?"

"That's me!" Javier practically bounced up and bolted over to the doctor. "How is she? Is she okay? Is she alive? Please doctor, tell me she's alright. I need to kn-"

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down," Doctor Martinez raised two of his hands in a defensive manner.

"Fuck." Javi hissed, cursing himself for the way he was acting. Javier was always calm, even in the scariest of situations. He had faced off with drug lords and crime syndicates and kept his cool… but in this moment, knowing that the love of his life was in a life or death state, he could hardly breathe.

"She's stable," Doctor Martinez revealed after what felt like an eternity of waiting. Javier's whole body deflated in relief. "She's… awake." Doctor Martinez said hesitantly and Steve glanced up, watching Javier as the colour drained back into his face. "She's… asking to see you, Mr Peña." The doctor revealed.

"Me?" Javier raised his eyebrows, delighted that you had requested to see him. Then, his heart sank. He had almost gotten you killed. Surely you'd want to break up with him. He felt himself begin to tear up and the waiting room started to spin from his nerves. Everything was a hazy blur.

"Yeah," Doctor Martinez nodded. "But she's under a lot of sedatives and I ask that you don't stress her out too much. Just talk softly and be gentle."

"Always." Javier promised.

"And Mr Peña?" Doctor Martinez called before the agent could leave. "Just because she's stable, doesn't mean she's healthy. The wound was very close to her heart and it's going to take a lot to recover. Even if she does recover… there's a good chance things might never be the same again."

Javier shrugged off the doctor's comment, not quite sure what he was getting at, before stalking over to your small and isolated hospital room. He was aware the injury was bad— but you were stable. You were stable and that was good enough. When Javier saw you lying in the hospital bed, propped up by pillows, his heart fluttered. There you were; alive and breathing. He thanked his lucky stars and padded towards you, sitting at the edge of the bed.

With struggle, you managed to turn your neck to face your boyfriend and offered him a warm smile. A smile that Javier could never grow tired of seeing. Javier placed his warm hand over your cool hand, his fingers softly rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

"Hi Javi," you whispered. "I missed you."

"I'm so glad you're awake," Javier confessed, unable to rid himself of the happy grin that crossed his face. "Shit baby, I was so worried."

"I'm sorry for worrying you," you croaked, nodding sadly. "Javi, did they tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Javi asked. You frowned, looking down at his big hand that covered your smaller hand. You were going to miss these hands.

"I'm sick," you said weakly, a shooting pain crossing your chest.

"You're stable," he corrected with optimism. Who would've guessed, Javier Peña having optimism? "You're not getting better but you sure as hell aren't getting worse. Everything will be fine."

But part of you knew that deep down, it wasn't going to be fine. It wasn't just the drugs or the medication that was making you sleepy, it was that your body was slowly shutting down. You'd had your time on this planet, you lived a beautiful and happy life. You fell in love, and you had everything you could've ever wanted. No regrets.

"Javier…" you spoke his name softly, like it might be the last time. "I love you."

"I love you too sweetheart," Javier mumbled, pressing a kiss into your temple. You shuddered as the smell of his familiar cologne washed over you. He made you feel like you were at home. You wondered if you'd ever be able to step foot in your quaint little apartment that you shared with Javier ever again. You hoped and prayed that you would.

Your breathing was shallow, you could feel your lungs rattle with every breath you took. Every waking second was painful, but during these few minutes you spent with Javier, everything felt normal. No pain, just love. "I- I was thinking," Javier started, moving his hand from yours. He began to nervously pick at his fingernails. "After this, I'm done. I'm done with this DEA bullshit. Nothing else matters— only you. I only love you. We got enough money to live off. Maybe I could start teaching, huh? Don't know how good I'd be with kids but you always joked about me becoming a professor at the university." You laughed weakly at the memory and Javier smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "So, I quit the DEA. And let's say, you know… we get married. Move into a bigger home, in the suburbs, just like where you grew up. White picket fence, we could get a dog…"

You chuckled, shaking your head as tears pricked your eyes. "You hate the suburbs."

"But I love you," Javier cupped your cheek with his hand and you subconsciously leaned into him. "I'll always love you."

You nodded your head slowly, taking in every moment. You knew your time was coming, but you didn't want to tell him. He was so hopeful, so full of life. Just this once, you were so thankful to see Javier full of optimism. You hoped that, even in your passing, he would remain this way. For you.

"Mr Peña," Doctor Martinez came in holding his clipboard tight to his chest. "It's time for you to leave."

Javier nodded. He stood up, leaned down to brush a kiss against your cold lips and swallowed. "I'll miss you." you confessed, trying to hold back tears. You weren't going to cry in front of him.

"Hey, I'll see you soon, okay?" Javier promised.

A single tear slipped down your cheek as you could do nothing but nod your head in affirmation. You crooked your neck, watching as Javier walked out of the hospital room. It wasn't until he wasn't until he was gone, you knew that you could finally rest.

Javier had been home ten minutes when he had gotten the call. Ten fucking minutes. His whole world came crumbling down, he swore his heart stopped. A blinding pain shot through his whole body as he fell to his knees. Tears spilled from his eyes as he sobbed uncontrollably, a string of curses leaving his lips. How could the world be so cruel?

"Mr Peña, I'm sorry," Doctor Martinez said over the phone. "Sometimes these things happen. There can be a quick turn over. She was stable but…"

Javier didn't want to hear anymore. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. He slammed the phone down on the hook and kicked the table over, glass smashing all over the wooden floor. He screamed, pulling the cushions from the sofa and knocking the bookshelf down in a fit of pure rage and hurt.

You were gone, and Javier had no one to blame other than himself.

Taglists — let me know if you wish to be added!

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190

[generallybarzy]

forgot

an: anon asked for the prompts: “Do you even care anymore?” and “Where have you been?” from a prompt list, and I got all of this finished in 3 hours. 

word count: 1.6k

song inspo (of many others): make it up to you, imagine dragons

Of all nights…

Of all nights, tonight was the night Mat went out. Tonight was the night he didn’t come home to you, but left you waiting on the couch in your pretty dress, fancy new heels tossed to the side, sipping wine and staring ahead at reruns of The Office- the show you always watched with Mat- before turning the TV off completely, tears in your pretty eyes, mascara smearing. Tonight was the night he broke his promise. 

You liked to think you were lenient. You knew Mat liked to go out with his friends after games, especially when there was no practice the next day, to have a few drinks and have a bit of fun, and usually you were there with him. But even the nights you weren’t there with him, you let him have his fun. There was no harm in it, he never drank too much and always got an uber home and climbed into bed with you, even when he was drunk and waking you up in his tipsy stupor and giggling at how “Ugh, you’re such a cutie. God I’m so lucky to have you. Missed you baby.” and peppering kisses along you next and shoulders. But tonight was the one night you needed him to come home, the one night he promised he’d be in your arms minutes after the game, and even as it neared midnight, he was nowhere to be found. 

Tonight, only two hours after the Islanders game ended, was the night of a special gala you and a handful of classmates had helped coordinate for one of your college classes, and Mat was supposed to be accompanying you. He promised. You were all dolled up for him, your dress getting wrinkled and your makeup getting smudged from hours of laying on the couch and crying. You were lucky the professor didn’t require you to be there for full credit, and all your friends understood when you told them why you couldn’t come. Your heart, which you had slowly but surely built up the confidence to open wholly to Mat after years of heartache, was broken and bleeding. Because of him.

He promised never to hurt you. 

The doorknob rattled and you realized just how long you’d been lying there, waiting for him. You didn’t have the energy to sit up, to look at him. You knew a fresh wave of tears was coming, and all you would want to do was to fall into his arms, so you stayed where you were, staring at the TV. 

A key turned in the lock, the door opened, and you could feel Mat’s eyes find the back of your head.. “Babe, I thought you were asleep, the door was-”

The door was locked. He never came home to a locked door- you always greeted him with a smile and a kiss and a congratulations, no matter how the game played out. You weren’t there tonight. But before he could finish, you spoke up from the couch. 

“Where have you been?”

“Out with the team?” Mat seemed confused, his voice was soft and you could practically hear his happiness to be home deflating immediately. You knew he always tried to do his best, but you were trying not to be sympathetic. You wanted to be angry, but the only thing you felt was sadness. You could tell he was uncomfortable, still standing only right inside the doorway and glancing around as if he didn’t feel right in his own apartment, trying to figure out what he did wrong. “Why? Did I…..”

So he completely forgot. 

You stood from your spot and turned to face him, realizing that his face had fallen into a worried pout like you expected it to. Like you could already see in your head before he walked in. When he spotted the beautiful navy blue dress he had bought for you that matched his favorite suit, his own words came back to his head.

“We’re gonna to look like the cutest couple out there.” His hazel eyes, gleaming with pride and adoration, caught yours in the mirror, smiling when they did. You were wearing a dark blue dress, sleek and long with a pretty slit up the leg, and a sparkly necklace that Mat had bought for you. He was sporting his own brand new navy blue suit and a bowtie that you insisted was adorable, and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing the side of your neck. “All your friends are gonna be so jealous.” 

“Thank you for agreeing to go with me.”

“Anytime.” And you knew he meant it. He never let you down. “You worked so hard on this, and I’m so proud of you.” His face split into a huge grin when he saw you smile bashfully in the mirror, and he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Fuck…” 

“Remember yet?”

“Fuck, fuck, oh my God, I’m so sorry baby.” He took a step forward, reaching his hands out to try and pull you in, try to comfort you. When you shook your head and stepped back, he froze in his spot, lifting his hands to fist through his hair. “I- I can’t even… I’m so sorry… I-”

“I reminded you this morning. How did you forget? Do you even care anymore?”

Mat’s eyes were wide with panic. He’d never forgotten a date before, you’d give him that, but you were just so upset that it had to be tonight. “Of course I care, oh my God, baby, I care so much. I- I don’t… I guess I was so focused on the game I just…” He let out a shaky breath, balling his fists up and squeezing to try and calm himself. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It went great, by the way. I asked my friends. They missed me tonight.” After a moment of silence that neither of you could find the right words to fill, you turned towards the bedroom. 

“Baby?” 

You said nothing to him as you closed the door to change out of your dress. You weren’t mad, you weren’t about to fight with him, and a part of you felt bad for making him feel so guilty, but you were so upset with him. You were gonna let him feel bad for a bit, and you were gonna let yourself stew in your emotions. You knew he didn’t mean it, you knew he felt bad, but knowing your plans were that easy for him to forget, that hurt. Once you were dressed comfortably and your face was wiped clear of makeup and the only sign of your previous crying session was the red around your eyes, you opened the door to the bedroom.

Mat was sitting on the couch quietly, doing nothing but staring straight ahead, lost in thought and bouncing his knee, and you assumed he was prepared to spend the night out there. As much as you were upset with him and how bad he had made you cry, you couldn’t sleep without him.

“Mat, get in here.” 

His eyes snapped up and he stood before you could change your mind. You climbed into bed while he changed, and then he stood by the bed. “Can I sleep here?” 

“Of course, Mat.” 

He cuddled down under the covers, watching you with sad, gentle eyes, and not moving from where he lay, as if he needed your permission before doing anything else. 

“I’m not angry, Mat.” 

“You’re not?”

“I don’t want to fight, I’m just sad.” Mat nodded, looking away from you for a moment. The light in his eyes was dim and blurry, and his breath was uneven as you turned your body towards his. “Any other night, I wouldn’t care, you know that. But tonight… you promised to be here.”

With a soft, shaky whisper, he spoke up. “I’m sorry.” The tears streamed sideways down his face, dripped off the tip of his nose and onto the pillow, and you couldn’t help but sniffe as well. Abandoning the cold exterior you’d tried to keep up, and the coolness you tried to keep about you, you scootched over and wrapped yourself around his warm expanse of body. His face pressed into the top of your hair, breathing in your strawberry shampoo and wrapping his arms around you to try and ground himself, to silence his sobs. “I’m sorry, I- I wanted to go, I promise I did, I’m sorry, I’m- I love you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t- I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“I love you, Mat. I know you didn’t mean to forget, I know you’ve been busy this season, and I get that it’s probably easy to forget stuff, You have a lot to balance.”

“That doesn’t excuse what I-”

“Maty, I don’t blame you, alright? It just hurts.” You ran your hands up his cheeks, tilting him up to look at you. “I know you love me, I know you wanted to be there, I’m not going to hold this over you, alright? I’m just a little sad right now.” 

Mat took a few more deep breaths to calm himself. “Baby.” He pressed his forehead against your, eyes boring into you intimately. “I swear I’m going to be there for you no matter what. Okay? I’ll- I won’t ever let this happen again. I’ll make this right, I promise. I’ll take you out tomorrow, all day, we’ll do whatever you want. I’ll get you a chance to wear that pretty dress again. I’ll make it up to you, I’ll- you just gotta believe me, baby, I- I love,. just, tell me, please tell me we’ll be okay?”

You stroked his tear-stained face with gentle touches and leaned in to silence him, pressing a kiss against his lips, a gentle kiss, filled with tenderness and care and apology and forgiveness. 

“We’re okay. We’re okay.”

[scartale-an-undertale-au]

With everything happening to Israel, I hope you’re ok

thank you :D i’m fortunately mostly safe from what’s happening. i only had a siren once and heard the booms only several times and i don’t live near the areas where the riots and lynches are happening.

here is my rant about the situation

sadly, though, i do have to read a lot of posts from ignorant people who clearly haven’t done any research into the situation (i.e. don’t live in it, didn’t watch the israeli news, or plain just believes whatever pallywood posts). i don’t have much influence sadly but i have to make things clear to people who might be confused - the situation began because of people unbelieving that they live in a society and do, in fact, have to act like it. it started in six houses where the residents were evicted because they weren’t paying rent for decades despite the agreements and somehow they turned it into a international thing. then rioters were throwing rocks from the mosque and running into it when the soldiers came and were like ‘how dare they go into a holy place’ while they cowardly threw rocks from a mosque* on ramadaan like, wow, talk about desecrating a holy place. 

and ofc the whole hamas shooting thousands of rockets into israel, with a third of its rockets landing in gaza killing many gazans. idf attacking high profile hamas operators and warning citizens of the buildings they were going to bomb because what a surprise, hamas hides behind its citizens and then blames it on israel. we literally have a history of giving medical treatment to gazans, i don’t know how else to tell people that we give a crap. because we could have literally erased gaza from the earth. also the reason they dont have electricity? one of the rockets hit the power line. karma is a bitch but sadly it harms the citizens more than the actual bastards in hamas. btw, those rockets? those tunnels that they built to get into israel? all those villas to the leaders? where do you think the money came from? they came from all the money that was given for the citizens. the citizens saw none of it.

also, anyone calling gaza an open air prison is an idiot who never opened an atlas because they think all gaza’s borders are in israel.

well, boo boo, wrong! its southern border is with *drums roll* egypt. which, btw, actually blocks the border from anything. so, like, once again, israel gets the heat for being pushovers, great.

we had sadly jews attacking and lynching on arabs and that something that should never have happened and i’ll never be happy that those things happened. but it didn’t happen in a bubble. it wasn’t also the only kind of attacks that happened. arabs attacking and lynching on cars, on people. they burned down synagogues! they burned down holy places with torah scrolls that were destroyed and the pictures literally look like the  Kristallnacht in 1938. one time, an arab saw it happening and managed to save the torah scrolls and omg, what an amazing guy. but still, so many holy scriptures were burnt and destroyed. the images are horrifying and i’m crying by just remembering. because israel is supposed to be the place jews would feel safe finally. we were supposed to be safe from progroms, from lynching, from our holy places being treated like firewood.

you have the right extremities attacking arabs, and you have jews unable to decide if they should stay at their homes during a siren and risk being hit by a rocket or brave the mamad (bunker) with their arab neighbors that are suddenly hostile to the point of attacking.

israel was never perfect. we have so much to improve and racism is still an issue. but also remember that we are less than 75 years old. it took the usa over 200 years to even begin to deal with its racism. we had to deal with so many wars just to exist and we don’t have the benefit of the sea as a barrier. you can literally drive down south and suddenly find yourself in jordan.

but the fact that the world immediately decided that we’re the bad guys no matter how much we strive to do good and for peace despite everyone wanting us gone (not in a different state, gone. dead. in the goddamn sea.).

the world is treating the palestinians like little babies who can do no harm. i hate to break it to them, but they can and did do a whole lot of harm. a lot of israeli arabs have helped israeli jews in so many cases in the past and present. a lot of medical professionals are arabs. they came to help after the tragedy in meron mountain. a lot of amazing stories of them being kind and true brethren. a lot of stories of co-existing. but they were literally crumbled down to nothing when suddenly the mixed cities began exploding with lynches and attacks and just pure terror. bedouins blocking one of the main roads to be’er sheba. electricity boxes being destroyed, leaving many people (mainly israeli jews) without it and no batteries or internet

i’m ranting now because if i have to read another post crying over palestinians children being harmed and then sneering at israeli people for existing and wishing for their deaths, i will literally go to them to shoot their legs myself (don’t know how, but i will) because children are already showing signs of extreme ptsd, of anxiety. the south (especially the area around the border with gaza) had been dealing with constant rockets for 20 years. children grow up so traumatized they can’t be soldiers because the sound of a gun going off sends them into a panic attack.

like, the usa is asking israel and hamas to have a cease fire, but it keeps basically looking at israel to back down and i’m so in the mood to say ‘no. i say, get the citizens out and just raze the place down’ even if it’s impossible to actively do. i’m done with sjw thinking they’re so woke and amazing for supporting the palestinians while they’re actually supporting the destruction of israel over all and the jews in particular.

because guess what? antisemitism have never been more in fashion.

(i’m sorry for going off on an adorable anon wanting to see me safe, but thank you for letting me go off like that. i needed to rant. also, anyone spreading hate should be ashamed)

p.s. anyone wanting to rant about apartheid or occupied territory, go open a dictionary or a history book on what actual apartheid is and then go check the archeological evidence of jews having occupied the land of israel before islam was a thing and even before christianity was a thing. especially how the dome of the rock was built on the temple mount. on top of what used to be the holy temples for the jews. you also always had jews living in israel in small numbers. we were never truly gone from the land of israel.

p.s.s. a good video i found that summarizes mostly well is ‘geography now-israel’. it’s not perfect but it gets the point across.

[ithebookhoarder]

Hey! I love your story the gangsters daughter SO much and I was wondering if I could request something based on it?

Where it’s the night before Evie’s wedding and she goes to Tommy’s office to talk as she’s nervous and they have a fluffy moment where he doesn’t think he’s ready for her to get married! ☺️

Cold Feet (Parent!Tommy Shelby x Evie)

A/N: Ok ok ok. First of all anon, how dare you be so fluffing cute?! And second, OF COURSE YOU CAN! I love Evie and I’m always looking for excuses to write for my baby. Also, I’m totally not crying at the thought of Tommy having to let his little girl go and get married and just wanting her to be happy... I just have something in my eye. 

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of smoking. Let me know if I missed anything. 

Masterlist:

Tommy had always known this day would come. 

It was as inevitable as death was for every single living thing on this planet. 

No matter how hard he’d prayed that he’d have just a little more time left, his luck had finally run out. There was no delaying it any longer now that the day was almost upon him when his life would change in a way that would alter his world forever. 

It was tomorrow, in fact, that Tommy would see Evie shed the Shelby name for another. 

True, he could not have chosen a more worthy candidate, and knew Toby would love Evie as she deserved to be loved. That didn't lessen the sting it caused though, to know his days as the only male in her life were now over. Soon, she would no longer be his, no longer living in the same house as him. She would be a married woman, and that filled Tommy with incredible joy, and incredible sorrow at the same time.

This was the curse of fathers. 

It seemed only yesterday that she was small enough to not even care about boys, let alone marriage. He remembered a particular conversation with fondness, when Evie had only been with them a few months or so. 

It had been in the wake of a row over Ada’s most recent conquest at the time. An annoying boy, Liam had only lasted three dates before being scared off by Arthur, John, and Tommy.  Despite being nothing particularly special, Ada had been incredibly enraged, yelling about how she wanted to marry him and that she’d never find love again. 

Of course, Evie had found the whole thing hilarious, if not a little confusing. Hence, when she’d sat up in bed that night, as Tommy passed by her room one final time, he couldn’t help but smile at her quizzical expression. 

“But, Dad. If she loves him what’s wrong with that? Besides, Mum had a baby on her own… if Ada did end up pregnant would it really be so horrible? She’d have a child, like me, and you all warmed up to me pretty quickly.”

“Well,” Tommy had begun, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of this discussion with his only recently recovered twelve-year old daughter. Polly was always far better at talking about this kind of stuff. “It’s… you see… people tend to only have children when they’re married.”

“Why?”

“It’s just how things are done.”

“Well, that’s stupid.”

Tommy smirked. “Most people would agree with you, but a lot don’t. They can be horrible and cruel, even to women who were in love but weren’t married when they had a kid. So, we’re trying to spare Ada from that. It’s fucking complicated, but at the end of the day, she deserves to be happy, doesn’t she?” 

“Yes,” Evie sighed, suddenly staring down at her bedsheets nervously. “But… does that mean Auntie Martha was right? That I have to get married when I grow up? But Dad, the only boys I like are you… and my uncles… I don’t suppose I could marry one of them?”

Tommy immediately bit back his laughter as he shook his head and held her close. “I’m afraid Martha would object to you marrying our John. Besides, you don’t want one of us old men when you can find someone young and handsome who you love very much.”

“But how will I know who that is? Or if they’re good or not?” she asked innocently. 

“I’ll help you,” Tommy offered, not without a little hesitation. To even think such a time would exist, when he would have to part with his daughter, when he’d only just found her again… “You can depend on it. Any unworthy bastards will be driven away by me, and the hounds.”

At that Evie spluttered into laughter, before pressing a kiss to her father’s cheek. “Now that, I would pay to see.”

Well, that day had come and gone and Tommy hadn’t released any hounds. No. The only hound in sight was Cyril, and he’d warmed incredibly quickly to the new member of the family. 

He hadn’t been the only one either. In fact, Tommy had rolled out the red fucking carpet, welcoming the man into the family. Sure, it hadn’t been without its challenges along the way, but as much as Tommy hated to admit it, Toby was a good man. More than that, he’d proved his loyalty to the family, and to Evie, over and over again. 

If he had to part with Evie to anyone, then at least it was to someone as decent as Toby. It made the whole ordeal hurt just a little less as he sipped his whiskey and stared out of the study window. 

Despite the late hour, there were still faint laughs and shrieks of delight echoing from upstairs. Ada, Lara, Polly and Lizzie were most likely to blame, having taken charge of Evie’s so called ‘last night of freedom’. Tommy didn’t know what that entailed exactly and he didn’t even want to try and guess. Not given how much champagne they’d lugged upstairs with them earlier, having returned from a busy evening dancing at a local club. 

If they weren’t all hungover as hell in the morning it would be a minor miracle. 

Still, as long as they got their asses to church on time and didn’t throw up on the minister, then everything would be fine. No. It would be perfect. Tommy had promised Evie that much and he’d be damned before he failed to deliver a promise as solemn as this one. 

She’d done the same for him, twice in fact, even if his union to Lizzie had been a far simpler affair than his first marriage to Grace. 

At least Evie hadn’t insisted on there being a ‘father of the bride’ toast - even if Ada had… Somehow, Tommy knew his would never be anywhere as good as the ones his daughter had given. 

She always had had a way with words.  

“Dad?”

Tommy froze. 

Speak of the devil and she shall appear. 

He was startled by the sound of her voice, echoing from the open doorway, as if summoned by his worry. He’d almost thought he’d imagined it until he turned and saw her standing there, looking a little worse for wear in her finery. 

Apparently he’d been right; she’d had a very fun evening.  

“Evie?” he blinked, clearing his throat as he tried to compose himself. “What are you doing down here? It’s late and I thought you’d be upstairs celebrating a bit longer. Big day tomorrow.”

Evie smiled, shrugging as she stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. She knew she never needed an invitation, having given up knocking long ago. 

“I was but… I don’t know. I just wanted to come and see you, if that’s alright?”

It would always be alright. Tommy hoped she knew that, even if the anxiety in her eyes said otherwise. Then again, he suspected the nervous energy wasn’t directly aimed at him.  

Over a decade later, he knew his daughter better than he knew himself. It was why he nodded, gesturing to the seat next to him in a clear invitation. “Of course it is, but won’t the others miss you?” 

“Oh, they’re all too busy finishing the last of the wine to miss me right away and… I don’t know why but I needed a minute away from everything. It was all a bit… much.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to my world. This family has always been a bit much,” Tommy teased. That was why they both loved them though. The Shelby spirit was strong and made them who they were. They wouldn’t change it for the world, even if it did drive them nuts on occasion. 

And Toby was willingly entering this family, why? 

“I’m almost scared to ask what’s being going on up there.”

“Probably wise, Dad. No one should see thing things I have tonight.” 

“I thought so.”

A laugh escaped Evie’s lips as she sat beside him, accepting the glass of whiskey he handed her without a second thought. It was simply routine by this point, the two of them caught in a silent routine on nights like this when they needed to simply clear their heads and think. 

It was an unwritten agreement between the pair of them. As was the somewhat confessional nature this room had taken on in its time under the Shelby household. So much had happened since they’d first moved in to Arrow House, from Charles and Ruby being born, to losing Grace, to Evie falling in love, Tommy’s ascension to Parliament, losing John and Esme, Lizzie and Tommy’s wedding… 

Only a decade or so, and yet Evie felt like a whole novel would never be enough to capture her family’s history or the almost surreal events that had taken place.

“Besides, it’s been a while since we had a talk like this, Dad,” Evie continued, shrugging as she sipped her drink and stared at the room. “Everything’s been happening so fast since Toby proposed. It feels like we haven’t had a moment to breathe, really. You’ve been so helpful, agreeing to everything and allowing us to turn this place upside down. I can’t thank you enough for that, by the way. I half expected you to be like Arthur yelling at the florist earlier.”

“It’s the least I can do, Evie. It’s not every day my daughter gets married - and he yelled so I didn’t have to. Fucking trying to sneak carnations in when the order clearly said Clematis with the centrepieces.”

Evie snorted, failing to hide the fact hearing Tommy Shelby raging about flowers was possibly the funniest thing to have ever happened. Ever. Good thing he hadn’t been there when someone had accidentally delivered the wrong amount of chairs for the tent erected out on the lawn. She could only imagine the carnage that would have occurred.  

“My knight in shining armour.” 

“Always. No ring changes that, Evie. I’ll always be there for you, whether it be to fend off blind florists or worse.” 

Despite the fact he acted as if he was merely joking, Evie knew her father meant each and every word. He always had. Even with their ups and downs, he had never abandoned her, always trying to do what was best for her, even if he went about it the wrong way from time to time. 

When she thought back now, to the day she’d first met him in that graveyard, on what had been one of the darkest days of her life, she wished she could tell her younger self not to be afraid. To not be angry or scared of the future before her and the wondrous people that would be in it, thanks to the wonderful man she got to call her father. 

“Dad, can… can I ask you a question? About tomorrow?” 

Tommy hummed softly. “I don’t know what I can tell you about weddings, but fine. Of course.”

“It’s not about the wedding per say, more the bit after. I just… I’m scared, Dad. I don’t know why but I am.”

The words made Tommy’s heart plummet before he’d even realised what she’d said. It took everything in him not to panic or try and express the pain he felt at the idea his daughter was scared about what was supposed to be a happy day - a happy and expensive one, even if Tobias had money enough to cover a lot of the costs. 

“Of what?” 

“I don’t know,” Evie whispered, almost as if ashamed to confess it. “I’m so happy and excited to start the life together Toby and I have talked about for years but, now that it’s here? I don’t know. I just … I feel like I’m going to throw up or pass out and I don’t know why. Is something wrong with me? Who gets terrified of their own wedding?”

“Every fucking sane person on the planet,” Tommy countered swiftly, a hand reaching out to take hers. “As someone with experience here, you can trust me when I say everyone gets scared, Evie. Everyone. No matter how certain you are that you love the person or that this is the right next step.”  

“But why?” 

“Because it’s a big commitment,” Tommy continued, “and it’s a new chapter in your life. That’s exciting but also terrifying. To know you have a chance to start a family of your own? To choose your own path? That’s nothing to take lightly, and if I didn’t think you wanted this, or that you weren’t ready, I would have said something before now. You can count on that.” 

He had a point.  

“And I know you, Evelyn Shelby. You have never let anything or anyone stop you from going after what you want, even if it’s scary or someone says no. If being with Tobias is what you want, then so be it. You’re a grown woman, as much as I fucking hate to admit it. I think you’ve proven over and over again that you’re the bravest one out of the lot of us, and I’m so proud of you. Your Mother would be too. She’d want you to be happy and to enjoy tomorrow for what it is: the start of another chapter in your incredible life.” 

The thought of her absence was enough to make Evie’s eyes sting with tears, as was the conviction with which her father spoke about her. The pride was clear, even if he looked a little scared himself at what tomorrow would bring for them all. 

“Thank you.”

Tommy nodded, knowing better than to argue as she threw herself at him, coiling herself around him as she often did. Ever since the first time she’d done it, he’d been unable to resist it. So what? His daughter’s embrace was one of the few in the world that made him feel loved. It was as if her presence alone was enough to restore him, to banish whatever was troubling him. 

The thought he wouldn’t just be able to have such hugs so frequently made his heart ache even more. 

He didn’t want her to go. 

In his eyes, she was still the twelve-year-old girl he’d first met. She always would be, no matter how much she insisted on growing up and being a so called ‘adult’. It was why he planned on keeping her room upstairs exactly as it was now, just in the case she ever needed or even wanted it. 

That, and because he physically couldn’t bear to erase any remaining traces of her from his home. Of course, Lizzie had teased him rotten about it, even if she understood. Still young, Lizzie hated the thought of Ruby ever growing up and leaving her for anyone - let alone a husband. 

At least they had some time left before that would be happening. Tommy didn’t know if he could survive anymore heartache so soon.

“I love you, so much, Evie,” Tommy whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and holding her close. “You’ll always be my little girl, and you’ll always be welcome here. Anytime, day or night. This will still be your home, and we’ll still be your family. If anything, we’re simply gaining more members, not losing any. Understand?”

“Yes,” Evie nodded, wiping her eyes as she shot him a watery smile. “I love you too, Dad, even if I swear I’m supposed to be the one telling you all this. Isn’t it normally the father of the bride who’s supposed to get all teary eyed and jittery the night before?”

“We’ve never been conventional, Evie. In case you forgot, we have politicians, the Lee branch of the family, and Alfie fucking Solomons all coming tomorrow, for fucks sake. Why should we start worrying about tradition now?” 

Evie’s laughter was infectious at the picture of the eclectic scene awaiting them, especially considering how excited Alfie had been at the prospect of attending a Shelby wedding. Oh, Arthur was going to explode at the sight of the Jewish gangster sat in all his finery. That, and when he saw the huge gift he had been promising her for weeks now.  

She couldn’t wait.  

“True. Well, traditional or not, I’m so grateful for the life we have, Dad. I’ll never be able to tell you how grateful I am that you were the person who showed up at that graveyard,” she confessed. “There’s no one else in the whole world I want to be my side tomorrow. You’ll still walk me down the aisle, right?”

Tommy beamed. “How can you ask that, Evelyn Shelby? I’ve always been right beside you and tomorrow is no different. Wild horses couldn’t stop me.” 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Tommy whispered, “simply enjoy yourself and let me and the others take care of the rest. That’s all the thanks we need… and maybe call once in a while, just so I know you’re alright.”

Evie laughed, knowing she would probably still end up here most of the time anyway after she was married. But she agreed, pleased to put his mind at rest as well as he’d put her own. “I really do love you, Dad.” 

“And I love you too, Evie. Always.” 

[shoezuki]

Getting bored, of Walls 2

I should find a new minigame

October 2013, saw the game and I thought

Oh my god, the fuck is this

So many, op kits

But I guess, I’ll play a game

Horse tamers, every game

Dominating winter all day long

Everybody's kits the same

Because it is so damn strong

But hey, I can survive

I get better ping here, than to the Hive

Teams and hackers, everywhere

But nobody plays blitz to be fair

So I’ll keep on playing

And get horsetamer 6

My horse is fast but stupid

And I will call it Brick

Toxicologist gets added

With a level 5 stone sword

Keep going with a single dream that

One day I’ll be leaderboards

Gonna join another map

But I know it’s all in vain

Trying to earn some coins..

But it’s not worth the pain

Got a long list of level 7s...

No high level kits I've gained...

Keep getting rogue’d in deathmatch

But that's just the game

Hypixel, gets a new host

I will miss you 30 ping

Now it’s on, the east coast

But now I only want one thing

To get, the youtube rank

What the fuck it’s 30k subs

And I join the Elite team

Screaming, crying, horse users

As we nerf their kit to bits

Don’t worry, toxic’s next

We’ll completely revamp blitz

Make it, a whole new game

While i try, and rise to fame

I’ll make for, myself a name

When I’m done here this game will never be the same

So I release my first montage

Become a rising star

People blame my hit detection

Because of my 5 bar

But it was the first of many, and I buy armorer 10

People blame thorns constantly but

I still make one again

I name it Unexpected

Later I release Life

My personal favorite

Flawlesses left and right

But Blitz has some new problems

And this one’s pretty dumb

Only one map ever fills up

Why is it Caelum?

Remove Caelum and replace it with v2

But it’s still half the things people queue

So many teams the forums explode

So we release an update: team mode

That was my last move

And I leave the Elite Team

People ask me why but

I must follow my dreams

So I guess that marks the end of

My whole 9 month regime

But I’m telling you the game is

Better off than it seems

So that was Blitz

It’s been over a year

Nowadays there’s nothing

But lots of diamond gear

There’s five scouts in each round

It’s getting quite insane

I keep getting janitored but

That’s just the game

im crying thankyou anon nbut also no thanks

[carrotmakar]

I saw someone on twitter talking about Harry naming one of his kids after Stevie and then telling her that they are naming them that and now I am losing my mind at the idea

Stevie

Pairing: Dad!Harry Styles x Mom!Reader

Word Count: 1,152

Summary: Harry wants to name his daughter Stevie, and she has a priceless reaction when you tell her about it.

Warning(s): Dad Harry, Harry being forgetful, Stevie being the queen that she is, nothing serious really, just soe stuff that makes me want to cry in the best way.

A/N: I did not see the tweet that the anon is talking about, but I think the idea was really cute and just had to write something about it :) Idk if this was a request or just talking about it but I thought it would be a cute little blurb (more like fic lol I can’t keep things short for the life of me) idea.

Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist here

Request anything here but make sure to look over my guidelines first!

*

“You want to name our daughter Stevie?” you ask, knowing that Stevie Nicks was his idol. You weren’t as surprised as you probably should be, his drunken nights while the both of you were still in college having let you know that he would ‘enjoy it very much if you let the child be named after Stevie.’

“Well, yeah. But only if you want to, she’s your daughter too.” He gives you a knowing look, letting you know that if you were in any way against the name, the idea would automatically be forgotten. 

“No, I don’t think I’d be against it, Stevie Styles has quite the ring to it, don’t you think?” You smile at him and grab his hands, wanting him to know that you’re not just doing this for him. “Do you think she would freak out?”

He looks confused, “Who?” 

You lightly giggle, thinking that the answer was obvious. “Stevie, honey. Don’t you think that we should tell her that we’re naming our daughter after her?” He grimaces, and you instantly look confused, why wouldn’t he want to tell Stevie? “I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. Could just let her find out through other people.”

“No, no. I want to tell her.” He quickly reassures you.

“Then why the face?” You wonder.

“I- Well, you see. I may have accidentally forgotten to tell her that you’re pregnant.” The look on his face is priceless, he definitely feels guilty for not telling the woman that got the two of you together that you were expecting his child.

“Harry Edward Styles, how do you just forget to tell Stevie Nicks that I’m going to be giving birth in less than a month?” You ask.

“I don’t know, I don’t know. It just slipped my mind, I guess. I’ve been too busy reminding myself that this is real. I haven’t told anyone else either.” You think about it for a moment and realize that he’s right. You’ve been the one telling people that weren’t around you every day. And you have noticed that he’s been a lot more physically affectionate with you lately, which is saying a lot since your relationship was already heavy on the loving touches. Not that it’s a bad thing, but you could definitely understand why he was doing so now that he was actually talking about it.

“She’s going to freak out, we have to call her, H.” He looks a little scared, as if Stevie will really be mad at him, but you know that she’ll just pretend to be and then be really happy for the two of you. Stevie knows what it’s like to be busy.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Let’s call her.” Harry gets up to get his computer, coming back with the line ringing. 

Stevie answers just as he had situated the computer so that both of your faces were on the screen. From the angle that it was at, Stevie wouldn’t be able to see that you were expecting, so Harry would still be able to take her by surprise.

“Hey lovebirds, what’s going on with you guys?” Stevie begins, a huge smile on her face.

“Hey, Stevie!” You say, smile as big as hers glued to your features. Your day always lit up when you talked to her.

“Um, yeah, about that…” Harry begins. You look over at him, shooting him a glare that says ‘yeah, that’s a good way to start it.’

Her face drops almost instantly at his tone, “Harold, what did you do? Did you mess it up? Y/N, please tell me he didn’t do something stupid.”

“Well, he did do something stupid, but we’re fine, I promise.” You assure her, watching the smile slowly return to her face.

“What did you do, Harry?” She asks.

“Um, so I may have forgotten to tell you a little something.” He says, hanging his head.

After a few seconds of him not saying anything she blurts out a, :Well spit it out already, I’m not going to live forever.”

“Shush, Stevie. Yes you are. You’re too iconic to not live forever.” Harry says.

“Stop sweet talking her and just tell her.” You say and he shoots you a glare.

“Um, yeah, so I may have forgotten to tell you that Y/N is pregnant.” Stevie’s eyes grow wide in disbelief.

“You’re expecting?” She seems shocked and you can’t blame her, you were shocked too.

“Yeah, and there’s one more thing.” Harry tries to say, but Stevie’s already talking.

“How far along are you? I want to throw the baby shower.” She looks ecstatic and you can’t help but smile.

“I’m due in a little less than a month.” You admit, watching her jaw drop.

“Okay, so I’ll just have to work faster.” 

“Actually, Stevie, there’s something we wanted to ask you.” Harry interjects.

“And something we wanted to tell you.” You remind him.

“Alright, yeah. What’s up?” She asks.

“Would you want to be the godmother?” Harry asks. You can see the way he’s tensed, scared that his idol will say no to being the godmother of his first child.

“Harry, are you crazy? Of course I would! I’d love to be the godmother!” You can see the tension fall from his body, see him become relaxed again. “What was it that you needed to tell me, though?”

“Oh, um, do you wanna tell her babe?” You ask him.

“You can if you want.” He assures, so you look toward the screen.

“We’re thinking about naming the baby Stevie, if that’s okay with you of course.” You say, looking at her and waiting for a reaction.

“Um, yeah, that’s fine with me.” She’s trying to sound nonchalant, you can tell by the way she waves it off and looks to the side, trying to hide the tears in her eyes.

“Alright, well, um, we’ll let you go, alright? Let you process the whole thing.” Harry suggests, noticing that she’s a little emotional.

“Yeah, yeah. Um, congratulations kids. And, um, thank you. I love you both.” She sniffles, and you see the first tear fall.

“We love you too.” You say, before hitting the button to hang up, wanting to give her time to process everything.

You put the computer to the side, turning over towards Harry, feeling his hands come to rest on your stomach. “I think she’s happy.”

“Yeah, I do too. Never thought I’d make my idol cry like that.” He says.

“It was a good cry, H.” You assure him, even though you know he’s aware of that.

“I know. She’s going to be really good with the baby, huh?” He looks up at you and gives you the most love sick smile you’ve ever seen.

“She’ll hold her once and never want to give her back.” You smile, looking forward to the amazing godmother that Stevie’s going to be.

*

Permanent Taglist: @spideygirl2003, @jackiehollanderr, @scarletsoldierrr, @thewayilookatbacon, @parker-barnes-af, @lost-in-the-stars03, @kisses-holland, @josiemara, @god-knows-what-am-i-doing, @fanficscuziranout, @akila-stilinski, @babebenhardy @write-from-the-heart, @slytherinambitious, @miraclesoflove @tomshufflepuff, @quaksonhehe, 

Harry Styles Taglist: @alwayshave-faith, @hufflepuff-always-and-forever, @sucker-09 @just-chillin-out-in-me-box, @macksmedicine, @wendaiii, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow,

[king-finnigan]

Please do 2 and 49 for the geraskier prompts!

2: Royal AU + 49: Fake Married

Sorry it took me a while, anon! School’s been eating me alive.

***

Geralt’s always loved horses. He loves their elegance, loves their strength, loves their personalities and the way they press their noses against his pockets, looking for treats. 

He’s always loved being around them, he’s always loved brushing them and spoiling them after a hard day of ploughing the fields that surround the farm. 

Today is Wednesday, though, and his dad always forces him to take the day off on Wednesday - he’s not sure why Wednesday, specifically. Vesemir never dignified him with an answer, when he asked.

So, he gets up early in the morning, like he does every day - he’s never been one for sleeping in, anyways - and goes to the stable. He should brush Roach and Beetle, before maybe taking one of them on a ride through the hills - probably Roach, since Beetle is getting a bit older, and she’s never really been the adventurous type. He doesn’t blame her of course, after all the hard work she does day in day out, she deserves to stand around and do nothing all day if she wants to.

He walks out of the cottage, the late spring mist swirling around his feet as he walks through the orchard. He stops by one of the trees, reaching up to pick three slightly-too-ripe apples that would never make it to the market, before he continues walking to the stables. 

“Mornin’,” he greets Beetle, feeding her one of the apples. She munches on it happily, her big, brown eyes looking at him intently. He frowns a bit. She never looks at him like that. He shrugs it off, walking to the next stable, where Roach is. “And good morning to you,” he mutters, giving her the second apple, putting the third one in his pocket for later. 

Roach eats it, but butts him with her nose immediately after, shaking her head when he looks at her curiously. He walks back to the door, taking a brush off one of the hooks on the wall as he talks: “Something the matter, girls? You two seem a bit agitated.”

The horses, of course, don’t reply. He’s always loved them for that.

“Alright,” he mutters, a she turns back around. “Who first?” Roach neighs, shaking her head again. “Alright, alright. Impatient today, aren’t we?” he says, chuckling a bit as he opens the door to her box, stepping inside.

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees someone huddled in the corner.

“What the hell?” He’s only aware of the fact that he’s dropped the brush when he hears it clatter on the floor.

Blue eyes shine up at him, red-rimmed, half-covered in a mess of brown curls. He steps forward, towards the young man curled up in the corner, hands balling by his side. He doesn’t care if he gets attacked, he can defend himself, he only cares about the horses. The stranger is so close to Roach’s hind leg, and if he were to break it, Geralt would have to put Roach down - and he definitely does not want to lose his best friend.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

The young man sniffles, wiping his face on his dirty sleeve. His clothes look fancy enough, like they cost a lot of money, but they’re all torn and bloodied, seemingly from a gash in the man’s forehead, and the scratches on his cheeks and hands. 

“Sorry,” the stranger whispers, “it was cold last night, and I had nowhere else to go.”

“Why not?”

“What?”

Geralt sighs, crossing his arms in front of him. This is his only fucking day off in the week, he doesn’t have time to question the stranger that’s broken into his stable. “Why’d you have nowhere else to go?”

The stranger rubs his reddened eyes again, before clasping his hands around his stomach - Geralt can hear it growling from here. “Ran away.”

Geralt sighs again, sitting down on the ground. “Why?”

“It was...” the young man clears his throat “it was... a prison.”

Geralt clenches his fists. “You escaped from prison?” He plants his hands on the ground, ready to get up and get on Roach to find the nearest palace guard - if this man is a criminal, then Geralt does not want to be caught red-handed harbouring him, even if he didn’t really consent to it.

“Nonono!” The young man reaches forward, trying to stop Geralt. “Not literally. I mean- I uh...” He rubs the back of his neck, frowning. “Shit. I’m so sorry, I thought I would be able to leave before you found me, I didn’t know you’d be getting up so early.” He waits for an answer, but Geralt merely purses his lips, jaw clenched.

The young man rubs the back of his neck again. “My dad, he uh... he’s a bit... very... incredibly overbearing. He wants to control my life, and I don’t want that. So I ran away.”

The young man’s stomach growls again, and the delicate features scrunch up in pain. Geralt sighs, and takes the last apple out of his pocket, the one he intended on eating himself, and rolls it towards the other man. 

Wide, blue eyes look at him in wonder and gratitude, as nimble fingers reach for the fruit. “Thank you, uh...”

“Geralt.”

“Thank you, Geralt.” He’s about to take a bite, when he stops himself. “I’m uh... Jaskier, by the way.” He bites into the fruit, face relaxing as he sighs deeply, a soft hum at the back of his throat.

“You’re welcome, Uh-Jaskier.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes and smiles at him, cheeks stuffed with apple. Geralt can’t help but smile back. Jaskier may be strange, and kind of off-putting, familiar in a way that Geralt feels like he should know the man, but not in a personal way, and he may look like a bit of a poncy prick, with his fancy clothes and neatly cut hair, but Geralt can also see the relief in those blue eyes, see the weight of the world lift off those thin shoulders.

And maybe he feels a little bad, sure. And maybe he decides not to chase Jaskier away the first chance he gets. But he’s definitely chasing the young man away the second chance he gets.

“So, Geralt,” Jaskier says, muffled through the bits of apple, “do you always talk to horses?”

Geralt frowns, shrugging. “I suppose so. Do you always run through the woods like a madman?”

Jaskier frowns, indignant look on those delicate features. “What makes you think I was running like a madman?”

Geralt looks him up and down, in a way that’s clearly saying: Did you even look at yourself? “You’re covered in scratches and bruises and your clothes are ripped. Either you were behaving like an idiot, or you got beaten up.” It’s silent for half a beat. “Though those two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Jaskier gasps at him, nimble fingers on his chest, mouth agape. “How dare you. I’ll let you know I’m-” He cuts himself up, his finger hanging in the air between them.

Geralt pulls his eyebrows up. “You’re what?”

The young man shakes his head. “Nothing,” he mumbles.

Geralt shrugs again, turning around when he hears the thunder of hooves on the dirt, outside. A distant shout: “Julian! Julian Alfred Pankratz!”

Geralt frowns, shaking his head lightly, as he turns back to Jaskier, who’s blushing from his slender neck to his messy hair. “Wait,” he mutters, “are you Julian? Are they calling out for you?”

Jaskier looks at him, wide, blue eyes guilty and sad, so incredibly sad. 

“What’s this noise all about?” He hears Vesemir shout in the distance, probably standing in the doorway to the cottage.

Julian Alfred Pankratz. He’s heard that name before. 

He squints his eyes, raking through his memory. Oh no. It makes sense now. The clumsiness in the woods, the fancy clothing, the familiar-but-not-that-familiar face. Julian Alfred Pankratz. The crown prince of Kaedwen.

He stands up abruptly, heading for the door. He’s not going to get himself and his dad arrested for harboring a runaway prince, for the love of the gods.

“Wait!” Jaskier calls behind him, still on the floor, and for some reason, Geralt does stop. He doesn’t turn back, though, and simply waits for Jaskier’s explanation.

“He was gonna marry me off. My dad. To some noble lady from Nazair. I don’t wanna marry a noble lady from Nazair.”

Geralt sighs, rolling his eyes. “I completely understand. Your life must be so hard.”

He can hear Jaskier sniffle behind him, probably crying again. “I know you don’t understand. I wouldn’t, either. I mean, she’s pretty and she’s nice and she’s a noble lady from Nazair. But-” it’s quiet for a second or two, as the palace guards keep shouting the prince’s name, outside, “but my dad doesn’t understand that I don’t wanna marry a lady.”

Geralt looks over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t wanna marry a lady,” Jaskier whispers again, tears in his eyes, blush creeping up his neck, hands trembling in front of him as he stares at the floor. “He doesn’t approve.”

“Oh.” Geralt thinks for a second, lets Roach bump his shoulder with her nose, lets her snort against his frown. “And if you go back now, you have to marry her?”

Jaskier nods, a single tear rolling down his cheek. 

“And if you were already married? He can’t break the sanctity of marriage, once it’s completed.”

Jaskier looks up at that, frowning at him. “I guess, but I don’t know anyone who’s willing to marry me right here and now.”

Geralt sighs, and looks at Roach, who looks right back at him. He can’t believe he’s gonna do this. 

He turns around, kneeling in the straw, as the footsteps of the guards approach the stable. It’s only minutes until they find Jaskier. 

Geralt takes a piece of straw, taking Jaskier’s left hand, tying the straw around his finger. He holds his hand out. “You do the same.” Jaskier does as he’s told, eyes confused but realization slowly dawning, hands trembling.

“But- the ritual of getting married takes longer, this isn’t marrying, we’re not-”

“Yes, I know that,” Geralt hisses impatiently, then beckons to the door with his head, “but they don’t know that. We just have to keep pretending.”

He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, doesn’t know why he’s basically about to throw his whole life at the farm away for a life at the court, but he feels bad for Jaskier, feels the same anger and frustration and sadness mirrored in himself about not being understood, not being accepted for who you love.

He remembers a summer love, long ago. He remembers Vesemir chasing him away.

“This is just temporary, okay? Just until you find someone you actually love, and then you can marry him and reveal that this was all fake, alright?”

Jaskier’s finally finished tying the straw around his fingers, but his hands clasp Geralt’s before he can move away. “Thank you,” he whispers, and Geralt loses a little piece of himself in those ocean eyes.

He shakes the sudden dizziness away, and pulls Jaskier up, taking his hand, leading him outside.

Immediately, they’re surrounded by guards, their swords aimed at Geralt’s chest. He swallows thickly. “Let the prince go!” One of the guards says, the point of his blade pushing into the fabric of Geralt’s shirt.

“No!” Jaskier shouts, standing between them, clasping Geralt’s hand in his. “Don’t, McKinley. He’s-” his voice catches in his throat “he’s my husband?” he whispers.

McKinley takes a step back. “What?”

Jaskier smiles hesitantly, holding up his hand with the piece of straw around his finger, then holds Geralt’s hand up, showing the matching makeshift ring. “I got married?”

McKinley pales. “Oh, gods, Julian, I don’t want to be the one to tell your father about this.”

Jaskier shrugs. “It’s okay, I’ll explain, don’t worry about it.”

Geralt’s eyes are drawn by Vesemir, standing outside the semi-circle of guards, looking just as confused as they are. “Married?” he mouths at Geralt.

“Explain later.” Geralt mouths back.

Oh, gods, he thinks to himself, as the guards bow to him and Jaskier, one by one, muttering ‘our royal highnesses’. What have I gotten myself into?

[fandom-necromancer]

One Push Too Many – alternate ending

This was prompted by an amazing anon! I hope you enjoy some more angst!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warnings: attempted suicide, person in coma) [original version]

Nines knew something was going on as he had seen Gavin walk past the breakroom. They had made eye contact and he knew the human well enough by now to know something wasn’t right. His programming didn’t hand him any information about what that dull look in his eyes could have been, but his tactical analytics told him the human had no reason to just pass the breakroom without getting anything for himself. His eyes lingered a bit too long on the man and Tina noticed. She looked to the entrance, but Gavin had already vanished. ‘Everything alright?’, she asked concerned and just a bit confused. ‘Yeah…’, Nines lied, not quite sure if it was a lie at all. ‘Yes, I think so. I will heed your advice and try to be patient with him. Thank you.’

He took his leave from them, hoping to have a word with Reed, but of course, Connor intercepted him asking him about his latest case and he was at work after all… He only managed to get back to their desks after a few hours of discussing evidence with the other android. Gavin seemed to be deep in thoughts and Nines didn’t know whether or not it was appropriate to disrupt him as he could be following some wild gut feelings humans were so well known for. So he kept his mouth shut and hoped for a better moment to address the issue. He waited far too long realising that the human was working overtime. Gavin always had been the first to arrive and leave. Not that he wasn’t diligent or did some overtime if a case needed it, but they hadn’t anything to work on at the moment as they still waited for a warrant for some abandoned warehouse that was still owned by someone who fled the city during the revolution. Why was he staying so-

The Detective had suddenly stood up from his chair and was walking off to the Captain’s office. So, Nines’ suspicions had been confirmed: Gavin’s behaviour had been off the whole day and this was only one more little detail that added to Nines’ pile of evidence. He tried to watch them talking inside the office to at least know what they were talking about, but soon enough, Fowler gave Reed the courtesy to let the glass frost up.

He was anxiously waiting for the man to come back out and was surprised to see him without his badge and utility belt. He hadn’t… But Gavin was hurrying to sweep his few belongings into a box. He had to stand up and at least say something, anything that would make the man explain himself, but his programming was just a blank slate offering him nothing to say. Maybe he would just have to use force? His tactical routines told him intercepting the man would work no matter how much he struggled against it and maybe he would tell him himself then. But that would be using bodily force against his partner. Halfway standing up he thought that maybe, that wasn’t the best plan. He still earned a deprecating look from Gavin, before the Detective – likely former Detective by now - left the building.

Nines didn’t know what to do. He just knew that the human had left after he had seen him with his friends that spent way more time with himself now than with Gavin. That had to be connected in some way and even if it wasn’t, better to be safe than sorry. He thought about leaving too and ordering a taxi to Gavin’s home, but decided otherwise as he saw Tina stand up from her desk grabbing her purse and jacket. A human always knew better than he did what to do and say in any situation. ‘Tina?’, he asked for her attention walking towards her. ‘Would you mind taking me with you and stopping at Reed’s house? He just quit and I want to make sure he’s alright. I could call a taxi, but you can read social situations a lot better.’ ‘Hmm? Yeah, Me and Chris wanted to go to a- wait. Gavin quit?’ Nines nodded. ‘Shit, we have to go immediately!’

-

When they arrived at Gavin’s home, the light was on, but no one answered the doorbell. Tina had knocked on the door, screaming at Gavin to open it, but one shared concerned look later, Nines decided to go investigate. He jogged around the house and looked through the windows. Living Room. Bedroom. Kitchen. He stopped at the window frozen in place as his scan returned various information he really didn’t need. He threw one powerful punch at the window, shattering it, before jumping through it and landing with a perfect roll. He immediately dove for the figure on the ground.

Gavin was lying on his side, likely fallen from the chair that had toppled over. He was lying in a pool of blood that was still streaming from a gunshot wound to the head. Nines quickly took his hand in his and felt for a heartbeat. ‘Tina! Get in here and help me get the door open. I called an ambulance already, but every second counts. We need to get him out of here!’

The paramedics arrived in the course of a few minutes, lifting Gavin on a stretcher and carrying him away. Tina ushered Nines to go with them, but Nines couldn’t. He was responsible for this. He was at fault for this. He couldn’t. And in the heat of the moment Tina just took his word and jumped inside the ambulance as the door closed.

-

Gavin was stable. He was in a coma and no one knew when or if he would wake up again. Severe trauma to the head from the attempted suicide attempt was the diagnose. Nines didn’t visit him. In fact he hadn’t left the house since he had smashed the glass and discovered Gavin. He hadn’t talked to anyone, had stopped going to work and the fact that he knew Gavin’s status was only thanks to him hacking into the hospital’s systems and checking himself. He couldn’t face the man. Even if he was unconscious and wouldn’t remember a thing. He couldn’t.

The doorbell rang. Nines didn’t move. There was an angry knock only seconds later: ‘RK900, you will open this door, or I’ll smash your windows!’ Tina. He stood up to open the door looking into the face of the furious woman. ‘Finally. Now get your ass over here!’ Nines frowned at the futile attempt of pulling him outside. ‘Why?’, he asked. ‘This isn’t your fucking fault!’ ‘It is’, Nines disagreed. ‘When I saw him on the ground a lot of things suddenly made sense. I have gravely misunderstood something. I was an idiot listening to Connor! Nagging him because of his family didn’t make him suddenly like me, he got quieter because I was bullying him! He didn’t answer because I was hurting him! And I took his friends from him with that. He was alone and the only thing in his life that kept him going, his work, I made unbearable! And now he’s dead because of that!’ Tina shook her head. ‘He isn’t dead yet, Nines. There is still hope he will wake up.’ ‘Just because it is possible doesn’t mean it will happen’, Nines held against it. ‘He is in this situation now and I am at fault for it.’

Tina sighed. ‘Fine. Maybe you are at fault for this. But you couldn’t have known what your actions lead to. You don’t have the program for it. Of course, things could have gone better, but it isn’t you alone who is to blame for it. Maybe I should have talked to him. Me and Chris should have talked with him instead of simply ghosting him. If anything, we are all equally blind and at fault.’ ‘I don’t want to see him’, Nines whispered lowly. ‘I don’t have it in me to see him again after what I did to him.’ ‘I understand’, Tina nodded. ‘I’ll leave you alone then. Just please, remember. Loosing one person is enough already. Maybe talking to him will help you cope with the guilt. Try to go easy on yourself.’

-

Nines did go to the hospital in the end. It took a few more days and a lot of coaxing from Tina, but he finally managed to call a taxi and visit Gavin. He laid on a bed in a dimmed room hooked up to all sorts of machinery keeping him alive. His head was wrapped in tight bandages, but otherwise he looked fine. There was a sense of calmness in his features and it nearly hurt to see him like this. There was no reason for him to be this relaxed. Not when he was practically dead. Nines pulled a rolling chair to the bed and sat down, watching the man’s chest lift and sink slowly and regularly. He watched his closed eyelids that looked like they could open any moment. He sighed and lifted his hand but thought otherwise and let it drop again. It wasn’t right for him to touch the man he had brought only pain.

‘I’m sorry, Gavin’, he whispered finally. It was hard to find the right words, but once he had begun, he couldn’t stop the rest of them. ‘I’m so, so sorry, Gavin. I didn’t know what I was doing, I followed advice and ended up doing everything wrong. It’s my fault you are like this now and I don’t know how to help you. It is too late already and I… I… I don’t know. I shouldn’t have treated you like I had. I shouldn’t have tried to be something I am not. I should have remained the machine that I am. Maybe you wouldn’t like me then either, but at least you would be alive and running after criminals. I’m sorry. It wasn’t my place to make fun of your life. It wasn’t my place to be your partner. And it sure as hell isn’t my place to apologise to you now. I should have stopped while it still mattered. It won’t change anything now. It doesn’t mean a fucking thing!’ Nines hadn’t realised he was crying, until a hand from behind him reached out to hand him a handkerchief.

Nines stared at it in confusion, before taking it reluctantly and wiping away the tears. ‘Maybe it does mean a fucking thing’, the other person in the room said and Nines looked up to see who it was. Elijah Kamski himself stared back at him, a lopsided sorry smile on his face. ‘I mean, I hope so, I came to do the same thing, only…’ he looked up and counted something with his fingers. ‘Only about twenty years too late.’ ‘You are his brother’, Nines commented. ‘Yes. I am. And you? Someone from work I guess?’ ‘Yes. His… his former partner.’ Elijah huffed. ‘And you drove him to this? I have to say, even his family never managed that.’ ‘This is nothing to joke about!’, Nines hissed, half standing up again. ‘I know!’, Elijah said, holding up his hands to calm Nines. ‘I just… Well, I and my parents, we weren’t the nicest family. My parents valued me higher than him, I repeated their words to him, knowing no better at the time. He was… in a really bad place as he ran away. I was happy he found his place with the police, leading his own life. But at the same time the guilt that I was the one driving him away, never left me. I guess you were only the last drop that made him react that way.’

‘Then we are both too late’, Nines sighed. ‘We wronged him and can’t even apologise, let alone help him.’ ‘People always say that persons in a coma can hear what’s happening around them. Maybe he knows we are sorry.’ ‘Or that is just something they say to reassure the affiliated people and take a burden off of them’, Nines deadpanned. ‘Maybe’, Elijah shrugged. ‘Does it work for you?’ ‘Not really.’ ‘Then why would they tell it?’ Elijah took Gavin’s hand and squeezed it once, keeping an eye on the monitors. Then he sighed and scratched the back of his head.

‘Hey, err… Should we go out and… talk? I would like to know a bit about his life now. And I can only guess you have a few questions as well? Maybe that will help.’ Nines swallowed, but nodded, standing up and taking the man laying before him in one last time. ‘Yes. Maybe that will help.’

Elijah and Nines quietly left the room as if the silence inside had to be kept at all costs. They opened the door and light fell inside from the hallway. Nines gently closed it behind him and followed Gavin’s brother towards the exit of the wing.

The door had fallen shot and their footsteps had faded into silence. Only then the monitor supervising Gavin showed activity.

[gay-salt-amber]

Can we get a full story on Georgi and Jeans relationship? I think its really cute from the information you gave us and I wanna know more! - :D anon

Yes I sure can! Hope you like it :D

Love On The Ice

The ice rink. A figure skaters home away from home. Some go to the ice for training, some go there for fun, some go there to cry, some go there to rage, and some go there for love. This is no different for a 25 year old French skater named Jean Douce.

Jean pov-

Walking to the rink was something I always enjoy. Sure, my bag was kinda heavy at times and the walk may be long but it gave my legs some practice moving before I step foot onto the ice tonight. Todays competition was being held at my home rink in France, which is quite nerve racking, but I can't let that show. My coach said that this may be my chance to make it to a grand prix final, but I'm not so sure. We'll see when I get there I guess. As long as I try my best, then we'll be just fine.

When I finally made it to the rink, I looked up the sign 'Lilac Ice Rink' gave me a sign of comfort. I felt at home, I felt comfortable, I felt relaxed again. I opened the door gently before walking in, waving to the blonde behind the front desk, Ms. Joy, the woman who owned the place and someone I've known since I was little.

"Good luck out there!" She said with a smile

I gave a simple nod and went to the locker room to change, I didn't here anything before I entered, making me think not many people were there, 'Weird, I guess I am kind of early though.' I opened the door and sat my stuff down on the bench I looked over to see a face I hadn't seen before. The person had a pointy hair style, all of his hair was pointed infront of him, strange hair style but not bad. He was wearing a jacket over what I assumed was the outfit he was skating in tonight. I tried to read his jacket but the back of the chair covered it and I couldn't recognize the logo, curious, I walked up to say hi to him.

"Hi!" I greeted,

He put down what I recognized was blush and looked at me, "Hello, who are you?" I grabbed a chair, pulling it over and sitting down next to him, "I'm Jean."

"Are you skating tonight?" The black haired man asked

"Yes, I'm on the French team! What about you?"

"I'm on the Russian team."

"Ooo! Cool! What's your name?"

"Georgi."

I got up and held out my hand, "Well Georgi, I hope we get along."

He scoffed and shook my hand, "Good luck."

I smiled and walked back over to my bag and got out my outfit for the night, when I was putting it on, everything was fine until I remembered that it tied in the back. Unlike some people I know, I can't reach that far back. I turned my head and saw that Georgi was still here, I'll just ask him for help.

"Hey! Georgi!"

He turned around, "Hm?"

"Can you," I pointed to the ties, "Tie this for me?"

He rose to his feet and walked over, "Sure, but don't blame me if it looks awful."

I laughed, "Heh, I think it'll look fine, I mean, if you can make your face look so pretty, you can probably tie a knot pretty well too."

Georgi paused for a moment before going back to tying the knot, "Don't say stuff like that."

"Awh cmon! Its just a compliment!"

The cloth on my back tightened and the feeling of hands on his back left, "There its tied."

"Thanks!"

He grabbed his bag, waved and exited the locker room, the door slamming behind him.

'I think we'll get along well.'

A while later, Georgi pov-

I stood, leaning on the wall of the rink, deep in thought. Who was that Jean boy? All I know is that hes a skater from France. I want to know more about him, hes quite a nice boy and I think we'd get along well. I glanced over to where he was getting some last minute practice. His olive eyes sparkled as bright as a star, his skating wasn't the best I have ever seen by far but the passion he had was as obvious as the blue sky.

The only thing I could keep my eyes on was the cute brown haired boy, I spaced out from all of reality and I wouldn't have it any other way...

"Oi! Georgi! I'm talking to you!"

I turned to the voice to see coach Yakov behind me, "Oh sorry."

I cleared my throat before speaking, "Do you know anything about Jean? The boy over there?" I said, pointing to him.

"Ah, that's Jean Douce, hes a French skater."

"Well I know that much, anything else?"

"Well hes quite the amateur, I heard from his coach that hes only been to the second part of a figure skating contest once."

"Ah, I wonder why.."

"I heard he is married and has a kid so that's probably why, its hard to balance a family life and skating, anyone can tell you that."

Those words felt like a jab to the heart, "Oh.."

"Your going on last by the way, I wouldn't have it that way normally but, cant argue with the organizers."

I nodded and walked over to the bench to sit, grabbing my water-bottle from my side and taking a sip. While I was drinking I stole a glimpse at Jean who was now panting, head hanging down as he sat about 2 benches away from me. Why the world doesn't he have water? I sighed, 'Do I have to do everything for this boy now?' Wait that doesn't sound too bad.. I glanced at my water bottle which was still practically full and headed over to him.

I sat down by him, which caused him to instantly look over, "O-oh hi."

With a nod, I held my water-bottle out infront of him, "Here, I saw you didn't have one but your panting like a fucking dog so I figured you'd want some."

He grabbed it, his hand brushing against mine causing my heart rate to go up higher then what I am fairly certain is healthy. He smiled brightly, it was adorable and when I saw that on his face, I knew this was what they call love at first sight.

"So, I heard your married?" "Yes. I have a wife named Salem."

I was curious, I want to know more about her, "What's she like?"

"Heh, not great lately.."

"Mind telling me why?"

"She just doesn't approve of the fact that I do figure skating full time she thinks it wont make good money which is-"

"Bullshit" "Bullshit" We said in unison, we both let out a chuckle and Jean continued,

"Because of that I cant get as much practice in because I cant get the time away from her nagging to get out to the rink."

I looked at him, thinking, "I think I have an idea."

"What is it?"

"I'll help you with your routine."

His eyes widened at my words, "Don't you need to practice too?"

"I memorize my routines quite well, I think i'll be fine with coaching you."

"I have a coach already y'know?"

I scoffed, "Yeah and from what I saw she has no fucking idea what she's doing."

"I mean.. You're not wrong."

I stood and held out my hand, "So get up and lets head to the ice."

Jean grinned, putting my water-bottle down and grabbing my hand, "Alright!"

After the competition Jean pov-

Well.. I didn't make the cut, I guess I was right, heh. My score was 221, I was about 4 points behind the 3rd place winner who was a boy from America named Leo de la Iglesia. While I was getting changed in the locker room, Georgi was sitting down removing his makeup

"You're not very chatty.." He stated

"Heh, I guess I'm just upset about losing.. Good job on getting 2nd though!"

"For what its worth, I think you should have gotten third, Leo failed that one double axal so he shouldn't have had 225 points, you should have scored higher too, you landed everything."

I let out a dry chuckle, "Still my jumps weren't nearly as good."

"Still."

"Thanks, Georgi."

I stuffed my stuff into my bag and was about to leave when I felt a tap on my shoulder, "Hm? Did you need something?"

"Can I have your number?"

"Sure!"

He handed me his phone, I typed in my number and put in a contact name. "See you later, fée endormie" (Sleeping fairy)

Georgi's face looked as red as a cherry, his words were stammered too, "Y-yeah you too.."

I waved, closing the door to the locker room behind me. The walk back to the hotel was long, I wanted to be outside longer so I could think. Think about the cute Russian boy I met just a few minutes prior. Then I started to ask myself, 'This is so.. Wrong, what's wrong with me.. I am a married man, I shouldn't think things like this.' I sighed, letting those thoughts die. Those thoughts were replaced with more happy ones about Georgi and how the day went, 'Yeah.. we can think about the future later, day-dreaming never hurt anyone, right?'

About a month later-

I was relaxed on my bed. my wife was out at work and finishing up some school work. I am still going through collage since I had dropped out for a few years to help raise Akaashi. But now hes 17 and a third year at Fukurōdani Academy, a school here in Japan which my wife is the superintendent of. The work was nothing bad, I was about to type my last sentence before heading to the ice rink for practice when my phone buzzed with a message from Georgi

---------

Georgi: Hey, this may be sudden, but can you open your door?

Jean: Uhhh why?

Georgi: Cuz I'm outside and its cold!

Jean: Ok! I'm on my way!

---------

I ran faster then I ever had down the stairs, I thought I was going to fall and land on my face but luckily I didn't. I unlocked the door and opened it, revealing Georgi in a black jacket with matching pants. His hair was down, I have seen him with his hair down a lot but it was so cute that I couldn't help but blush at the sight.

"So what are you doing here?"

"I was in Japan and wanted to see you, simple as that."

A smile grew onto my face and we walked to my room where we sat on my bed, he read a book while I finished that last sentence of my paper, once I was done I turned to him and asked,

"Hey can you look over my essay for me?"

"Sure, give me the laptop."

I nodded and passed my laptop to him. It was a short paper but he seemed to take his time, I watched him add punctuation and such. He glanced at the citations at the bottom,

"Hey I think you forgot a citation." He said,

"Oh? I did? For what?"

"The County Tribune one, you used it in paragraph 4 right?"

"Oooh! I had an issue with that one! I tried to get the information but when I clicked the link I used, the domain was down, I just put down the article title and access date since my professor said that was fine."

"Oh, gotcha. But other then that I would say just fix some words, you used 'according to' with your textual evidence a lot so I would say change that."

"Alright, thanks! You sure know your stuff!"

"Yeah, I did really well in Language arts and Writing classes back when I was in school."

"Cool! I guess I'll have to ask for your help more~" I cooed

"Pfft, have fun with that." He snickered as he went back to his book

I kept looking for more words but I kept catching myself getting distracted, "Hey, what do you-"

Before I could say anything else I felt something on my neck, I moved my eyes down to the feeling and saw Georgi, biting my neck.

"G-Georgi?"

He pulled back instantly and scooted about a foot back, "Oh my god! I am so, so, so sorry!"

I smirked, "Do it again, Georgi."

"Isn't your wife going to be home soon?"

"She texted me earlier, she's going to a meeting in Paris, she'll be away for the next few days."

"And what about Ak-"

"Are you going to keep asking questions or are you going to do it again?"

The Russian boy let out a 'heh' and scooted forward, continuing what he was doing before. I smirked and didn't react, finishing up the paper. It was only about 2 minutes later when I heard a sad 'humph'

The mouth released my neck for a moment, "Hey.. Pay attention to me."

I let out a chuckle, turned off my laptop and put it on a side table. I turned around to face Georgi and put my arms around his waist, "There, I'm all yours now."

He placed a kiss on my lips, "Good."

Georgi's lips locked back on mine hungrily. This was the thing I wanted for months, no, this is the type of thing I've wanted my whole life and I never knew it before. God, please let this last forever.

He crawled closer to close the distance and put his knee between my legs, the feeling of having something to rub felt amazing and it caused me to whimper. The moment those whimpers became loud enough for Georgi to hear, I was pinned down with my hands above my head. He dipped his head down to whisper into my ear, "May I, my sweet baby prince?" Those words sent a shiver up my spine, "Yes, please.."

---Timeskip cuz its late and I am not awake enough to write smut--

"That was so good.." I said, panting while laying on Georgi's chest

The Russian skater let out a snort and ran his hands through my hair, "Was it now? Or do you just moan for more whenever you feel like it?"

"Heh."

"I love you." I whispered, kissing him on the cheek.

"I love you too baby."

I cuddled into his chest with a big grin, "Good." "Hey, question.."

"Hm?" I looked up at him, my chin still resting on his chest,

"How are we dealing with your wife? Y'know since you're my lover now."

"Meh, I'll think about that later. Now, let me sleep, you're really comfy."

"Heh sure."

"Also, leave your hair down more, its adorable."

"Sure, whatever you want dear."

"Okay, sleep soon, k?"

"K."

---Aaand its over! Thx for the ask!---