#When will I ever be able to make something in less than 5 hours that isn't a shitpost or traditional drawing </3

[photon-crest-art]

Tmw you're just trying to do your job but then all these Toons who don't even try to fight you just start following you around jumping up and down and shouting your name like they're in some sort of trance.

The Toons, from top left to bottom right:

Masked bat: Masker Raid, belongs to @booboothundergadget

Purple bat with jester collar: Loopy Lancelot, belong to me

Brown koala: Euca "Chelly" Lyptus, belongs to @revvywevvy (Who also took the background screenshot; thanks for that!)

Bat facing away from the camera: Violet Honeybee, belongs to @cipherbunz

[abiatackerman]

Levi Ackerman as a BOYFRIEND

Warnings: A little description of sex(NSFW)

1. He'll make sure you take shower everyday and clean yourself properly.... This will be his first priority.

2. He won't say romantic things to you nor he'll be clingy we all know Levi's not like that. But he'll make sure to make you a cup of tea everyday.

3. Once in a while he'll visit your room and will force you to organise and clean it. He hates messes...

4. No matter how busy he's... He'll always try to make up some time for you. It's not like he'll take you on a romantic date or something... He'll just make up some time so that you two will be able to spend some time alone on the roof, gazing at the stars while making small talks.

5. He'll make sure you train properly everyday. You might think he's being tough with you but it's for you to become stronger because he doesn't wanna lose you... Never. He'll even request Erwin to put you in the safe position or in his squad during the expeditions.

6. He'll make sure you're in good health. That you're eating properly three times a day or that you're getting enough sleep and not doing something unhealthy which may create some chances of you getting sick.

7. Even if you accidentally get sick, he'll definitely take care of you. No matter how much you protest, he'll stay by your side (if he doesn't have more important works to do) 24 hours if possible. He'll even do the paperwork in your room so that he'll be able to keep an eye on you.

8. He'll be the most loyal boyfriend you've ever seen. No matter how many beautiful or sexy women would try to seduce him, he'll never fall for them. He's love for you is real and he'll just look at those annoying ladies with disgust and will shove them off with his best glares or by being rude to them.

9. He'll never show you that he's jealous. He never knew what jealousy is until he started to feel some weird anger and possessiveness whenever he would see you to talk to another charming cadet and laugh at them. He won't say anything to you he'll just have a small talk with those cadets who he'll think are trying to make a move on you. Otherwise if he's gonna feel nothing's wrong, he'll leave the matter.

10. He never liked sex. For him it's a messy and filthy thing. And since you always act like a brat after it and refuse to clean all the mess you two make, he gets more pissed. But whenever he's inside you while you're smiling up at him moaning his name... For him it feels like heaven, a feeling he never felt before. Though you both don't get enough time to make love, whenever you get needy he'll manage time for both of you. He'll always make sure you're comfortable while making love and will instinctively whisper "I love you" while doing it.

11. He was never good with his words or feelings. He knows he can't express his love for you properly with words and emotions. So he'll try to show how much he loves you by doing little things. Like sometimes buying you books or foods or whichever you like... Sometimes helping you with cleaning... Helping you to organise your room, clothes and other things... Helping you with your paperwork... Sometimes checking up on you to see if everything's ok... Using less curse and rude words when he's with you... Sometimes even trying to smile whole heartily when he's with you.

12. He's a good listener rather than a speaker. He doesn't love to talk so he'll just let you speak and listen to you. Sometimes he'll try to make some snarky remarks just to make you laugh and to see your smile.

13. Whenever you'll act bratty and won't listen to him he'll just sigh, throwing you over his shoulder he'll bring you to his office to give you some punishment. Starting by slapping your ass it'll depend on you where the punishment will end. It may end by making a mess due to having a steamy sex or just by him patting your head when you'll finally agree with his terms. Totally depends on you, he'll just follow your mood.

14. He'll sometimes will hint to you that he'll love to spend his whole life with you. Like asking you some questions like do you like children? What's your plan after the war is over? He'll never directly say that he wants to marry you and start a family with you so badly. Since a serious war is going on he'll just hope you two will be alive and will see the end of it... And then you both will get married and lead a happy life with a bunch of kids you two will make.

15. He'll try to protect you with his life. He'll take care of anything or anyone which he'll think is threatening to you. He'll always have your back and will hold you close when you're scared. He'll try his best to always keep you unharmed... No matter what....

[apomaro-mellow]

I wanted to write church fucking again but it turned more into church love-making

Steve was long past caring if anyone heard them. The only thing on his mind was taking Eddie deeper and deeper. This place was built with Eddie's money anyway. And it wasn't really a building to practice any religion known to man. As Eddie had put it, the first and only thing being worshipped here was them and their love.

And to Steve there was honestly nothing more sacred.

-------------------

"Do we really need to do the separation thing?", Eddie asked. He didn't whine. He definitely wasn't whining as Steve packed his bag.

"We're only doing like 5 traditional things for our wedding and this is one of them", Steve said, zipping up a duffel bag.

He gave Eddie a kiss on the lips, one that was too short considering he wouldn't even be seeing him for another twenty-four hours, let alone kiss him again. He chased after Steve's lips only to have his beloved pull back.

"You're going to make me late. Robin's already honked once", Steve said.

"Mmm, she can come up and rip you from my arms if she wants you so bad", Eddie said, pulling Steve into his hold and falling back against the bed.

"You know she will. And she'll have the spray bottle and everything", Steve warned, but doing nothing to stop Eddie from groping his behind.

Steve was able to break away before Robin got pushed to that point and leave to stay at her place until the wedding. Eddie let out a sigh that was equal parts dreamy and forlorn. He did his best to keep his mind off of not being around Steve and his friends had the ultimate bachelor party planned. But he couldn't help but think at times how much nicer it would be with his Stevie there.

"Technically we're both bachelors, so we could've had the same party", Eddie reasoned.

The others wouldn't hear it and kept him sufficiently busy until they all passed out around 3 am. At 5 am, Eddie woke up walked over to the church. He took out his key and unlocked the door. Inside was completely empty. But Eddie had saw to the renovations himself to make sure it was up to par.

He sat in the first pew and let out a sigh. In just a few hours, he and Steve would be standing in front of this altar, vowing themselves to each other. Eddie would have done it anywhere, the courthouse, a friend's backyard, their sacred bedroom. But Steve's upbringing wouldn't allow him anything less than a church. Thankfully, Eddie had enough 'fuck-you' money to find an abandoned one and have it built back up just for the two of them. And perhaps any other queer that wanted an unofficial ceremony.

Eddie himself rarely looked to Jesus for answers and was just about to ask what he was even doing here when the doors opened again. And who should walk through it but the answers to any question he ever had.

"Eddie? What are you doing here?"

"Awaiting salvation. And here you are", Eddie smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"Searching for...well, for you, I guess", Steve said as he walked down the aisle and took a seat in the same pew as Eddie. But at a distance for polite friends and not two men who were getting married in a few hours and already knew each others bodies.

"Why are you all the way over there?", Eddie smirked. "You think we need a chaperone or something."

"I came to get a moment of peace and quiet before the storm today is going to be", Steve said. "And you are anything but peaceful and quiet."

"You just said you were searching for me?"

"I meant that sometimes searching for one thing can bring you another." Steve smiled as he shook his head a little, a memory coming back to him. "My mom always said 'when you ask God for patience, he doesn't give you patience. He gives you a situation where you need to be patient'."

"You sure your mom wasn't praying to a genie? Or a monkey's paw?"

"I'm just saying that I came to a church for peace and instead, I see my fiance."

Eddie scooted closer to Steve. "Sounds to me like His Mighty Heavenliness is throwing down a challenge. Can you be quiet around me Steve?"

Steve knew he couldn't. And Eddie knew he couldn't. Nor would his fiance's big ego even allow Steve to even attempt to be quiet. Eddie wouldn't stop until this place was filled with his echoes. But he held steady.

"There's not even a comfortable place to do it", he said.

To which, Eddie jumped up and went over to the altar, normally it would have a cloth draped over it, but when Eddie pressed down, there was a bit of give, like it was cushioned. Steve didn't even have the presence of mind to ask why because Eddie was already palming himself through his pants, beckoning Steve over with a finger.

Let it be known that marriage didn't stop Steve from being a slut. It was just reserved for his groom-to-be.

So he loved on Eddie and let Eddie love on him, in an embrace that felt more rapturous than any praise he'd given in a church. This was what ecstasy was. Steve knew deep in his soul that he was born for this, to share this with Eddie.

Hours later, dressed to the nines and promising themselves to each other in front of an audience, Steve couldn't stop thinking about his body draped over the altar. Eddie had said more than once that he worshipped Steve's body but the same was true for him. When Eddie slipped the ring onto his finger and kissed him, Steve felt like he was being smiled on by Heaven.

A man like this loving and promising eternity, how could be anything less than a blessing?

[thezombieprostitute]

Hummingbird - Part 4

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Word Count: ~1300

A/N: Reader is female but no physical descriptors are used.

A/N2: This takes place at the same time as Dream Come True - Part 3.

Warnings: Talk of purposefully not eating enough. Let me know if I missed any!

Part 3 -- Part 5

Series Masterlist

After the party was officially over and the last guest had left, Steve pulled you in for a deep kiss. “Thank you for staying with me tonight,” he breathes. “Couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”

“Yes, you would have,” you croon. 

“Nope,” he counters, holding you close to him. “I definitely wouldn’t have been able to keep my calm without you on my arm. Would’ve thrown everyone out in a huff at the end of the scheduled time instead of letting them linger as an excuse to keep you with me.”

“Ah, I was wondering why you let so many stragglers stick around,” you smile at him. “Anything to spend more time with me, huh?”

“We can spend a lot more time together. Tonight. If you want,” he smirks.

“As much fun as that would be,” you tease, “I want to have an actual date or two first.”

“I can respect that. What would you like? A night on the town? A night at the gallery? A fancy, incredibly exclusive restaurant?”

You smirk, “I want to see you in something other than a suit.” He blinks in surprise and you continue, “do you even have any casual wear? When was the last time you were able to just have a night in and not have to dress fancy?”

His cheeks turn a little pink at that, “it…it really has been a long time.”

“I figured. So, for our first date, you’re coming to my apartment, wearing something casual, and we’re going to stay in and watch movies. How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect,” he coos as he pulls you in for another kiss.

Steve stood, hands on his hips, staring at his closet for the better part of an hour. Your date is tonight and he’s realized he might be lacking in terms of “something casual”. He’s had to wear suits for so many years that it just became easier to wear them every day, especially if he had an emergency meeting come up. His closet was completely dominated by professional clothes with no denim, khakis or t-shirts in sight. 

Sam and Bucky weren’t being helpful, either. “Seriously, Steve, you know she’s into you,” Sam exclaims. “Stop worrying so much about it.” 

“Just don’t wear a jacket and keep the top couple of buttons undone,” Bucky added. “It’s not quite casual but it’s probably as close as you’re gonna get.”

“How about some of your workout clothes,” Sam asks. “They’re all clean, right?”

“Sweatpants might be a little too casual,” Bucky retorts. 

“Fair, fair,” Sam concedes. “But the shirts could work.”

“Yeah,” Bucky nods. “One of those shirts, not tucked in, and no jacket. That’s pretty casual. Especially for Steve.”

Steve lets out an exasperated sigh and follows their advice. He also makes a mental note to figure out something less formal from his tailor.

When you open the door to your apartment Steve hands you a bouquet of purple petunias and violets. You bounce on your toes a little as you take them from him and gesture for him to come inside. He’s immediately hit by the delightful mix of smells coming from your kitchen. 

“I thought we were going to order delivery,” he comments.

You snort, “ordering out is for when I’m worn out and can’t bring myself to cook. I really enjoy cooking and everything that comes with it. Except for the dishes but thankfully I have a dishwasher.” 

Steve chuckles, “is there anything I can do to help out?”

“Yes, actually. I need a taste tester!” You giggle as you pull him into the kitchen. You set the flowers in a vase and turn back to your cooking. “And thanks for wearing a t-shirt,” you comment. “Now I don’t have to be so scared about accidentally spilling some food and staining your very expensive clothing.”

“That’s why you wanted me in casual wear? If any shirt got stained I’d have just gotten a new one,” he argues.

“Or,” you counter, “you could just have an outfit that’s okay to relax and not a big deal if you get food, makeup or whatever on it.”

He raises an eyebrow, “are you thinking of getting some of your makeup on my shirts?” Heat rushes to your cheeks and you stumble over your words, trying to think of a reply. Instead you dip a spoon into the sauce and ask him to taste test it. He grins wickedly at your deflection but obliges. 

“Mmmmmm,” is his immediate response. “That tastes really good! A nice bit of heat with it, too. What is it?”

“It’s the sauce for some tinga de pollo,” you reply. “So not too much cumin or too little garlic?”

“Not at all,” he affirms. “It’s damn delicious!” 

You squeak in delight and turn back to the stove. You turn off the burners and start dishing up the rice and chicken. “If you need some more heat for it, let me know,” you tell Steve as you hand him his plate. “In the meantime, let’s watch a movie. Do you have any preferences?”

“Umm,” he ponders. “Just no True Crime stuff?”

“Okay! We’re watching Labyrinth, then.”

“A Muppet movie?”

“A great Muppet movie, thank you.”

Steve smiles as you both sit on the couch and you sidle up to him. The food really is delicious and you were nice enough to dish out large portions. Definitely better than a fancy restaurant that serves mostly empty plates. It makes him think about his early career when he was finally able to afford to eat his fill. People were amazed at how quickly he was able to bulk up once he was finally getting enough food. But he had to stop eating his fill in favor of manners and societal obligations. He’s so caught up in enjoying the food he doesn’t realize how fast he’s eaten it until he accidentally brings an empty fork to his mouth. 

“Thank you for the compliment,” you smirk. He blushes and tries to apologize for eating so fast but you cut him off. “Sincerely, Steve,” you comfort him, “I’m glad you enjoyed the food. Would you like some more?”

“Yes, please,” he looks at you so appreciatively you give him a small kiss on the cheek as you grab his plate. He tries to grab his plate back but you put a hand on his chest, to keep him seated. “I can get my own food,” he argues. “You should sit and keep eating.”

“Hmm…” you ponder, enjoying the feel of his chest under your hand. “Okay. But promise me you’ll leave room for dessert.”

“I promise,” he smiles and you hand him his plate back. He comes back from the kitchen with his plate entirely covered with food. You raise an eyebrow and he looks right at you as he starts eating. Figuring he knows what he’s doing you settle in again and get back to the movie. 

When you’re done eating you set your plate on the coffee table and snuggle up against Steve, resting your head on his shoulder. He freezes for a moment but finds himself relaxing into you. When he finishes his plate he sets it aside and wraps his arm around you. Hugging his massive bicep you sidle closer to him until you’re almost sitting on his leg and rest your head on his chest. He gently moves you so that your legs are sitting on his lap and leans his head against yours.

Between the weight of his arm, his body heat and the steady rhythm of his heart you find yourself falling asleep. You try to fight it but then you hear Steve’s gentle snores. Carefully, so as not to wake him, you glance up and smile at his handsome face, more relaxed than you’ve ever seen. You decide to go with it and let yourself fall asleep feeling safe and warm in his arms.

Part 3 -- Part 5

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @rebekahdawkins; @texmexdarling

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know.

[onakomiyaki]

just a silly crush (not) pt.3

pairing : daniel ricciardo x childhood friend-brabham!reader

summary : turns out you're not as stong as you think you are, and you were sure that you've made a mistake. or are you?

warning : unedited and rushed work, harsh words, slowburn.

a/n : GOSH THIS WILL BE A LONG ONE IM SORRY-

masterlist

there is nothing better than to be able to sat on your own bed, any 5 stars hotels will never beat the comfort of your own bed and you know it very well.

"finally." you said as you plopped onto your bed, falling head first to your king-sized mattress.

you inhale deeply as you close your eyes before exhaling slowly through your mouth.

"no one can ever replace you..." you mumble to your pillow as you close your eyes.

you always love your own bed. the familiar lavender scent, the lovely satin pillow, and most importantly your navy blue hand-made knitted blanket that you got for your 17th birthday.

it was one of those chunky knitted blanket that everyone obsessed about back in 2017. and you're proud to say that you did it first in 2007, ten years before that thing even trending. well, actually, daniel gave it to you so he did it first.

you remember how adamant you are about him buying you gifts for your 17th birthday. you knew he would spent lots of money because he was is that extra, and you knew money is not a problem for him.

"c'mon (y/n), let me buy you gift for your birthday before i move to italy."

and you can't say no to that. but of course you gave him a budget and told him no expensive shit because it won't be special (since you can buy it also) and daniel happily agree.

so when he gave you a huge blue box, you'd expected something like a huge teddy bear. but you remember telling him that you hate teddy bear.

"open it, open it!"

and when you open the box you let out an audible gasp as you pull the blanket out of the box. the soft merino wool engulf you, and you squeel in excitement as you put yourself in a cocoon of the blanket. daniel watch in amusement as he ruffle your hair.

"i asked one of my friend's sister to make it for you. i paid her don't worry!"

and now back to present day, 14 years later, the blanket still there with you. although its not as fluffy as it used to be, you still snuggle with it when you having trouble to sleep. but of course no one knew about that, not even daniel himself.

the navy blue blanket is draped over your sofa, sitting there snuggly. you always put it on your sofa since the accident that almost cost you that blanket. it was 3 years ago and you remember you're about to cry when you saw that the threads is coming lose because you accidently pull the blanket too hard when you were having a 'guest' on your bed while doing the devil's tango.

the phone on your back pocket vibrate and you relucantly take your phone out and answer the call. must be important.

"hello?"

"(y/n) this is lando norris."

you sat down now, sitting with your legs pulled close to your chest. why the hell lando would call you at this hours? its 1 past 15 a.m right now.

"oh, yeah. what's up bud?"

"we're in budapest right now and daniel is wasted... and i heard that you live here, can you pick him up? i can't take him back with my car since i'm here with my plus one, and calling uber at this hours seems dangerous–"

"god i am not a good driver, when did it all went wrong??"

'– daniel don't go there its dangerous! daniel– oh god i have to go he's about to walk to the pool!"

"what? lan–lando? hello?"

your exhaustion seems to gone instantly, make you shoot up from your bed. you grab your purse and car key as you running to your garage, almost tripped when you descent from your the top of the stairs.

thanks to baby jesus you're still in fairly 'decent' clothes so you don't have to worry about changing it. what you didn't think about was grabbing a coat, and boy the cold weather bite your skin.

but you could care less about being cold. daniel is your top concern. him being drunk is something you rarely see because of his high alcohol tolerance, and you know the situation is bad if he is wasted. you don't know what happen, but maybe it had to do with the hungary grand prix. you have not watched the race so you don't know what happen.

you drove out from your garage as you fumble with your bluetooth connection. your aston martin dbs roar in the almost silent road as you finally able to connect your phone.

you clicked a call button from your car, quickly calling lando again as you drove like a maniac. budapest is almost two hours drive from your place in szeged, so you have to turn yourself into an f1 driver.

"lando, drop your location i'm on my way from szeged."

"szeged? you don't live in budapest? (y/n) its two hours drive, will you be fine? should i go order uber instead?"

"yes i'll be fine lando, just drop the location."

"okay i'll send you the location."

"i'll be there as fast as i can, you keep an eye on daniel okay?"

"okay, will do. thanks (y/n). drive safely– daniel get back here!"

you cursed under your breath as you maneuver through the quiet road. thank god the tram is already stop working in this wee hours and the street is fairly quiet.

beads of sweats starting to form on your forehead as you watch your speedometer. god you really drove like a robber who got chased by the police.

you watch your navigation and gosh it still 1 hour and 20 minutes despite you driving like your life depends on it.

"fucking hell..." you said as you accelerate your car, hitting your record on the fastest you ever drove a normal car.

lando bit his lip nervously as he hold daniel, basically hugging the man from wandering away. daniel sobs quietly as he slump against lando, eyes half closed and the younger man watch in sympathy.

the reason of the man drinking carelessly was his race result today. p11, not even scoring for the team after his p5 at silverstone. lando had dnf-ed so he understand the frustration, but deep down he knew that its different for daniel.

he remember how daniel had avoided everyone like a plague, including him. so when daniel invite him to go to the club he immediately agree, only to find him already drinking and half drunk on the bar.

"where i went wrong lando?" daniel asked for the umpteenth time that night.

lando sigh as he softly rub the older's arm.

"its just one race daniel. you're not wrong at all." he said.

lando's plus one had gone to buy some mineral water as him and daniel sat down on the curb. he watch as the older man start to aggressively hit his own chest, lips pouting. the sight of drunk daniel is a little adorable. a little.

"its my fault... i'm sorry i can't score for us lando. sorry i finish empty handed."

"lan, i got the water." luisinha give the cold water bottle to lando.

"thanks lu, sorry you have to run i need to keep an eye on this baby."

luisinha laugh as she sat down beside lando, watching how daniel mumble incoherent words. "its all good... beside, he need you right now." she said, fanning daniel's face with her hand.

"what he need is (y/n) honestly," he said as he wipe the sweat on daniel's temple. "daniel, drink this." he said as he sat daniel straight, bringing the bottle close to his mouth.

daniel grumble as he open his mouth, taking the bottle of water from lando's hand and slowly emptying the bottle. some trickles of water slide to his throat.

there is a screech of tires not far from them. lando turn his head at the noise as he watch you half running to their direction. his eyes widened at the sight of you. just how fast you drove here? its only been an hour and fifteen minutes since he sent you his location.

you were wearing a white camisole and some black sweatpants, a white nike air force and hair in messy bun. lando was sure she saw you shivering a little from the cold and he watch in awe as you kneel down in front of daniel.

"is he okay?" you asked, voice trembling.

"well see it for yourself." lando said.

there are some tears stain on daniel's cheeks and your heart ache at the sight of him. you slowly caress his cheek and he lean into your touch, eyes still closed.

"you've been driving only in those? aren't you cold?" lando asked pointing your decent outfits

"yeah, it is cold. and yeah i am driving basically topless. i also run past few red lights." you answer, huffed as you lightly tap daniel's cheeks.

"what?!"

"i'll be okay. i'll pay for the fine if they caught me," you shrugged. "do you know where he stayed?"

lando nods his head as he stand. "same hotel as me, i'll lead the way. just follow my car. how fast you drive?"

"mate, you don't want to know."

"fine... i just want to know if you got that racer blood in you."

"just-help me with daniel, please." you said as you put daniel arm around your shoulder, ready to hoist him.

"hey, let me." lando said, stopping you before kneeling in front of daniel, back facing him. he swiftly move daniel arms around his shoulder.

lando hoist daniel on his back, and the sight is so bizarre. lando grunts as he walk to your car and daniel's legs drag lazily since he is significantly taller than him.

you and luisinha walk side by side ahead of the briton in comfortable silent. she had offer you lando's jacket which you politely refuse since she is also in sleeveless dress.

"sorry for ruining your date." you smile apologetically to her and she just wave you off with a smile.

"its not a big deal, really." she smile.

"(y/n) open the door–ugh–quick! he is so heavy." lando grunts and you open the passenger door.

he drop daniel down slowly before strapping the seatbelt on his body. his chest rise and fall in rapid motion as he slowly close the door of your car.

"well that's a workout." he simply mumble, hands on his hips.

"thank you lando... you don't have to do all this but you still did, i appreciate it." you said, pulling lando to a hug.

the young briton laugh as he reply your hug, patting your back gently. "no problem y/n. now, lets go before you get hypothermia." he said.

you drive slowly pass the empty road, following lando's car in silent. every now and then you stole a glance to your friend, who is sleeping rather soundly. you slowly stroke his hair since he lean towards you, almost falling from the seat.

"y/n..." daniel softly calls your name.

you stop your movement as you watch how his face seems to contort in sad emotion. he looks so hurt.

"i'm here big guy." you whisper as you return your hand to his hair.

after another help from lando, you manage to somehow put daniel on the bed. you had bid you a goodnight with luinsha before entering the building with a hug. lando, who originally insist on staying, give you a concern look.

"you sure you want me to go?" lando asked one more time as you lean on the door, hand folded in front of your chest.

"c'mon now, i've known this man even before you learn your a b c, norris." you answer, rolling your eyes at the him.

"we're not 20 years apart, y/n. in fact lewis is older than you and daniel. stop treating me like a kid." he protest.

you give him a ruffle on his hair, messing his already messed up curls. "i'll be okay, i can handle him. now go, don't make lui wait even more."

lando give you a nod as he walk away, waving at you before jogging down to his car where his date is waiting for him to return her to her hotel. you waved back at the briton, waiting for him to dissapear. as lando took a turn and gone, you close the door as you walk to daniel–who currently sprawled on the bed.

you slowly starting to take of his shoes along with his socks. carefully, you turn his body so that he lay down on his back. you take a deep breath as you carefully unbutton his tropical shirt, and you had to close your eyes for a bit.

"can i bite you instead?"

you stopped your hand as you reach the last two button of his shirt, opening your eyes to watch daniel and how his chest rise and fall slowly.

goddamit control yourself, y/n.

you bit your lower lips as you continue your task, finally manage to unbutton his shirt. you slowly move your hands, slowly undressing the man and hoping you won't disturb him.

but your breath hitched when you feel a steel grip on both of your wrist, and your eyes widened. daniel had open his eyes, staring directly into your soul with half-lidded eyes.

and you are basically on top of him, jerking your body back so you won't fall on top of him.

"y/n?" he sofly call you.

"hello big guy."

"wha- i'm-"

"you're sobering up. lemme get you some aspirin and water." you said as you slowly taking both of your hands from his grasp.

daniel drop your hands as he sat down, rubbing his eyes and and holding his pounding head. he stare down at his-now unbutton-shirt, before shedding the cloth opting to go shirtless. he aimlessly throw his shirt then laying down again, this time massaging his temple.

you took the aspirin from your bag and then walk towards daniel, not forgetting the cold water bottle.

"drink this. and please put on some shirt." you said as you rolled your eyes, handing him both the aspirin tablet and water.

"why don't you put on shirt first?" he answer, sitting down once again as he drank the tablet and washing it down with water.

"well, thanks to you, dickhead, i forgot my coat. i had to turn myself into a f1 driver just so i can get you here." you said as you sit down on the sofa, right across him.

he feel his soberness coming back to him slowly and he feel how his stomach churn. so he walk towards the bathroom, washing his face with cold water.

"you've been driving in those?" he asked, half shouting from the bathroom.

"yeah." you answer, eyes on your phone as you let out a small yawn.

"who called you to pick me up?"

"lando norris. and also what the hell man, i thought you're wasted."

"my head is still pounding y/n, i am wasted."

"well, you're sober enough to nags."

daniel took a small towels from the shelf as he look at his reflection, noticing the redness of his eyes and his tears stain. he wash his face once again, making sure he got rid his tears stain. then he make his way to your direction.

"y/n its... 3.25 a.m, aren't you cold?" daniel asked, small towel on his hand after he pat his face dry.

"m' fine." you said.

when you finally look up from your phone, your eyes instantly widen. daniel is standing in front of you, still shirtless as he look up at the ceiling. he seems to not noticing how you're struggling to look away from him as he close his eyes to flex his sore muscle.

"gosh i'm getting old, a little drink got me wasted." he said, still unaware how you are a flustered mess.

you slap his stomach, earning a grunt from your friend. he touch his stomach, shoulder hunched as he dramatically fall to the floor.

"you hurt me, i can't believe this." he said with overexagarate tone.

"just put on some goddamn clothes, ricciardo." you said as you lay down on the sofa, ignoring the dramatic aussie.

and so he did. he rose from the floor and walk to his suitcase, and taking a random t-shirt. he also taking his flannel shirt (that he didn't know he have) and throw it at you. you swiftly catch the flannel before it hit your face.

"what is this?" you asked as you open the shirt.

"its a shirt, dumbass" he said as he wear his t-shirt.

"and why you throwing this at me?"

daniel, who currently struggling with his jeans, looking at you silently. "wear that. and also turn you body, i want to take off my pants."

you rolled your eyes as you turn your body, facing at the head of the sofa as you drapped the shirt daniel gave you over your body.

"what you're hiding behind your pants anyway. its not like i'm gonna stare and oogle at your body or something, you won't affect me." you said.

"well turn around and face me then. see if i dont affect you." he challanged.

"no! what? i won't do it you creep."

"face me yourself or do you want me to flip your body myself?"

"i am not gonna face you, you bogan." you said with a huff.

truth be told you are scared of what gonna happen if you turn your body to face him. you don't know if you can see him in the same way you've seen him for this past 20 years.

but you felt his hand on your shoulder, and before you can react daniel already turn your body. you let out a gasp as you dumbly stare at daniel who is hovering you, trapping your body on the sofa.

daniel look so hot from this angle. has he always looked this good? 20 years of friendship and you just see how good-looking this man is when he hover over you?

he give you a smirk as he inching closer to your face. you can smell his perfume mixed with whiskey and you can feel his breath fanning over you.

"you said i won't affect you. but you are as red as a tomato now, y/n." he whisper, hand cradling your jaw.

"its hot in here, move away." you said, looking away from him.

red alert, this is dangerous.

"really? because i believe it is cold in here. i saw your body shivering y/n." daniel said, inching closer to your ear. you can feel his nose ghosting over your skin.

"daniel..." you called, trying to warn him.

"y/n..." he reply.

"danny you don't want to do this, you are drunk."

"but i want to. for a long time." he whisper as he nuzzle to your neck.

okay, you really need to get out of here before its too late.

"y/n, please?" he beg, lips almost attached to your neck.

he sound so desperate, so wounded, and you almost choke on your own spit.

ah screw this.

you turn your face, hands grabbing his face as you lean in for a kiss. daniel grunts as he slowly lower his body, hands immediately went to your waist. he kissed you back, finally tasting your lips after what felt like eternity.

you tilted your head when you feel his hand at the back of your thigh. he guide your leg wrap it around his waist as your body pressed together.

oh you're so screwed.

you both finally let go of the kiss, staring at each other with that mixed feeling. and with last ounce of sanity left in your body, you jerked your body up, pushing the poor daniel aside.

daniel fell with an oof, and you quickly stand up.

"this is wrong this is wrong." you mumble as you walk to the table, grabbing your purse and key.

"wait–y/n wait!" daniel said as he struggle to stand on his feet. "don't go–i'm sorry."

you basically run towards the door, opening the door harshly as daniel chase you. he calls your name but you ignore him, as you close the door behind you and immediately went for the elevator.

when the elevator door open you quickly enter and pressing the basement button. daniel was about to get you but the door is closing in.

"y/n–"

as the door finally closing, you lean on the wall before sinking to the floor. you hide your face in your hands, breath ragged from all the adrenaline rush.

"what the hell." you muttered.

as the elevator finally reach the parking lot you bolted out, quickly running towards your car. its not hard to find your car since its the only aston martin there. you quickly enter your car, revving the engine.

there is a ring from your phone and you believe that it's daniel. so you decided to ignore the call and just drove away from the hotel. you nervously bit your bottom lips, contemplating on what just happen back then.

this is not good.

prev || next

[riality-check]

tw for mentions of substance abuse (part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7)

ao3

Steve Harrington has been awake for fifty four hours. With luck, he'll be able to eke out another eighteen. Three days seems to be the sweet spot, even if he only makes it there half the time and, of that half, it only works half the time.

It's better than nothing.

Maybe four days is the sweet spot. Ninety six is close to one hundred, and that seems like a good omen.

Omens don't really matter though. What matters is staying awake.

So, Steve chugs his coffee and walks into the conference room. Coffee isn't enough, not nearly, but it'll do until he gets desperate enough to take something.

He really does try to only take them when he's desperate. It's easier that way, to just do it when he feels like he needs to rather than measuring dosages and remembering times. Hours start to blur around hour forty of being awake.

He walks in, sits down in the chair closest to the door, and is met with a withering glare from Eddie Munson.

Listen. Steve isn't happy about this either, but at least he doesn't look like he stepped in dog shit on the way here. Then again, Steve doesn't have the luxury of ever looking truly unhappy.

Eddie is a rock star. Mean is part of his brand, while mean is the antithesis to Steve's.

Whatever.

"Are you kidding me?" Eddie says, still staring at him, but Steve knows he's not who he's asking.

"He's the best person for the job," Chrissy, Eddie's manager, says.

"We don't need him."

Someone taps Steve's left shoulder. He turns to see Jeff, the lead singer of Corroded Coffin, give him a warm smile.

"Nice to meet you, Steve," he says, and Steve shakes his proffered hand.

"Happy to help," he says, and it's only half a lie.

The drummer and the bassist - Steve would probably be able to remember their names if he wasn't so exhausted - wave their hellos from a few seats away.

"Hi, Steve," Chrissy says.

He takes another swig of his coffee and gives her a little wave in response.

"We don't need a pop singer to write lyrics for us," Eddie says, still not letting this go.

"Yes, you do," Steve says. He sets his coffee cup down on the table and opens the folder he brought with him. "I read through the lyrics of every one of your songs."

"You didn't even listen to them?"

"Would have taken too much time."

That's a lie. Listening, even with the lengthy guitar solos, probably would have taken less time. But Steve needs something to fill the hours when he's supposed to be asleep, and reading, that slow process with its ample, awakening frustration, is the perfect thing.

"You became so much less interesting after your first album," he says. "Every one of your songs talks about the same thing. Conquering evil, killing demons, blah blah blah."

"That's what's in right now," Eddie snaps.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve catches the drummer and Chrissy make the same motion. They pinch the bridges of their noses, clearly frustrated.

Steve sees why Chrissy wanted to talk to him.

"It is," he concedes. "But I also read the lyrics of every song by the bands with top ten hits. They don't talk about it nearly as much. They sing about other stuff. And they don't use an F major chord in every one of their songs."

"We don't-"

"We kinda do, Eddie," the bassist pipes up. "I'm a little sick of playing F."

Eddie takes a breath. Steve takes the opportunity to take a pill.

He found a way to make it less obvious for people who have something to say about it. Steve will take one from his pocket, yawn, cover his mouth, and swallow it dry. Easy peasy. They don't notice, he doesn't have to deal with people who don't get it making comments.

Except when he does, this time, Eddie narrows his eyes. Like he knows what he's doing.

Steve doesn't like that look.

"Have you read my stuff?" He won't ask if Eddie has listened to any of it. He knows the answer is no, if he keeps bringing up genre like that really means anything.

Eddie doesn't respond. He keeps those narrowed eyes trained on Steve and stays silent.

"Didn't think so," he says, and he slides over the thick stack of papers Robin stapled together for him last night. "Here's everything. Read it. Tell me if you like it. I'm only helping you if you give a shit. This goes two ways, and I don't want to waste my time if you think I'm wasting yours."

Eddie doesn't take the stack, but the drummer, sitting next to him, tugs them closer. "Thanks."

"Let me know tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Jeff says, eyebrows raised.

Steve forgets that most people don't actually take advantage of their twenty four hours.

"End of the week," he says instead, and he relaxes when Jeff does.

The drummer starts flipping through the pages while the bassist looks over his shoulder.

"Need anything else from me?" Steve asks Chrissy.

"I don't think so," she says. "I'll call you back to set up a time for Saturday."

He's amazed by the fact that someone as sweet as her works with someone as pretentious as Eddie.

"Sounds good," he says, and he walks out, trying to ignore the feeling of Eddie's eyes on him as he goes through the door.

It only halfway works.

The pill should kick in soon, within a half hour, maybe shorter because of the coffee. Maybe he'll write something. Maybe he'll work on the piano melody he's been tinkering with for the past week. Maybe he'll read the latest book Robin picked up from the library, something interesting enough to be worth the frustration of the moving letters, something that will still fill the time.

He'll make it to seventy two hours. Then he'll crash because his body is a worthless piece of shit, and he hopes this is the half of the time when he doesn't have any goddamn nightmares.

Maybe he should pop another pill, just in case.

[unicornsacorn]

wild kratts headcanons

feeling very drained so I'm gonna just ramble off some headcanons I think are funny

*Martin was in charge of picking up Chis from school and once he knew Chris wasn't paying attention he'd blast any and all music at top volume just to mess with him

*During a team sleepover Jimmy had been accidentally left outside and was locked out for 5 minutes, he still hasn't forgive everyone yet

*Martin was often left in charge of Chris when his parents had to go out of town, They would spend all night watch TV and nothing but junk food

*Jimmy does smoke weed but because the others don't like the smell he smokes outside or waits till everyone is asleep

*Chris did try smoking weed with Jimmy, but he found it made him over think to the point where he was trying to redesign the CPS, Martin wasn't happy about that

*Koki is so good at sewing and embroidery to the point the boys always bring they're gear to her specifically, so she can make little animal embroidery on the inside of they're gear

*Zack is so close to his mother he makes it a point to call her every Sunday around noon, everyone knows this and doesn't plan or do anything in those hours

*Aviva has a bit of a sweet tooth when ever Jimmy does some baking she's always the first to try his recipes

*Zach does have a crush on Chris but denys it, but he's not exactly subtle about it so Chris takes every opportunity to flirt with Zach just so he can see him get flustered, Martin just wants to go home during these times

*The ability for Chris being able to sleep anywhere is something he kept from his college years during cram weeks, the team gets very concerned when they caught him sleeping in a tree

*The reason the team sleeps in hammocks is because they're easier to clean and take less space than an actual bed

*During flu seasons Both Jimmy and Martin will fight tooth and nail not to get shots, it'll take an hour and bribery just to get then to sit down. It takes Chris has to hold both their hands to get them to calm enough to get the shot.

*The Tortuga gang can drink and often have drinks together during peaceful nights or after very stressful nights. Martin would always joke that Chris and koki were too much to drink, earning him a quick shoulder punch or an eye roll

*After the Chris bot incident the brothers joked that with the CPS they could be actually power house villans if they wanted too, Aviva knowing they were joking but not taking the chance locked the CPS for a week while she worked on fails safes in case that happened

*The Kratts have been sued by many poachers after either interfering with they're hurting or for the brothers attacking them after they've been shot at. In actual court the poachers always lost when the judges sided with the kratts for way reasons including, they were poaching on government protected land and it's very clean to tell actual animals from those that look blue and green and can talk

*Mama Kratt makes it a her responsibility to call her boys every week and for them to visit her every mother's day. When they visit she always has they're favorites ready and showers them in so many kisses the lipstick wouldn't wash off for a month.

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

OMG😵‍💫 LITERALLY TRYING TO KILL ME… could u do a 5, 16, and 29 for your kinktober masterlist with sirius and remus… im actually going insane rn but anyways hope ur doing well and remember to take a break🪩 thank youuuu beautiful writer

5: first time   16: threesome   29: anal

my. god. seems like you want to kill me! this is one i'd been thinking about trying for so long actually...

okay, so i started writing it, and was going to write a brief lead up, and ended up writing too much. so. i'm posting that here now as a kind of prologue since i'm itching to get something out there and people seem to prefer shorter bits. then i'll write the proper request tonight and link it here when i post later today or tomorrow

UPDATE: link to the actual smut fic

(thank you for requesting! so so love to hear from you🫶)

so to start:

pre- remus x sirius x reader

word count: 1.4k

Prologue

It was for the best, you’d all decided. 

“We’ll all still be friends no matter who you choose,” they’d both said when months of sexual tension and emotional turmoil had finally climaxed in a conversation. 

Sirius and Remus: your two best friends in the entire world. Jaime, too, but it was different. He’d been quite preoccupied lately since getting together with Lily, and he was the only one you saw in a brotherly way. Sirius and Remus, your two best friends in the entire world… well… your feelings for them were less sisterly. 

And, it so happened, they felt the same. Both of them. 

The attraction, the affection, it had all finally become too much, had begun to strain the friendship. And since protecting the friendship was the purported reason none of you were acting on your feelings, you’d finally had that colossally awkward conversation. 

Their proposal: you choose. That way at least two out of the three of you get what you want, and the other can start trying to get over it; all three of you promise to prioritize your friendship even if it takes some readjustment. 

Your response: you couldn’t. You loved them both too much to hurt either of them or, honestly, to even be able to make the choice. 

So, you’d all agreed, it was for the best if you continued as you were. At least now things were out in the open, relieving some angst, some awkwardness. 

Open conversation had done nothing to relieve your feelings, however, and not just the fluffy ones. Those, at least, you could still indulge with your best friends. You could laugh together and talk and go out and even snuggle up on cold nights. But your lust for your boys you could not indulge, and in the pit of your stomach — and a bit lower — it grew and grew. 

Some nights, it became just a bit too much, and you’d opt for a bit of… personal time. You’d touch yourself to the thought of them; one suddenly swapped for the other in your fantasies then back again and so on, not even your mind ever picking a preference.

You have plans with them later but are at their empty flat quite early. They have more space than you, so it’s not uncommon for you to hang out here without them. They’ve even given you a key. 

James is out with Lily, and Remus and Sirius are out on some errand, hunting for some part for Sirius’s motorbike or something. You hadn’t paid too much attention, to be honest, just knew they’d be home in — you check the clock — a couple of hours. 

Enjoying the peace, you read a while, snuggled up on their sofa, Remus’s big, fluffy blanket too inviting to ignore. You stretch out our legs and hear something fall onto the floor. Looking over, you see you’ve knocked over Sirius’s favourite leather jacket. Picking it up, feeling its familiar texture in your hands, in the privacy of your solitude, you bring it up close and inhale. It smells so distinctly of him, and Sirius’s scent has always intoxicated you. 

At the thought of his arms wrapped around you when he’s wearing this jacket, you get a bit warm. You shift Remus’s blanket partly off of yourself, but rather than cool you down, this gets you thinking about his arms around you the many times you’ve shared this blanket. The way his body feels up against yours. The way he’ll often pull your legs on his lap. The way Sirius will come complaining about him hogging the blanket — and you — and sit on the other side of you, resting his head on your shoulder. His long, raven locks tickling your neck. 

Before you realize you’ve really decided to do this, you’ve slithered your body prone; your hand has slipped into your trousers; your eyes have fluttered closed, and your mind is reeling at the thought of them, one on either side of you, doing more than snuggling.

I can be quick, you think. They’re not meant to be back for ages anyway, and I can’t very well hang out with them when I’m already all flustered.

A minute later, your trousers are partly off, and you’re properly touching yourself, completely absorbed in the textures, the smells, the fantasies of the jacket, the blanket, the boys they belong to, the boys whose bodies you want all over yours, the boys whose key you don’t hear because you’re so caught up.

As the door flies open, so do your eyes, and they meet each of theirs in turn, both sets wide and starting. You yank your pants up and pull yourself together, jumping off the sofa.

A mess, your voice is raspy when you say, “I thought you weren’t going to be home till later.” 

A beat. They’re both still staring at you, their mouths agape, their feet seemingly glued to the entrance.

Then Remus awkwardly clears his throat. 

“Um,” cough, “yeah. Bloke canceled. Didn’t have the part.”

“Were you just touching yourself?” pipes up Sirius before Remus is even through with his short explanation. 

“I…” You’re mortified. “I’m sorry! Fuck. I thought I had the place to myself for a while! Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed.” You cover your burning face with your hands. “Ohmygod ohmygod. Please, is there any chance we can just forget this happened?” you plead. 

“Fat chance,” Sirius barks, and you glare at him. “Okay, okay,” he yields, hands up, “We can pretend.” He smirks.

“Pretend what, arsehole?” you say.

He opens his mouth to respond, but Remus cuts him off, saying “— that we didn’t see anything…” Even he is struggling to choke back a laugh as he pats Sirius on the shoulder and adds, “Right, mate?”

Sirius, sarcastic seriousness smeared across his features, just nods. 

“Oh my god,” you say again, seemingly having forgotten the rest of your vocabulary, shaking your head at the situation and plopping back down onto the sofa, face back in your hands. 

They come over, laughing now but comfortingly, and sit on either side of you. Sirius’s arm comes around you, and Remus’s hands take yours and pull them off your face. Surprising you, Sirius is the first to speak. 

“It’s fine, love,” he chuckles. “Honestly.” He rocks you back and forth a bit. 

“It’s not like either of us haven’t had a wank on this sofa.” 

“On the sofa??” Remus retorts. “Your room is right there for fuck’s sake.” 

“Alright, I stand corrected,” Sirius continues, completely unfazed, “It’s not like either of us haven’t had a wank in this flat.” He laughs again, and Remus scoffs, shaking his head, but can’t help but also chuckle. 

“Okay, okay,” you rush, not wanting to start thinking about them wanking, “Can we please talk about something else before I die of embarrassment?”

They agree and let up, and you turn on the telly, desperate for some distraction. The three of you start watching, and after a few tense minutes, you attempt some casual conversation, asking about their days and such. They answer, but the strange mood never quite seems to dissipate. There’s a charge in the air that mere time is no match for. 

You flip the channel and, to your horror, are met with a couple kissing passionately. You turn it off, much too quickly to be at all subtle. You shift slightly in your seat in between them. They’re both much tenser than usual, keeping more distance than usual but somehow pretending not to with an awkward graze here or there. Sirius is squirmy; Remus is too still. 

“How about some music?” you try, getting up and beelining for their record collection and putting something on. 

Realizing it will be even weirder to sit somewhere else, which you never do, you sit back down between them. 

Except for the music: silence. 

Until Sirius whispers, his voice gruff, “So who were you thinking about?”

Your head whips toward him, and you’re met with an expression you’ll never be able to erase from your mind. His stormy grey eyes are blown almost fully black and slightly hidden under heavy lids. His mouth is slightly open, but at seeing your face, his eyes scanning your features, he bites his lower lip. There’s lust in every feature, certainly, but there’s desperation too.

You turn toward Remus. He looks equally wrecked. 

His eyebrows furrow, and you’re unsure whether that’s meant in question to Sirius’s query. 

You look back and forth between the two men, the air around you heavy and electric. 

“Honestly?”

They both nod. 

“Both of you…” you confess.

continued in this smut fic

[justagalwhowrites]

Hey! I love your writing could you please do a one shot of Joel just being a girl dad again in Jackson, like wrapping baby girl up in a burrito and he is terrible at it.

Ahhh Hi Bestie!

I love this ask so much. I'm such a sucker for soft Joel and dad Joel and Joel just doing the things he loves most, which is look after his girls. I hope this is what you're looking for <3

Girl Dad

Joel takes care of his newborn daughter, Sylvie. A Lavender one shot shared in honor of Doc's birthday, October 5.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender

Warnings: Mention of miscarriage. No use of y/n. 18+ only Minors DNI

Length: 2k

“Hey now,” Joel said, voice low and soothing as he held his newborn daughter against his chest, bouncing her gently in the dim light of the living room lamp. “You’re alright baby girl, we’re gonna let your mama rest, she needs to sleep after bringing you into the world.” 

Sylvie, it seemed, didn’t care. Her sharp little cry kept going, her small body squirming with it. She’d eaten only an hour before so it shouldn’t be that. He’d checked her diaper once but that was clear. For a bit, being against his skin had seemed to help but she was back to her pained little wails. 

Joel delicately pulled her from his chest, her tiny legs pulled up into her stomach, her dark hair in soft disarray on her impossibly small head. He checked her diaper again and, sure enough, this time it was wet. 

“Well that explains it, huh baby girl?” He said softly. “C’mon, let’s get you changed…” 

He crept back up the stairs, hoping that you were exhausted enough to sleep through her cries. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were. You’d been in labor less than 24 hours ago, your head on Joel’s chest as he held onto you. All he’d wanted was to be able to take some of the pain and the work from you, to make it so you weren’t the one hurting. All he could do was hold you to himself, press cool cloths to your skin, tell you how much he loved you, how amazing he thought you were. It hadn’t felt like nearly enough, especially not when Sylvie’s tiny body had been pulled from yours in all her soft perfection. How could he ever repay you when you’d given him what felt like the entire world? 

Joel set the baby down on the makeshift changing table in her nursery and pulled off the soiled diaper before wiping her. She quieted, her eyes so big and deep, watching Joel’s every move. 

“That’s better, huh?” He said softly, getting another diaper out. 

This, he soon realized, was going to be a problem. 

Not that he’d never changed a diaper. He’d changed plenty. He had almost no help with Sarah when she was an infant, burning through probably thousands of diapers before she was potty trained. 

He just had never tried to use a cloth one. Especially not a cloth one that was homemade and required pinning into place. Joel arranged the fabric just so around his daughter, hoping it wasn’t too snug, and got out the safety pin. But he hesitated, looking down at the tiny, squirming child who he loved so much it was like someone had broken his heart open to make room for it all. He’d never tried to pin something on a baby before. Her skin was so soft and delicate, her whole being so small and fragile. What if he accidentally hurt her? What if she remembered that little hurt and hated him or feared diaper changes for the rest of her life? What if something, anything, he did ever caused her pain? What if he found a way to fail her, too?

Joel considered, for a half a second, bringing her to you. Sylvie had only existed outside of you for a few hours, you and the nurse who delivered her had been the only one to change her so far. 

But you were exhausted and needed to rest and Joel needed to be able to change his daughter’s diaper. 

“We’re gonna figure this out, you and me,” he said to her. She made a small, breathy little baby sound back at him. “It’s OK baby girl. I’ll take care of you. Always take care of you.” 

He slowly, carefully, put the first pin in the diaper. No screaming, a good sign. He put in the rest and soon, Sylvie was clean and yawning, stretching her little arms out. Joel swaddled her and tucked the little bundle of her into his arms. 

She seemed so impossibly small, like no human being had ever been this small. Even though he knew she was a full two ounces heavier than Sarah had been when she was born. But she was so tiny that every motion required conscious thought. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite so large, so potentially dangerous and accidentally violent, like if he held her a little too tight he would crush her. How could something so important, so vital, be bound up in such a fragile little package? 

He carried her slowly, carefully, back down the stairs and walked in circles as she stared up at him, her long lashes brushing against her cheeks when she blinked. 

“You should sleep too,” he said softly, bouncing her gently. “You had a big day today.” 

She yawned, as if to prove his point, and he wondered if he’d ever loved a little yawn more. 

He carried her through the living room until she started to fall asleep, her small face going slack. 

He found himself remembering how you felt last fall. It was just a few days before your birthday and you were sitting at the kitchen table that morning, one hand on your mug of tea, the other resting over your lower stomach, thumb brushing the small swell that had appeared there the week before. Your eyebrows were drawn together, eyes lost in thought. 

“Everything OK?” He asked, frowning, sitting beside you. 

“What?” You asked, jumping a little, like you hadn’t even noticed him until he spoke. 

“Just look a little…” he trailed off. “You alright?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you waved him off. “Fine, I’m fine.”

“Baby,” he said gently. “Remember when I said we don’t do this? The thing where you say you’re OK when you’re not and won’t let me help you? What’s going on.” 

You bit your lip, the thumb on the mug tapping against the ceramic before you sighed. 

“I just…” you winced a little. “I don’t think I ever told you this but… when I lost our first baby, it was on my birthday…” 

“Oh honey,” he pulled you close, pressing his lips to your temple, ignoring the surge of guilt that threatened to drown him whenever he thought about you, alone and afraid, at that time. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I’m about as far along now as I was then,” you said, looking down at your stomach to the small bump that no one but the two of you would notice. “What if it wasn’t what happened with Jessica and the guards? What if there’s something wrong with me and I can’t carry past this point? What if I lose them anyway? What if…” 

“Baby,” Joel said gently, brushing your hair back. “It’s OK. If… if something happens this time, we’ll deal with it together. It will hurt but I’ll take care of you and we’ll have each other and Ellie and it’ll be OK.” 

“I’m scared, Joel,” you said quietly, looking at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know if I can do that again and…” 

“We don’t have any reason to think it’s going to,” he said. “But if it does, it’ll be different this time. You don’t have to do this alone. I promise.” 

You nodded and leaned into him, tucking yourself against his chest. 

He wanted to do something to make it better, something for the first birthday the two of you had been actually together and doing more than just trying to survive in more than 20 years. 

Joel talked to Maria, Tommy and Ellie and put together a quiet dinner for the five of you, one filled with your favorite foods and even a small cake. He put on your favorite Beatles CD and got everyone on board with playing Clue. You laughed and danced with Maria and Ellie around the kitchen in your socks, sliding on the tile while Joel and Tommy smiled and watched through the back door as they stood around the grill. 

It was after midnight when you fell into bed with Joel, stretching out as you lay flat on your back. Your hand was at your bump again and Joel’s hand met yours there, his fingers lacing with your own, his palm on one half of your stomach, yours on the other. 

“We made it,” you smiled a little, more down at your bump than at Joel before you looked over at him. “Thank you for today. I seriously felt like my birthday was cursed, this is the first one I’ve really enjoyed in… well, 22 years?” 

He moved closer to you, kissing your temple and stroking your hair. 

“I really think it’s going to be OK Baby,” he said softly, watching you in the dark. “It feels right. Never had much in my life that did but this does and I think it’s going to be OK. Better than OK.” 

You smiled a little and looked down at the bump. 

“I’m starting to think so, too.” 

It had turned out OK. So much better than OK. Absolutely perfect was asleep on his chest, just a tiny bundle made of you and him together. Even though it was hard to believe something so wonderful could have come from him at all. 

“Hey,” Ellie shuffled in, looking groggy. “She OK?” 

“She’s good,” Joel said softly. “Just tryin’ to get her nice and settled before heading back up, giving her mama a chance to rest.” 

Ellie nodded, going to the kitchen and coming back with two glasses of water. She handed him one and he arranged the baby carefully before taking it. 

“How’s it feel?” She asked, watching Sylvie. “Being a dad again after… well…” 

Joel thought for a moment, looking down at his sleeping daughter. Even through all the love he had for her, for you, for Ellie, there was still the pain of loss. That Sarah would never meet her baby sister, never talk with her about boys or teach her one of the silly dances she and her friends used to choreograph in his living room. But it existed as a separate entity now, that pain. It could live alongside the fulfillment and happiness and overwhelming love he had now. There was room in him for all of it. 

“It’s different,” Joel said after a minute. “But damn, I forgot how good some of this was. I’ll figure out the hard stuff when the time comes.” 

Ellie smiled a little, taking a sip of water. 

“Well, she’s a lucky kid,” she said. “You’re pretty good at figuring out the hard shit.” 

He smiled a little at her. 

“Thanks, Kiddo.” 

The two of them went back upstairs, Ellie kissing her new little sister on the cheek before disappearing into her own room and Joel did everything he could to open the door to your room silently. 

It didn’t matter, you were awake, smiling lazily from the bed. 

“You’re supposed to be sleepin’,” he said softly. 

“I have been. But I heard her crying,” you whispered. “I knew you had her, knew you’d take care of her.” 

Joel smiled and climbed delicately into bed next to you, Sylvie still on his chest. 

“Can I get you anything?” He asked quietly. 

“No,” you shook your head but winced as you sat up ever so slightly, back supported by the headboard of the bed. “But can I take her for a bit? I miss her.” 

“‘Course you can, Mama,” he said, carefully putting the baby on your chest. You smiled so big that Joel could see it in the dark, your teeth reflecting the moonlight. He came alongside you, pressing his lips to your bare shoulder, looking at his daughter in your arms. “She looks like you.” 

“Please,” you scoffed. “She’s a few hours old, she doesn’t look like anyone yet.” 

“She’s beautiful,” he said reverently. “She’s perfect. Only gettin’ that from you, Baby.” 

You pulled your eyes away from her to look at him, stretching over ever so slightly to steal a kiss. 

“Thank you for her, Joel,” you said softly. “I’m so glad we made it here.” 

He looked at you and the child you’d made with him and wondered, for a moment, if he’d ever felt more complete than he had in this moment. 

“Me too, Baby,” he said quietly. “Me too.” 

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @k-eke

My name is Kévin, but everybody calls me Kéké! I’m a 2D animator and illustrator, mostly drawing little bouncy animals and sharing them on the internet. I like cartoons and storytelling, trying to create stories where people can find themselves in, also trying to go further and develop stories that are rare in media, such as LGBTQ+ content, for example. I try to keep up with my 3DS to create my work and see how far I can go with it!

Below is our full interview with Kévin!

How did you get your start in animation?

I started animation back on September 4th, 2009, this is when I discovered Flipnote Studio on the DSi for the first time. I did try to animate before but solely on paper, and I had no knowledge about the medium at all, so it was an amazing discovery. I later became self-taught and could keep going by myself.

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as a creator?

I feel the habit that talks the most to me as a creator is communication. I feel it’s important to communicate with your public and fans to keep them updated and knowing how things are moving. It’s getting overwhelming to me the more I grow because the community is massive. Still, I keep up, and I thank many people for always updating me when something wrong happens (thieves, plagiarism, etc., etc.).

From idea to final piece, how long does it take for you to create something?

It all depends on the idea and process of the creation. For example, if my idea is just to animate a cat bouncing, this might take me a few minutes. Otherwise, if I want to animate 50 pigeons bouncing, this will take me around 5 hours or more! In general, an animation takes me less than a day or more if I’m busy on the side and can’t advance as much as I wish I could.

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Art blocks often happen. I take them as good to rest and do something else. It’s not a must to draw/animate all the time or too often, and when it happens, I take it easy and try to entertain myself and see when it will be back. Also, I scribble sometimes just to feel like I’m still drawing but not with a point to reach a certain idea, just to let my hand go and make something silly. The mood can come back faster this way!

How do you use Tumblr to further your creativity?

I love Tumblr for the fact you can post 10 illustrations/GIFs as one whole post. This is not possible on other websites I know, so that was great for me to be able to make a compilation of GIFs and post it all there in one shot. It was really helpful and also allowed me to make a few little stories with this opportunity.

What is the hardest part of your process?

The hardest part is drawing on a DSi, 3DS literally! It’s so limited, with few colors (4 or 6 depending on the version), 2 or 3 layers, no zoom, and no options to make camera moves …… but I still love it haha. I’m so used to it that those don’t annoy me anymore, I accepted them, and people admire my art for it (I think!)

Have you ever wanted to dive into another medium before?

I did. Now I use TVPaint and Flash, toon boom more often, but in the end, I still come back to Flipnote Studio because it’s my favorite tool and program.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

So many inspire me it would be hard to choose! But I did love Sarah Andersen, Owlturd comics a lot, visually and the humor. Also, the use of Tumblr to post multiple pages at once: it inspired me to try it as well!

Thank you for stopping by, Kévin! Check out more of Kévin’s work over at @k-eke!

[heli-writes]

Seven summers, part 6.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!reader

Summary: Every summer, Draco and y/n meet. First, by pure coincidence, then intentionally. Unbeknown to Draco, y/n's a muggle who has no clue he's a wizard. With the rise of the dark lord, how long can this go well?

Disclaimers: Make-out session, allusion to sex, no full-on smut (they're still minors, y'all!)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sixth summer, July.

The weather in England has been cold and rainy lately. It doesn't seem to be July at all. Y/n longs for those warm, long summer nights outside in her parents' garden, playing cards and drinking bubbly lemonade. Instead, she's clinging to her umbrella and making herself as small as possible so that she doesn't give the wind too much space to attack her with its whipping water. She's waiting for Draco near the entrance of Diagon Alley. She watched several wizards enter and leave the place, but no Draco so far. Y/n wonders if he will actually show up. They've been exchanging letters via owl, as usual. At the beginning of the school year, Draco's letters have been arriving quite frequently but there were less and less letters the last few months. Y/n knows there's been some arguments with his rival Harry and a new teacher. Draco was appointed a certain position in a Club or something. He didn't really tell her what's it about but ever since he's been more reserved than before.

Y/n waits for almost an hour before she gives up. She walks through the pouring rain back to the bus stop. She stops by a Costa and treats herself to a hot cup of tea on the go in an attempt to warm herself up. On the bus, she plugs in her headphones and stares out of the window. She tries really hard not to cry and hopes that none of the other passengers notice th water dwelling in her eyes. When she gets off the bus, her head's pounding from the oppressing of tears. Y/n walks straight home and up to her room, without taking off her jacket and boots. She can hear her mother complaining about the water on the floor, but she doesn't care. She's just dropped onto her bed when she hears the soft clank of Draco's owl on her window. Y/n gets up and sniffs. This guy has some nerve, she tells herself as she walks up to the window. She takes the letter from the owl and throws some dried meat in its direction, a habit she picked up a while ago. She leans back on a chair and reads.

Dear y/n,

I won't be able to make it today. I'm really sorry but there have been some issues in my family recently and my mother needs my support. I hope the whole situation dissolves itself soon.

I'll send you a letter when it's possible to meet again. I hope you can understand.

Draco.

Y/n folds up the letter and puts it in a box beneath her bed where she keeps all of Draco's letters. She writes a quick response and hands it to the owl who is patiently waiting outside. She watches the owl fly away. I must've just missed his message, y/n thinks. Yet still she can't shake the feeling that something is off.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco lets y/n wait for two weeks. Y/n got antsy with every passing day without hearing from him. Eventually, he sends her a letter and proposes a meeting in Windsor Great Park for a stroll and coffee. Y/n is nervous all morning and has to redo her makeup twice after ruining her eyeliner. Again, y/n is the first to arrive. She walks up and down the entrance of the Savill Garden.

"Hey", she suddenly hears behind her. Draco is standing right next to her with a loopy grin on his face. It doesn't reach his eyes, y/n thinks. She smiles at him nonetheless and opens her arms to hug him. Almost hesitantly, Draco hugs her back. It's a bit awkward. "Do you want to go inside?", y/n says and points to the garden. Draco nods. They take the tourist route but there aren't many other people around. It's probably because of the grey clouds that hang low above their heads. They walk along the path between rows of bushes and other plants.

Draco doesn't make an attempt to start a conversation, so y/n does. "So, how's your family? Everything alright? Your letter sounded quite serious.", y/n asks him. Draco shrugs and doesn't answer immediately. "I guess, we're alright. Things haven't been resolved but it will be ok.", he tells her. Y/n nods reassuringly but she feels that Draco does not really believe that last part. "If you don't mind me asking... what happened?", she asks carefully. Draco kicks a stone out of his way. "My dad has been involved in some stuff. He's temporarily contained.", he tells her. Y/n stares at him with big eyes. "Like jail?", she blurts. Draco gives her an angry look. "Yes. My mother did not take it too well.", he replies. "Oh.", is all that y/n manages to say. They walk in silence for a moment. "What about you? How do you take it?", she asks him. Draco shrugs again and does his best to look somewhere far ahead. "Draco...", y/n mumbles and touches his arm. "I'm fine.", he says harshly, "My mother needs all the support she can get. I can't be weak in a situation like this". Y/n steps a bit closer to him and rests her cheek on his arm while taking his hand. "It's not a weakness to feel bad about a situation like that. It only shows how much you care about your parents.", she tells him. Almost instantly, she can feel Draco's shoulders slump down. He turns to her and finally pulls her close. He hides his face in her hair. "I must do everything I can to clear my family's name. One way or another.", he points out. Y/n thinks about this for a moment. "It's not your responsibility. Support your family as much as you can, but don't let the weight of it pull you down.", she replies. Draco shakes his head. "You don't understand... my mother...", he starts. "...is an adult. We're only sixteen, Draco. There's only so much we can do. Somethings we must let the adults handle.", she points out. Draco shakes his head again. "No, my mother can't handle this. I'm the one who has to fix things. I've been chosen.", he tells her. Y/n frowns. "Chosen? By whom? For what?", she asks him. Draco lets go of her. "It doesn't matter. The point is I'm going to handle this. Don't worry.", he says coldly. Draco walks a bit ahead and y/n stares after him. She's got a really bad feeling about this but it's clear that Draco isn't ready to talk about this.

She jogs after him. "Alright, let's not talk about this anymore. We haven't seen each other since Christmas and I really am happy we're spending time together today.", she announces and gives him a bright smile. She holds out her hand to Draco and looks at him expectantly. Draco sighs and then takes her hand. They continue their stroll and y/n tries to distract Draco with silly stories about school and her friends. She updates him on Olivia's situationship and manages to pry some stories about Blaze and quidditch out of Draco. The atmosphere loosens up a bit and soon she finds Draco genuinely smiling again. They wander deeper into the garden and don't notice how the clouds above them get darker and darker. They're laughing about one of y/n's stories when the first drop landed on y/n's cheek. Draco wipes it away carefully. They look up and notice how armageddon is right above them. Within seconds, it's pouring. Draco pulls her close and uses his wand as an umbrella. However, the wind whips raindrops onto their sides. They rush along the path, deeper into the rows of trees ahead of them. They're almost soaked when they finally find shelter in a stone pavilion.

Y/n is shivering but glad there are still some parts of her that are dry. Draco sits down next to her and puts an arm around her. Y/n nuzzles closer into his side. Draco leans his head against hers. They don't speak and when y/n finally looks up, she immediately meets Draco's gaze. He must've been staring at her for a while now. Immediately, he leans close and they meet in a kiss. For a moment, everything outside the pavilion seems to stop existing. Y/n kisses him back feverishly and grabs his collar. Draco's hand is tangled in her hair and his other hand wanders down her side. Y/n presses her upper body closer to his and Draco pulls her onto his lap. They kiss until they can't breathe anymore. Y/n leans her forehead against his as both of them catch their breath. There are no sounds besides the pouring rain outside.

"Draco?", y/n breathes. "Hm?", he mumbles in response. Y/n's heart leaps in her chest. It takes all her courage to say: "I think I love you". Draco leans back and looks at her with surprise in his eyes. Clearly, he didn't expect a confession of love. Immediately, y/n feels embarrassed. She wishes she could take the words back. "Y-you don't have to say it back. I just thought...", she rumbles but doesn't get to finish her sentence. Draco puts his hand onto the back of her head and pulls her lips against his again. He gives her a deep, longing kiss which leaves y/n breathless once again. When he lets go of her, he looks at her longingly and strokes over her cheek. Then he presses a kiss on top of her head and pulls her into a hug. Y/n feels warm and fuzzy inside and she almost forgets that Draco did not return the confession.

They stay in the pavilion until the heavy rain fades into a soft summer drizzle. Only then, they start wandering back to the entrance of the garden. They part ways rather quickly since the rain started again after some point. However, y/n proposes that he should come visit her soon. Her parents will be visiting her grandparents all the way up in Keswick and will be gone for a couple of days. They put y/n under house arrest for the time being (considering what happened last year), but allowed to have a friend over. They probably thought about Olivia but when y/n asked her, Olivia immediately declined saying that y/n simply must invite Draco. Draco is a bit hesitant to accept the invitation and says that he will have to see how things at home. They both decide to write soon.

On her way back to the train station, y/n has mixed feelings. On one hand she's over the moon about meeting Draco finally again, on the other hand, she's also worried about him. Having a father in jail is already troubling but it sounded as if Draco was ready to do anything to fix that. She wonders if that included more than giving a testimony in front of a court. One way or another, he said. She hopes Draco is smart enough to not do anything stupid, or illegal.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sixth summer, a few weeks later.

Anxious. That's how y/n feels as she waits for Draco at King's Cross. Y/n and Draco have been writing back and forth for the last couple of weeks. Draco's been really quiet about his father's situation and y/n didn't push too much. However, whenever y/n brought up Draco coming over, he kept saying it probably wouldn't be possible and that too many things were going on. Which clearly indicates that things haven't been resolved. Surprisingly, Draco sent her a letter a few days ago saying that meeting her would be possible after all. Apparently, his mother and his aunt visit a family friend, giving him a chance to slip away. When y/n got Draco's letter saying that he would be visiting after all, she immediately called Olivia who immediately rushed over. Giggling, they wrote lists and prepared the house for what y/n's parents assumed was a sleepover. It also leads to her parents being quite relaxed about leaving y/n alone for a few days.

Right now, y/n is waiting for Draco to arrive at King's Cross. Obviously, Draco does not take a muggle train. He arrives via floo powder somewhere close but they agreed to meet at the station from where y/n would take him home. Y/n nervously scans the crowd in front of her. Suddenly, she feels a tap on her shoulder. "Hey, there pretty girl.", she hears Draco say behind her. When she twirls around, he is mere inches from her face. "Draco!", she laughs and throws her arms around him. Draco almost drops his bag while trying to keep his balance. Y/n quickly retreats. "Sorry!", she says. Draco puts down his bag. "That's alright.", he tells her and pulls her close by her arms. He hugs her close and hides his face in her hair. Y/n's heart skips a beat. When he lets go of her, he looks over his shoulder nervously. Distractedly, he says: "So, uh... is your house close by?". Y/n tries to see what's behind him or what he's looking for but when he turns back to her, she gives him a bright smile. "We'll have to take the bus.", she tells him and takes his hand. Draco sighs behind her. "You don't happen to have a fireplace, do you?", he mumbles. Y/n laughs. "No, sorry! We have central heating.", she says as she pulls him along with him.

While Draco feels visibly nervous in the station, he relaxes once y/n and him have entered the bus. When y/n asks him why, he tells her that there are probably no wizards here who could see them. Y/n nods understandingly. It's a short walk from the bus station to y/n's house. Her house is one of these terraced houses with white, wooden windows and a small front garden. It's nothing special really but her parents had to save up for it for quite some time and they're really proud to call themselves 'homeowners'. Y/n thinks it's a bit ridiculous but then again she's never bought a house and doesn't even know how much it would cost. Y/n pulls out her keys and opens the door.

She holds the door for Draco. "Ladies first. You can put your shoes over there.", she tells him as she quickly pushes him inside. Ever since they made a turn into y/n's street, she's been the one looking over her shoulder. Can't have the neighbours see her sneaking a boy in. She's pretty sure that the nosy old lady from across the street would just love to tell her parents all about that. Y/n quickly closes the door behind her and pulls off her jacket. Draco is standing in the hallway looking around and feeling a bit out of place. Y/n points past him. "Go on, straight through that door. There's the kitchen", she tells him. They enter the kitchen together and y/n quickly puts the kettle on. "C'mon.", she tells him and leads him to the room to the right. It's the living room which has a small conservatory attached to it. It's her mother's favorite room since it's always bright and open. In the middle, there's a large couch with pillows and blankets. On the left is the telly and a coffee table. "It's cozy", Draco notes as y/n leads him to the coach. "Sit down. I'll make the tea.", she tells him as she rushes off back to the kitchen.

She prepares a tray with tea, mugs and some biscuits. When she enters the living room again, Draco still sits in the same position as she left him. I guess he feels a bit awkward, she concludes. After she pours him a cup of tea, she asks him: "So, what do you think? Is this how you imagined muggles to live like?". Draco laughs and rubs his head in embarrassment. "Actually, I'm not sure what I expected. But it's really nice. I like this room.", he says and points to the conservatory. Y/n pulls one of her legs under the other and takes her tea cup. "Hm, you really had no image in your head how I live like?", she asks. Draco shakes his head. "How do you imagine I live like then?", he replies. Y/n thinks about that for a moment. "I guess I imagine a big house, maybe a villa. An old one, maybe Victorian? I imagine a big staircase right when you enter. Old, but classic and high-quality furniture.", she explains. Draco looks at her surprised. "That's actually not that far off.", he tells her. "I can't imagine your room though. I feel like I can imagine your dorm room better than your room at home.", she says. Draco takes a sip from his tea. "Do you want me to describe it?", he asks her. Y/n nods excitedly. He crooks his head. "Let's see. My room is upstairs, in the East Wing. It has a window facing the East as well so that I can see the sunrise every morning. My walls are painted in a greyish-blue. My furniture is black. When you enter the room, you're standing in front of my bed. Opposite the bed is the window and in front of it is my desk. To the left of the desk, is my wardrobe which is always messy and to the right are some shelves with books.", he describes. Y/n tries to imagine the room. In her head, the room is kind of empty besides the furniture Draco described. "Is there anything else in the room?", she asks. Draco names some quidditch equipment and some other tokens that y/n has trouble imagining. Draco tried to explain quidditch to her one time but y/n fails to truly understand the game. Probably, because she's never seen a person riding a broom.

"Would you like to see my room?", y/n proposes and Draco nods. They walk back to the hallway and up the stairs that are on the left. "My room is all the way up, beneath the roof.", she tells him as they climb up the stairs. Y/n's room is the only room on the last floor. When she opens the room, there's her bed to the left and behind the door is her closet. Right in front of the door are three windows. In front of the middle one, is her desk. On the left is a little reading niche and on the right is a dressing table and a cupboard. A chain of lights is strung from one side of the room towards another. Y/n makes some space for Draco to enter. He looks around the room in silence. "So, what do you think?", she asks. "It suits you. I don't know how I'd imagine your room but this fits you perfectly.", he tells her. Y/n giggles and drops onto her bed. "You think so?", she says. Draco nods and turns around in her room before joining her on the bed. Y/n thinks the sight of him in her room is a bit strange. Like he doesn't quite fit into it. He's dressed in black (like always) and her room is dominated by beige and pastel tones. "Yeah, it's bright and warm. And girly. And cozy.", he replies. Y/n snuggles up to him. "You like it?", she asks him. Draco pulls her closer to him. "Yes. Actually, I like your whole house. Everything is very home-ly.", he murmurs and kisses the top of her head. He pulls her back and they fall on top of the comforter of y/n's bed. Draco turns to his side, pulling her closer to him. Y/n takes in his scent and puts her head on his chest, just beneath his head. Draco's hand finds its way into y/n's hair and he scratches the skin of her skull a bit. Y/n feels how the three magical words lay heavy on her tongue again, begging her to speak them out loud once more. She swallows them down quickly, however. She doesn't want to make a fool out of herself once again.

They lay there for a while and y/n is not sure whether or not she may have dozed off a bit. The room's colour faded to grey indicating that the sun was about to go down. Draco stretches next to her and sits up. "Are you hungry?", y/n asks him. Draco shrugs but y/n knows him well enough that that means yes. They end up ordering pizza and watching y/n's favourite movie. Setting up the telly, Draco is fascinated by the technology and asks a bunch of questions about how it works without magic which y/n definitely can't answer. She lets Draco choose a movie afterwards and they spend the evening rotting on the couch. Eventually, the titles roll and y/n sits up stretching. She peeks over to Draco whose eyes are closed. Did he really fall asleep?, she thinks and pokes his cheek. He wrinkles his nose and opens an eye. "Sleepy? Wanna settle for the night?", y/n asks and Draco yawns and nods. They get up and climb up the stairs to y/n's room. After brushing their teeth, they climb into y/n's bed and Draco pulls her close. Y/n leans her head against his and lets her hand rest on his chest. Draco gently strokes over her back and places soft kisses on her forehead, her cheeks and her nose. Y/n crooks her head and meets him in a soft kiss. It's slow and sweet. Draco puts his hand into her hair and pulls her face closer to him, deepening the kiss. Y/n's heart starts beating faster. They kiss like this for a bit until Draco rolls her over so that y/n lays flat on her back. Draco hovers over her while continuing to kiss her. Y/n puts her hands behind his neck and one of Draco's hands runs up and down her sides. Y/n feels goosebumps forming all over her body. Draco's hand finds the hem of her shirt. His fingers dip under it, softly circling the skin of her hip. He leans his head back for a moment. "Is this okay with you?", he asks. Y/n nods breathlessly, not trusting her voice to say yes. She's expected it to happen tonight. Hell, she kinda hoped it would. Draco pushes his hand under her shirt exploring the warm, naked skin underneath it. Y/n lets her hands run down his back and pulls his shirt up a bit. Draco sits up for a moment and pulls it over his head. Y/n stares up at him in awe. He looks even more pale than usual with the moonlight hitting his skin the way it does at this moment. She sits up a bit and runs her hand down his chest. Draco gently pulls on the neckline of her shirt, silently asking for permission to take it off as well. Y/n swallows. She's nervous. "We don't-", Draco starts but y/n cuts him off by pulling her shirt off as well. Draco doesn't say or do anything for a few seconds. Then he slowly traces a line from her shoulder over her collarbone down to her chest. He leans forward again, kissing her deeply while finally cupping her chest with his hand. Y/n lets herself fall back on the pillow.

She won't worry about anything tonight. Not about her parents or Draco's parents. About whether or not a wizard and a muggle can be together. By the time Draco's hands wander down to her pants, she has forgotten about most of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tag list: @gypsylilim @caffeine-addict-slug @huiiline @rclector @am0iur @nofacenonamelikekira @0iheartu @jahaina @eringaitskill @jae-is-confused @stormy-stardust @a-beaverhausen @niyahzda1 @idkwatodoanymore @cumuluscranium @moongirl27 @smilefortae @idkimjusthereman @ethyxia @nana-jaeminie @thatswhatmakesmefree-blog

[Please leave a note if you'd like to be tagged too.]

[sea-of-dust]

Ranpo,Chuuya,Atsushi x M!Reader

My hand slipped while I was doing math homework and i accidentally wrote this. This is my first time writing for a male reader I'm sure I'll be fine (this is going to be worse than my math grades)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of bruising,death implications,might be a lil ooc I haven't watched bsd in a hot minute

Oh? You have sweets? Are able to bake?? What's that, you're able to spoil him? Yea, he's imagining how to rizz you up before you two were ever dating. "Y/n thinks you're cool" "really?" He lights up at the mention of you "he does think you're kinda werid tho" he pouts disapointedly, will be whining about this

You're like another piece of candy! You're not escaping him. You thought you were allowed to leave? No. "Y/n we need you on this" "alright" "I should go too" he raises his hand popping another candy into his mouth "he can solve this himself" "well I can make it so they're right back here in secounds" "whenever I go out with you the minimums like 3 hours" you cringe remembering the holes he digs into your wallet. "That's irrelevant!"

If you ever did manage a task alone, he'd be annoyed for the rest of the day, so annoyed he actually opens his eyes to glare at people. "30 minutes" "would have been a few secounds if you took me with you" you sigh kissing his forehead "I'm sorry I didn't bring you it would have been too boring for a great detective like you" he proudly huffs "well it would have been fine since it would be with you" will make you tell him how it went and it'll always end with him saying "I knew it! This is why you should bring me"

He does get hurt sometimes, but when he does, it's just a small scab at most. Never the less you still treat him. "Don't give me the teddy bear ones those are for babies!" "They fit you're aesthetic, though." "they do not!" Applying the bandage carefully, you watch him lift his pant leg higher to reveal another small bruise. "Are you serious?" "Well were already here" does like looking at your handiwork from time to time.

Wants you to stay up and tell him stories and is pretty understanding when you say you're too tired to. "Y/n! Are you up to read 12 angry men?" "Ranpo I'm heading straight to bed" you rub your eyes sluggishly, walking past him to change out of your clothes to something more comfortable. "Alright, but you owe me more pages than usual" "deal" he plops onto you as you cover yourself with the blanket. He doesn't even attempt to gain spoilers or read ahead if this happens. He really likes hearing your voice,trying to act out certain characters. He might even ask questions he knew the answer to just to hear more of you. "Wait, so why'd he agree?" "Because that guy's thinking about his son throughout the conversion by putting his past with his son behind him he accepts the fact the kid on trial isn't his son and shouldn't be found guilty" "he should've just agreed when everything else got debunked" "yea well sometimes stuff like that holds someone back"

"Do you like wine?" "No" "?!" How did you guys even date? Wait nevermind besides that wine thing, you're pretty great 10/10, not returning

He would use his ability to quite litterally sweep you off your feet. Feeling the sudden decrease in weight, you feel as if you're floating on air. "What the-" he casually grabs something out the fridge "that's the last one" "that's why I stopped you" sometimes he'd just leave you floating for an extra 5 secounds, gracefully hold your hands and and help you down. "Can't have you bursting your head open" "I was two feet off the ground" he sighs, you pull him close kissing his cheek "thank you for saving my fall Chuuya" and that's why he does it often

He does get a bit cranky, but it's usually when he has a bad day. He likes bad days if you're at the end of them, though. You'd always let him sleep somewhere or stay up and watch you try to open wine for him and fail or succeed. "Finally!!" You popped open the bottle with the Cork flying out. "Wait, where'd it go-" hearing a small thud, you see the cork crack the floor due to its sudden change of what seems to be weight. "There's a tool for that." he pulls out the drawer and shows you it nonchalantly, "but that was kinda impressive"

"I wanna get a dog" "we should get married." The guy would be on the brink of tears. A dog? And you two are living together? He's gonna love that dog. Unfortunately, that dog mostly followed you around. It likes him, but the millisecond you're there that dog lays with you,sleeps with you, he's starting to get jealous of both you and the dog! You still catch him petting it going. "You're so fluffy! Who's a good boy who's a good-" the dog sees you and walks toward you it's tail wagging .How are you fluffy?" There'd be such a defeated look on his face

Definitely would be judgemental and then do some strange shit. You'd catch him dancing in the halls? Nothing to see here, only him getting slightly upset you didn't say anything. Pulling out every product known to man to bathe the dog, it's pretty adorable. You still don't say a thing, only smiling when you see it, still a bit annoyed you didn't say anything As soon as he catches you posing with his clothes...he's flattered time to make fun of you. "What are you doing" you turn around smoothly "Why I'm Chuuya Nakahara of the port mafia" you moon walk over to him "that is not how I introduce myself" "yea you introduce yourself by trying to show off your taste in wine to someone that hates it" "you worked at a liquor store!" "I dont have to drink wine to work there" you take off his coat to put it back, but he quickly slides it back on "keep it on for a while I wanna savor this"

You taught him what a flash game is. "OK so then this guy wants uhhh" "oh my god its Wally" "WHERE" unironcally so emerged in papa's games its aggressively odvious you two aren't working, you're are lucky you specialize in speedrunning paper work the secound half of the work days basically just you two getting bullied by the food critic

He's pretty shy for a lover infact when you start dating, he still feels like a friend more than a boyfriend. So when you ask him out, expect him to hide away somewhere nervous he might say something werid, he'll suck it up for you though! He's got this! It's just a museum! He can- you held his hand, and his confidence is down the drain. How he managed to keep composed is a miracle. Surprisingly for him, he didn't do anything he'd think would embarrass him in the future. He's definitely gonna ask to go on more dates in the future.

You try to help him with tiger matenence. Including getting loads of dirt out of his paws and even splinters sometimes "Alright ready" "I never will be for AH-" he winces pulling away, but you hold out his arm "you're fine lemme put on a bandaid" they do feel nice after you clean then though a bit numb

Attempting to teach him games will get him to teach Kyōka. "Y/n would you like to play quack diddly oso ?" "You know how to play that? I thought it was too old" "Atsushi taught me" you decide to ask him about it. He would get a bit embrassed, his mind racing about what you'd do or say. "Maybe I should try and teach her numbers too" he sighs in relief leaving you a bit confused but you infact did teach her numbers, a horrible day for Ranpo in particular as she and you easily beat your record of 57 with him. You didn't need her approval for dating Atsushi, but you still got it because of some children's games

You wouldn't be surprised by how mushy he could get. He'd overthink about the dangers you two face being apart of the Ada. He'd get trembaly grabbing onto your hands for their warmth. "I'll be fine. I'm more worried for you" "But what if you get hurt cause of me!" "I gladly will" "That's the issue!" He grabs your shoulders."What if you-" "Then yosano will take care of me" You pull him close, letting him calm down. "You're hopeless." "I won't regret a thing"

[toadbreath]

the sun after the storm;

john mactavish is alive. simon visits him in the hospital, but something is wrong. johnny doesn't remember.

☀︎ w.c: 3,9k

☀︎ pairing: ghost x soap // simon riley x john mactavish

☀︎ rating: pg

☀︎ archive of our own: link here

☀︎ genre: angst, fluff, pining

☀︎ warnings: modern warfare 3 spoilers. writing soap's lines in a scottish accent lmao

☀︎ author's note: i haven't written a fic in ten years please be gentle and kind

What do you mean, they found him?

Simon hated hospitals. The sterile nothingness, the god-awful swishing sound scrubs made when nurses walked by, the machines beeping, the artificial plants that are there to provide a facade of comfort; the illusion of life in a building where it is so often taken. 

Third floor. Room 503.

None of that matters. Not when the man he loves is alive — the man he thought was dead for six months. The man whose ashes he gifted to the wind on that cliff as the sun set behind the ocean. None of this makes sense. Simon strides through the hospital lobby, b-lining towards the elevators.

Third floor. Room 503.

Simon’s skull balaclava is earning him some strange looks from various medical staff, but he has tunnel vision and doesn’t take notice, brown eyes locked on the glowing button that has a faded three printed on it. How many times has that button been pressed with the same urgency Simon feels in his gut? The elevator doors open to the third floor and he’s at the reception desk in four strides.  “Room 503?” he asks gruffly. 

The nurse, an older woman, furrows her eyebrows. “…Sir, visiting hours ended 5 hours ago. You can come back tomorro-“ Simon’s eyes glazed over with fury at the thought of having to spend another minute in this miserable place. He didn't have time to wait for tomorrow. Not when the man he thought he had lost forever was just down the hall. He stared at the nurse, his silence the only indication of the rage boiling up within him. His words cut through the air like a knife. “I’m not here as a visitor.”

The nurse is caught off guard by Simon’s reply. He was an intimidating man, even in civilian attire, the mask he had kept on just out of habit. She clears her throat and looks down at her clipboard to avoid Simon’s icy glare. “If you are not a visitor then what is your business here? Do you have identification on you?” She asks, flipping through papers until she finds the file for the patient in room 503.

Simon had no patience for these stupid questions. He had waited months to find out that the man he had thought was dead was alive and he wasn't going to be held up over some petty bureaucracy. “Identification?” he scoffed, the venom in his voice evident. “I don't need identification. I'm here to see John MacTavish.”

The nurse lets out a frustrated breath. “What is your relationship to the patient?” 

What is his relationship with the patient? He worked alongside MacTavish. He joked around with Soap. His chest feels warm and strange whenever he saw Johnny. Technically, they’re nothing more than colleagues, friends. There’s always been something else, though — something just below the surface that neither of them had been brave enough to act upon. Simon paused at the question and the nurse could see the uncertainty in his eyes. What was he to Soap? More than friends, less than lovers. A feeling he had never been able to name or put into words.

"We have a close relationship." he replies quietly. The fact that they had never explicitly defined their relationship made the situation even more awkward. What was he meant to say? That they loved each other deeply, but not in a manner that anyone outside the two of them had ever known? It sounded pathetic. It sounded desperate. It was true.

The nurse raised an eyebrow. "Sir, I need more information than that. I have to know who you are and how you know the patient before you can go into his room."

"I'm..." Simon started, his voice trailing off. He had known MacTavish for a few years now. He had gone to bars with him and watched him get smashed beyond belief on that god-awful scotch. He had found comfort in that Scottish accent he had grown so fond of over comms. He had spent sleepless nights staring up at the ceiling, replaying the night Johnny got shot over and over again. Everything he had done, and everything he could have done differently. Price’s words repeated in his head like a broken record: All stations, this is Bravo in the blind. Threat  neutralized. Bomb is safe. 

One KIA. 

The idiot had to go up behind Makarov and be a hero. What was that saying? Never bring a knife to a gun fight? If there was anyone that would bring a knife to a gunfight, it was Johnny. He was too stubborn, too proud. Always wanting to be the one to finish the job. That stubbornness, that pride, had gotten him killed. And Simon had to watch him die. Had to hold that cold urn of ashes and pour them out over that cliff and hold himself together long enough to not break down in front of the captain. He had spent six long months seeing Johnny in every sunset. He had spent five months avoiding sunsets altogether. 

"...I'm his partner."

That wasn't the answer the nurse was looking for, but it was the only answer that Simon could give her. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, the blood rushing in his ears. “Right,” the nurse conceded after a moment of consideration. “When you go down the hall, it’s the third door on the left.”

Simon nodded and took off down the hall without another word. He could hear the nurse mumbling something about the strange visitors in his wake, but didn't pay her any mind.

He came to a stop in front of the door to 503. It looked just like the rest of the doors in the hallway. White. Sterile. Unassuming. Simon had been waiting for this moment for half a year. Now that it was finally here, he couldn't bring himself to go in. What if he had heard wrong? What if someone had made a mistake and it wasn't MacTavish in the room? What if he got his hopes up for nothing? John MacTavish wasn’t exactly a unique name, after all. What if-

A doctor came out of the room, a clipboard in his hand. He was tall and slender, the kind of man who had a face you would never remember. He looked up, a bit startled from Simon’s unexpected presence but polite nonetheless.

"May I help you?"

Simon swallowed his nerves. "I'm here to see John MacTavish." The doctor's expression turned somber. "He's alive," Simon said, the words coming out as more of a statement than a question. “Yes, he’s alive…” The doctor says slowly, closing the door to John’s room behind him with a soft click and studying Simon’s eyes with his own. “Have you been informed of his condition?”

Condition. The word makes Simon uneasy. "His condition? What happened to him? Is he okay?" He couldn't stop the words from tumbling out. Simon was usually more collected than this, but the news of Johnny's survival was throwing him off. 

“John suffered a gunshot wound to his right temple. We were able to extract the bullet and its fragments, however…” The doctor paused, choosing his words carefully. He had given this speech many times before, but that never made it easier. “The trauma resulted in retrograde amnesia. We don’t yet know if it’s permanent. If you go in that room… it’s very likely he will not remember you.”

Retrograde amnesia. The words crack his chest open and squeeze his heart like twine. It didn't matter how hard he had trained, or how much experience he had. There was nothing Simon could do about this. No target he could eliminate. This wasn’t something Simon could fix, and that infuriated him.

"Is there anything you can do? Anything I can do?"

The doctor shakes his head. "We've tried everything. There is no telling what will happen. He is stable, and his memory might come back in time. It might not. The only thing we can do is wait, let him heal.” "But I don't understand, I... I watched him get shot, fall to the floor. I watched him die. I held him. How is he alive?" Simon's voice cracks, the memories flooding back like a tidal wave. Johnny, lying on the floor, eyes glazed over. Johnny, slumped lifelessly over his shoulder. Johnny, the ashes of his corpse blown away into the sea. "You must be mistaken. The man I buried is dead. MacTavish is dead. I held his ashes."

The doctor shook his head again. "He was pronounced dead on the scene. He was rushed to a medical facility and they were able to stabilize him enough to fly him here. There was a mix-up with the body tags, and the body you received was someone else's. The hospital called and told us who the urn belonged to. That's how we were able to contact you and inform you of the situation." The doctor pauses. "We have no record of this other person, no information about their family or who they were. The best we can guess is that the hospital was trying to save face, and they handed you the ashes of the first dead body they could find." Simon's heart sinks. How long had he spent grieving, mourning a man who was still breathing? The guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders. He felt sick. "I want to see him."

"I'm not sure if that's such a good idea-" the doctor starts, but Simon cuts him off. His hands clench into fists. The thought of Johnny waking up, alone and confused in a hospital bed is enough to make him want to rip the door off the hinges and break whatever machines had the nerve to beep so obnoxiously. “Move,” Simon blurts out, pushing his way past the doctor and opening the door to Johnny’s room, stepping inside.

The air is stolen from Simon’s lungs as soon as his eyes landed on Johnny's prone form in the hospital bed. His head was wrapped in bandages, a white gauze patch over the wound on his temple. He was asleep, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm that indicated peaceful slumber. 

He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s alive.

All those months, and he was here. In a hospital. Alive. Simon felt weak.

"Johnny?" Simon whispered, stepping forward hesitantly. MacTavish stirred, the sound of the other man’s voice unfamiliar and foreign, but soothing, nonetheless. It was comforting, like a warm cup of coffee or the smell of a burning candle. It felt like home. His eyes fluttered open, revealing a deep blue iris that scanned the room, the bright fluorescent lights temporarily blinding him. He groans softly, slowly propping himself up into a sitting position on the bed. His paper-thin hospital gown rustles, the fabric scratchy and stiff. Johnny notices the masked man standing awkwardly by his bedside. His eyes scan him slowly, taking in his dark eyes and the black fabric of his balaclava. “They send security in ‘ere?” he mutters, squinting, his voice hoarse from disuse.

"Do you..." Simon began, his voice trailing off as he pulled off his mask, running a hand through his shaggy, blond hair.

Johnny's eyes widened. He had never seen this man before, but the sight of him made his heart swell. The blond man had a heavy British accent, and scars of all shapes and sizes littered his pale face. He had brown eyes that shone like honey in the sun, his jaw strong and set with an expression of relief. The blond man's face was the most beautiful thing Johnny had ever seen, and he swallows nervously. 

"Do you recognize me?" Simon whispered, placing his hand on the rail of the bed. He could feel the tears threatening to spill over, and his vision was starting to blur. He was going to cry, and he hated himself for it.

Johnny shook his head. "Sorry, lad. Cannae say I do,” I would remember a face like that, he thinks. “Yer a familiar stranger, though."

"Familiar..." Simon echoed, his voice breaking. He could feel the knot in his throat. This wasn't fair. He was alive, and that was what mattered, but Johnny had no idea who he was. MacTavish was about to ask the stranger his name when the man suddenly burst into tears, sobbing softly.

“Oh, I…” Johnny says softly, reaching a hand out to comfort the stranger, squeezing the man’s bicep gently. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. What’s yer name?” he asks gently.

Simon's chest is on fire, and he's gasping for air. This was all wrong. All wrong. This wasn't the first time Johnny had died. The last time, it was a bullet in the head. This time, Johnny was here, alive, but Simon lost him all the same.

"Simon," he croaks. Johnny repeats the name back, his hand still gripping the other man's arm. He can feel the tears streaming down his cheeks, hot and thick, and he realizes he's crying, too, but he doesn’t know why.

“Simon…” he repeats, the name on his tongue felt like velvet, a word he could never tire of saying. Simon sniffles. Johnny looks at him expectantly, a single tear rolling down his cheek, and Simon can feel the weight of the silence pressing against his shoulders, suffocating him. “Simon. Why are ye cryin’?” he asks softly. “And why am I cryin’?” he chuckles a little, trying to lighten the mood. "Because we're both idiots," Simon laughs bitterly.

"I'm sorry, Johnny." he says, his voice hushed and solemn. “Sorry?” Johnny says, his eyebrows knitting together as he studies Simon’s face. He sits up a bit straighter. “What are ye sorry for?”

"I'm sorry because I..."

Simon's voice trails off. He can't look Johnny in the eyes. It's like staring into the sun. Johnny leans forward, his hand sliding down Simon’s bicep to his forearm, the cool feeling of leather under his palm as he goes. The blond man flinches, and the Scotsman feels a sharp stab in his gut.

"Yer wearing my tags," he murmurs.

"What?" Simon looks down at his chest, where Johnny’s silver dog tags hang unceremoniously on top of his black hoodie. They had become a sort of talisman for him, and he had worn them every day since Johnny's death, never taking them off once.

"Right." he breathes, his fingers brushing against the metal, a nervous habit — he often found himself clutching the only thing he had left of his best friend. 

"I must mean somethin' tae ye," Johnny says quietly, his Scottish brogue rolling off his tongue.

"You mean everything to me," Simon whispers, his voice cracking.

Johnny feels like his breath has been stolen. The weight of those words hit him harder than he expects, and his head spins.  He looks at Simon, his eyes filled with curiosity, the tears on his cheeks drying. "Tell me about myself. B’fore, I mean. What was I like?" he asks, and it's more a request than a demand. His eyes linger on his dog tags around Simon’s neck; Simon’s own are tucked underneath his shirt. 

Simon can feel the lump in his throat returning. "Well," he says, swallowing hard. "You were — are —stubborn, and brave. Always getting yourself into trouble. You never asked for help, and you had a horrible habit of drinking alone. You always tried to finish the job, and never trusted anyone but yourself. Loyal to a fault, one hell of a friend. You're also an insufferable idiot who has no regard for his own safety. A total dumbass. A bloody moron, really. And you know what else? I loved you, you Scottish bastard. I loved you, and I thought you were dead. Do you know how long it's been? Six months, Johnny. Six months, and now you're here, and you don't even remember me, and I can't even be mad. I’m not allowed to be mad because you're alive, you’re alive, and it's all that matters, but I lost you all the same, and it fucking hurts, you son of a bitch."

The words came out faster than Simon could stop them, and now he was gasping, tears pouring down his face, his cheeks burning, the air leaving his lungs and being replaced with something cold and empty. He hadn’t realized how angry he was, how angry he had been all these months. The anger he had buried deep, and let fester inside him. 

Johnny just stared at him, his eyes wide. “Love?” he whispers incredulously.

"Oh, shit," Simon mutters. His face burns red, and he wants to turn and run away, pretend he had never been here, never said any of those things, but he's frozen, and Johnny is looking at him with those stupid gorgeous blue eyes and it's all Simon can do to hold himself together. 

"We weren’t just friends, were we?” Johnny whispers, his hand tightening ever so slightly on Simon’s forearm. Simon is silent. The answer is obvious.

Johnny nods. "And... we never got tae say it, did we?"

"No," Simon replies, his voice a strained whisper.

"That's why yer here."

"That's why I'm here," Simon echoes, his voice a whisper. Johnny swallows, his mouth dry. "When did ye know?” he asks softly, his eyes locked on Simon's.

"That I loved you?"

"Aye."

Simon is quiet. He doesn’t remember a time when he hadn’t loved Johnny. It had always been there, a feeling just below the surface, a constant presence. He had never given it a name, but it was a feeling that he couldn’t deny, even if he wanted to. He remembers the day he had realized how he felt, the moment when his feelings had finally made sense.

It was late summer, and they had just finished a mission. Price had gone off somewhere, and it was just him and Johnny sitting together in a shitty motel room. They were exhausted and sore, their bodies aching, and Johnny was nursing a few scrapes and bruises from when he had taken a nasty spill off a building. Simon had a concussion, and his eyes were bleary. Johnny had gotten up to grab the first aid kit and started to clean up Simon's wounds, a task that required a lot of careful concentration, which he did with a furrowed brow and his nose scrunched up. Johnny's fingers were gentle as he dabbed at the blood, his touch warm and reassuring. That was the first time Simon had felt comfort in years. That was the first time Simon had felt safe.

"Since forever."

Johnny takes a shaky breath. "Do ye still?"

"Are you kidding me? I never stopped."

"And if I can't remember? If I never remember? Will ye love me then?”

"Always," Simon replies without hesitation.

Johnny feels his heart swell at the reply. He smiles, his cheeks flushed pink, and the corners of his eyes crinkle. "Then I think I could learn tae love ye again," he murmurs, his eyes searching Simon's face.

"Again?" Simon echoes.

"Again," Johnny replies.

Simon laughs. It's a hollow, bitter laugh, but it's a laugh nonetheless.

“I cannae explain it,” Johnny whispers. “I have no memory of ye. But when I woke up and saw ye in this room — I felt *warm*. It’s like my nervous system recognized ye. And I…” He sighs and pulls out a small sketchbook from his bedside table, flipping through the pages. There’s lots of little doodles, like the view from his hospital room window, stray cats, food he’s eaten, nurses, the sunset, but there's also a few sketches of a handsome blond man, and a page entirely dedicated to the curve of his jaw, the scars on his face, and the shape of his lips. "I think I drew ye, or wanted tae.” he murmurs. “It’s kinda cool, drawin’ a stranger and havin’ him show up tae my room the next day. Ye think I should draw a million dollars next?”

Simon is stunned, and an amused sound escapes his lips. Johnny had drawn him. He had drawn him, and he hadn't even known his name. "I didn't know you could draw," Simon says quietly, his cheeks burning. "I dinnae either,” Johnny chuckles. “But I had tae pass the time somehow.” He smiles. "I guess we had somethin' important. If I was able tae draw a handsome face like that when I cannae remember my own birthday." Johnny closes the sketchbook and places it on the bed.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember,” he says softly. “It doesn’t mean what we have is gone. It just means I get to fall in love with ye all over again.” Simon blinks, unsure of how to respond. He had never considered the fact that Johnny might have fallen for him too. He had never even entertained the idea that his feelings could have been reciprocated. Simon had spent so much time pining after the other man, trying to suppress his feelings, that he had never stopped to consider that Johnny might have been struggling with the same inner conflict.

"We fell in love twice," Johnny says softly, his cheeks flushing pink.

"Fell in love twice," Simon repeats. "What a pair we make, huh?" he chuckles, his voice thick with emotion.

"Aye," Johnny says softly, smiling. "Ye think we could fall in love a third time?"

"Maybe," Simon says, a faint smile on his lips. "Try not to get shot again, though, yeah? Really pissed me off the last time.” Johnny chuckles and grins. "I'll do my best, sunshine."

"Sunshine?"

"Aye. That's what ye remind me of. Ye make me feel warm."

"I'm not much of a sunshine."

"Maybe yer right,” Johnny sniffs, studying Simon carefully. “Yer a…” Simon raises an eyebrow. "I think yer more like a storm."

"A storm."

"Aye, a storm. All rain and thunder and lightning. Yer beautiful, but ye have a temper."

"You've only known me for thirty minutes," Simon says, laughing.

"And I know that ye've been cryin’," Johnny replies, reaching up to gently wipe a tear from Simon's cheek. "But storms clear the skies, and bring the sun after. Ye've been cryin' and yer still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Maybe that's a sign."

"A sign?"

"Aye. That maybe I was meant tae find ye again. Maybe that's what I'm meant tae be. The one who reminds ye to come out and play when it's stormin’."

Simon stares at Johnny, his cheeks burning red. "Johnny..." he whispers.

"That's my name, lad," he murmurs, smiling softly. “Don’t wear it ou-“

Simon leans forward and presses his lips to Johnny's. It's a tentative kiss, a gentle meeting of lips. The world seems to stop. Simon can feel the tension leaving his body, the knot in his throat loosening. It's like he's finally breathing for the first time and he can’t get enough. His hands move to cup Johnny's face and his heart feels full and heavy in his chest.

Johnny kisses back, his lips moving slowly and softly against Simon's. He can taste the salt from Simon's tears and the faintest hint of something else — mint and coffee and a scent that is distinctly Simon. It's familiar, even if he can't place it, and Johnny finds himself clinging to it.

The two of them pull apart slowly, and Johnny is grinning.

"That was some kiss," he says, his cheeks flushed pink. "I could get used tae it."

"You should," Simon whispers, smiling. 

[shaunamilfman]

forever is the sweetest con

Summary: "You know you should be angry when your girlfriend mentions that she kind of wishes your best friend was also here on your date. But if you're honest with yourself, which you rarely are, you kind of wish she was too. Things have been different with Nat in the last year since you and Lottie got together; Just how different, is the question."

A/N: Lottienat x reader! Cowboy Like Me part 2. You don't strictly need to have read Cowboy Like Me to read this, as long as you know that Lottie is your girlfriend and Nat is your best friend.

“God, Nat. It's only 2 PM,” You say teasingly as you slide onto the barstool across from her. “Already hitting the bar?”

“Already hitting the bar?” Nat mocks in a high-pitched voice as she rolls her eyes, but you can see just a hint of a smile appear as she looks up from the glass she's cleaning. 

You prop your head up on your hand as you set your backpack on the seat next to yours. “Busy day?” You ask. 

Nat gives you a crooked grin as she shakes her head. “Mmm, no. But we had–” 

“Always taking up seats from paying customers, ” Your boss Paul complains as he walks in from the back. You make a show of looking at him and slowly looking around the empty bar, a few regulars strewn about drinking in silence and a man dressed in a suit passed out on the other end, before looking back at him. He grumbles in irritation before adding to Nat, “If you're gonna sit here and talk on my money she better order something.”

Nat holds her hands up placatingly before giving you a questioning look. You hum thoughtfully as you look at her before asking, “Can I get some water?” Nat snickers quietly as Paul storms off to the back. She hands you the glass before walking off to wake the drunk businessman up. 

You sit at the bar doing coursework for the next few hours, making sure to pointedly take a sip from your water every time Paul walks out to glare at you. He storms out at 5:59 PM with a smug look on his face, certain he's going to be able to tell you off for it, only to see you smiling innocently as you pour a drink with your backpack hidden behind the bar.

Bartending wasn’t ever something you saw yourself doing, especially working for a man like Paul at his shitty dive bar, but you can’t deny how much you enjoy doing it. Admittedly, that could be because you're working with your best friend. You’d think now that you’re living together you’d be sick of seeing her all the time, but honestly, you think you might be seeing her less than ever. Between Nat working full time and your course load, you barely saw her until you decided to start picking up shifts.

Your girlfriend Lottie stopped by almost as often as you did, happy to sit at the bar when your shifts overlapped to monopolize both of your time. You couldn’t deny her efficiency. You think it might be the only reason that Paul puts up with you doing homework at the bar, as your girlfriend throws enough free money at him when she’s here that he tolerates your presence in order to keep her coming. It certainly wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart, as you all agreed he didn’t have one.

Lottie was initially less than pleased with the change. She knew you were going to have to get a job, but she found the hours you were working to be rather irritating. She'd had some… rather convincing arguments about why you should get a retail job instead, but you managed to hold strong on that particular decision. It had grown on her after a while as she rather enjoyed the sight of you in a black button-up. Besides, she'd missed Nat too and seemed oddly excited to see her as well. 

It has surprised you how much Lottie grew to love Nat, but you certainly weren't going to complain. You'd worried a lot about Lottie and Nat not getting along once the nature of your relationship with Lottie changed, but all of your worry was for naught. In fact, they seemed to enjoy ganging up on you together almost as much as they enjoyed hanging out with you. Overall you were pretty pleased with the situation, even if Lottie had started abandoning some of your study sessions when she got bored to go hang out with Nat instead. You never could get Lottie to focus on any one thing for too long at a time. 

Besides, it made you feel a lot better knowing that Nat wasn’t walking home that late by herself all the time when you weren't working– you didn’t exactly live on the best side of town. Your girlfriend offered to let both of you move into the large two-bedroom apartment her father is renting for her, why he thinks she’ll need that much space you’ll never know, but Nat full out refused to accept it. You of course would never leave Nat to have to move in with some random ass roommate who would more than likely murder her as she didn’t exactly make an imposing figure.

…

Still, as you curl up next to Lottie in the one bed you brought from home with the temperature as high as you can afford to keep it you curse both Nat’s pride and your loyalty. Nat clears her throat awkwardly and you peer over Lottie’s shoulder to look at her. “I can go sleep on the floor–” Nat starts.

“No,” You and Lottie say in unison, rolling your eyes at Nat. Nat grumbles quietly as she buries her head in her pillow, seeming a little uncomfortable on the other side of the bed. Now that you've gotten a good look at her you notice how cold she looks. 

You and Nat had gotten used to cuddling together for warmth since you’d moved in, and you’re nearly kicking yourself for forgetting about her. You think guiltily of all the times she must have shivered across from you while Lottie was staying over.

“You're shivering,” You accuse, shifting up on your elbow to get a better look at her. Lottie makes a displeased noise as you pull away, her eyes blinking open as just the hint of a pout graces her face. “Come here,” You say, moving the arm wrapped around Lottie's back to tug at Nat's arm. 

“I'm good here,” Nat says. 

“Nat,” You groan. “You're obviously cold, just come here.”

“I'm not even cold,” Nat lies, badly. If it wasn't so dark you'd be able to see the blush spreading across her face at the idea of cuddling up to the two of you 

“Don't be a baby,” You mutter, tugging at her arm again.

Nat scoffs. “I am not being a baby,” She defends immediately as her head snaps up from her pillow. 

“That's what someone who's being a baby would say,” Lottie says wryly. 

Nat sputters for a response before groaning in irritation. You can faintly hear the sounds of her cursing both of you out under her breath as she scoots closer. You bury your head back into Lottie's shoulder, the tips of your fingers brushing against Nat's body as you wrap your arm back around Lottie. Lottie makes a contented noise as she's pressed between your body and Nat's side

It's quiet for a long moment before you add, “Now, was that so hard?”

You hiss in pain at the pinch that gets you from Nat, grumbling quietly as she snickers.  “You never quit while you're ahead,” Lottie murmurs against your ear. 

“Mm. No,” Nat agrees, the smile evident in her voice. 

“Fuck both of you,” You mutter. 

“Fuck both of you,” Nat and Lottie both mock, just a second out of sync. Nat immediately starts cracking up, and you can feel Lottie shake with silent laughter. 

“Oh, whatever,” You mutter, pushing against Lottie's shoulder as you pretend to move away. 

“No,” Lottie whines, her arm tightening around your back as she pulls you closer. “Cruel and unusual punishment.”

“How quickly you give in,” Nat accuses wryly. 

“It's not my fault Y/N went nuclear,” Lottie complains.

“Mhm,” Nat murmurs. “Sure.”

Your eyes slip shut to the quiet sounds of their bickering, content to drift off in the comforting weight of Lottie’s arms.

You catch Nat’s eyes over Lottie’s shoulder in the morning, giving her an amused look. Nat’s face creases in confusion for a moment before looking down at her arm. Her face flushes in embarrassment as the realization of her position sets in. It seems that she’s found herself spooning Lottie at some point in the night. She glances at you guiltily as she scoots away, clearing her throat as she slides out of bed and walks off to the bathroom. You laugh quietly as you see the amused look on Lottie’s face. She’d pretended to still be asleep to spare Nat the embarrassment, but you had no such qualms.

…

Nat groans as she walks into the room, her nose scrunching up in distaste. She quickly replaces it with a feigned smile as Lottie glances over at her, upper body damp and covered in soap in her attempt to wash the dishes. Nat leans against the counter next to you as she murmurs, “Is Lottie trying to make breakfast again?” You nod solemnly as you choke down another bite of burnt toast. You slide the plate with your runny eggs over in front of Nat as you quickly make your exit to go get ready for class. 

You ignore the sound of her frantically trying to convince you to come back as you start brushing your teeth, effectively leaving Nat to her fate of either finishing Lottie’s cooking or upsetting her. You spit your toothpaste out with a sigh of relief as the taste is finally washed out of your mouth. You love your girlfriend, truly, but you wish you could ban her from ever entering a kitchen again. Nat shoulder-checks you on the way out, glaring at you as she rushes to brush her teeth too. the smug look you send her only seems to irritate her more, but you take the narrowing of her eyes as a sign to get the fuck out of there.

You press a quick kiss against Lottie’s cheek as you grab your bag and rush out the door. You don’t quite feel safe from Nat’s wrath until you're on the bus towards college, but even then you know she’s just going to get you when you least expect it. As the sweet taste of the granola bar you stuffed in your bag for emergencies fills your mouth, you can’t deny that it was worth it. As you pull your bag out in the lecture hall to find that every single pen, pencil, or highlighter has been taken from your bag you start to wonder how true that statement was. You can’t deny that Nat moves quickly. 

…

“Hey, Y/N,” Nat calls out as she enters the kitchen. You hum in acknowledgment but don't look up from your textbook. Your eyes were starting to cross from the strain, but you only had a few pages left. “What is this?” Nat asks as she flops down in the seat across from you. You glance up to see Nat holding a toothbrush. 

“A toothbrush,” You offer helpfully, hiding your grin as you look back down at the textbook. 

“I know that,” Nat mutters irritably, a hint of fondness still peeking through despite herself. “I also know that there are three toothbrushes in our bathroom and only two people living here.”

“Maybe I bought a second toothbrush.”

“And it just happens to be purple, Lottie's favorite color?” She questions. 

“Heliotrope,” You murmur distractedly, finally giving up on finishing your reading. “Lottie's favorite color is Heliotrope.”

“What's the difference?” Nat asks wryly, holding the toothbrush up to the light to examine the color. 

You shrug. “Fuck if I know.”

“And the clothes in the closet? Those just happen to be yours too?” 

You close the textbook with a soft thud as you lean forward and rest your head on your hand. “Something you want to talk about, Natty?” You tease. 

The grin on your face slowly fades at the unreadable look on Nat's face. You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to address it before saying “She can stay over less if it's bothering you, Nat. We can start staying at her place more.”

“No, no,” Nat says quickly, almost a little panicked. “That's not it, exactly. I just…” She trails off. She looks a little frustrated as she buries her head in her hands with a loud sigh.  “I dunno it’s kind of lame, I guess.”

“Nat,” You say softly.

She pulls her hands away as she looks at you, hair messy from where her hands were touching it. “Don’t you and Lottie think it’s like… super lame that I’m here all the time? Three’s a crowd and all that?”

“Hey,” You say soothingly, reaching forward to grab Nat’s hand. You eye the toothbrush that Nat’s dropped on the table at some point, making a note to buy Lottie a new one. What Lottie doesn’t know won’t hurt her. “You're my best friend, Nat. I’ll always want you here.”

“What about-”

“Lottie does too,” You interrupt, giving her hand a firm squeeze. “I know she does. Lottie’s not shy, remember? You’d know if she didn’t like you.” Nat nods slowly as she considers what you said. 

“Besides, if I had a problem about anything it would be you spooning my girlfriend every night,” You tease. Nat gives you a weak glare.

“Shut the fuck up,” She mutters, voice tinged with embarrassment. “It’s cold.” You give her an amused look, not even dignifying that with a response.

Her eyes slowly fall onto your clasped hands. You watch curiously as a blush slowly appears on Nat’s face. She pulls her hand away suddenly, clearing her throat awkwardly.

“Good talk,” She mutters as she stands up and walks off. You can’t help but laugh. Nat’s allergy to emotional conversations was well-documented at this point.

“Love you too!” You call out, hearing Nat make a vague noise in response.

…

“Y/N?” Nat calls out as she pops her head into the doorway. You clear your throat awkwardly as you peek your head around the shower curtain.

“Yeah?” You shiver at the rush of cold air that greets you, already mourning the loss of warm water.

“Have you seen my hoodie? The Yellowjackets one?” She asks, looking a little frustrated.

You pause. “I… I can’t say that I’ve seen it in a while,” You say guiltily, trying not to look at the pile of clothes you’ve left on the floor. Nat’s eyes narrow immediately, knowing you well enough to tell when you’re lying.

“Is that right?”

You nod, feigning the most innocent look you can.

“So it’s not going to be in your hamper?” Nat asks dryly.

You grin smugly as you shake your head. Nope, definitely won't be there. You think. Nat seems surprised at your sudden confidence, leaning against the door with her arms crossed as she considers the situation. You think you’d almost get away with it if it wasn’t for the sudden giggle behind you.

You stiffen immediately as you glance back to give Lottie a dirty look. She sticks her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout in an attempt to look cute as she steps closer, but the immediate change in her expression as she gets hit with a face full of water from the shower head she’s on eye level with does little to further her agenda. You snicker quietly as you turn back to face a shocked-looking Nat. 

“Has– has Lottie been there the entire time?” She asks in disbelief. You shake your head innocently.

“Lottie? Why would Lottie be here?” This time when Lottie giggles you can’t deny your urge to join, making Nat sigh in exasperation. Lottie wraps her arms around your stomach as she presses up against your back.

“Water’s going to get cold,” Lottie complains in your ear, pressing a kiss against your neck. You and Nat both agree without words to not acknowledge the way the top of Lottie’s head sticks out above yours. Nat finally glances down at the floor in an effort to hide her embarrassment, her cheeks flushed red at the thought of what she’s interrupted when she finds her hoodie lying amongst your and Lottie’s discarded clothes. Nat scoffs as she steps forward and snatches the hoodie out of the pile, turning around and stomping out of the room.

You share a wide-eyed look with an amused Lottie who seems overjoyed to have you to herself again. Just as you're about to turn around to face her you can hear the sound of Nat’s thudding footsteps as she walks back in. Nat, somehow even more flushed than before, tosses your bra back into the pile of clothes on the floor. “It was– it was– hoodie. In the hoodie,” She sputters, practically running out of the room in her haste to leave.

…

Going to a planetarium wasn't exactly your idea of a good time, but the tickets were free and you were broke. Besides, you knew Lottie would love that shit and you were right as always. Admittedly you had a different idea in mind upon realizing you were the only ones in the theater, but Lottie was far too happy watching the constellations appear. She'd even made a little game of making you guess them, but you think she mostly just enjoys knowing things you don't. 

“And that one?” Lottie asks fondly. You eye it critically, trying to see it abstractly but failing hard. 

“A branch?” You offer helplessly. Lottie's face lights up as she giggles, burying her head in your neck to muffle it. She pulls her head back, still shaking with silent laughter to look at you. Her hair is messy and her forehead is red from where she was pressing it against your shoulder.

“A branch?” She asks, pressing a hand against her mouth as she tries not to lose it.

“Yes! Look at it, Lottie. There’s the stick,” You defend amusedly, pointing at the screen. “And then it branches off. Therefore, branch.”

“That’s Taurus,” She says quietly, a smile splitting her face. “The bull.”

“That’s bull!” You mutter, sending Lottie into another round of laughter. “That’s more ridiculous than the stick.”

“You’ve got to look at it-”

“Abstractly, I know,” You quote wryly. You’ve been losing this battle for the better part of an hour. “Where’s Nat when you need her? She’d see the branch too.”

“Nat thinks the curtains are just green,” Lottie points out. “Not sure if you want her on your side.” You scoff, going to defend her before slowly relaxing back against your seat.

“Yeah,” You breathe out, defeated. Lottie grins smugly, squeezing your hand affectionately as she revels in her victory. She leans her head against your shoulder as the slide show moves on– you understand why the tickets were free now– happy to be here together even if you feel like something is missing.

“Is it weird that I wish Nat was here?” Lottie asks quietly after a few minutes. You lean your head on top of hers as you consider it. Your first instinct is to be offended: your company isn’t enough to entertain your girlfriend? But after you move past your initial hurt you strangely find yourself agreeing with her. You kind of wish Nat was here too. It was kind of strange to realize it, given that Lottie was the only person you’ve hung out with without wishing Nat was also there. Nat’s been your best friend just about as long as you can remember, but you do think that things have been different lately.

You sigh, giving Lottie an embarrassed smile as you say, “I tried to invite her.”

Lottie giggles quietly, giving you that secret little smile she saves just for you. “Mmm. And how'd that go?”

“She laughed in my face, ” You admit with a shrug. You knew better than anyone that this wasn't really Nat's scene– it wasn't really yours either– but you'd still been a little sad when she declined. 

“Sounds like Nat,” Lottie comments, letting the moment go as she turns back to the screen. “And that one?” You groan.

…

You and Lottie laugh quietly at each other as you stumble into the doorway, not wanting to separate long enough to walk properly into the door. Lottie nearly takes the both of you down as her foot catches on the doorframe, sending both of you careening into the room. You curse quietly under your breath as your back hits the side table, Lottie bumping into you and further pressing you into the corner currently digging into you. Lottie quietly laughs her way through an apology, hands running up the back of your jacket as she checks for ‘damage’.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lottie murmurs, not looking at all sorry. She slips her hands up the back of your shirt, making you jump as her cold fingertips make contact with your bare skin. You gently tug at the neckline of her shirt as she leans down to kiss you, your hand sliding up to cup the back of her neck. 

She pulls back with a gasp as your fingers tighten in her hair, her fingers flexing against your back as she tilts her head back to lessen the sting. You chuckle at the slight flush on her face as you lean up to attach your lips to her neck. She makes a pleased noise at the action, pulling you flush against her as she tilts her head back further. 

You're overcome with fondness as she rubs circles on your back with her thumb as you kiss your way across her neck. She lets out a loud moan as your teeth come into play, nipping gently at her neck. “Y/N,” She murmurs suddenly, pulling away with a guilty look on her face. “Is Nat asleep?”

“What? No,” You say dismissively, trying to move back to Lottie's neck. Lottie takes a step back with an amused look on her face as she looks down at you. 

“Where is she then?” She asks, grinning as if she's caught you in a lie. 

“It's Friday,” You remind her. “Nat's working tonight.”

Oh, She mouths, looking surprised. She gets over it quickly as her face lights up. She grabs your hand and laces your fingers together as she drags you off to your bed, pointedly ignoring your laughter as you eagerly follow behind her. 

You wrinkle your nose at the smell of Lottie's cigarette as you bury your face further in her chest in the hopes of escaping it. Lottie strokes your hair with her free hand with a murmured sorry as she laughs out clouds of smoke. You'd never really gotten the taste for them yourself, too bitter and chemically to ever hold your attention, but you couldn't help the nostalgic feeling that came over you whenever that acrid smell filled the air. 

Suddenly you were 13 again, coughing your way through the pack of cigarettes Nat had nicked from her dad. You hadn’t been the most enthusiastic about the idea to start with, but you’d been goaded into many things at the sight of Nat’s crooked grin. Nat had always seemed so cool, larger than life even, ever since you were kids. You hadn’t– and still haven’t– ever seen a kid as intimidating as Nat seemed back then. Sometimes you think you’d do anything she asked of you as long as she watched you with that proud grin of hers afterward; When you're being honest with yourself you know that you would.

You got so sick afterward that you've never touched another one since, but Nat was never able to kick the habit. You'd spent many a cold winter day leaning up against a brick wall trying to pull your jacket impossibly closer as you talked with Nat as she smoked. You lived for those quiet moments shared only between the two of you. You’ve always been the most important person in Nat’s life, you’ve never doubted that, but something about the sanctity of that space has always made you feel important. You’re never more honest with each other than you are then, as if the clouds of smoke have brought you somewhere else entirely.

You'd almost laughed the first time you watched Lottie light up, the air filled with the achingly familiar feeling of home. It was almost funny: the smell had always been a comforting reminder of Nat– a way to bring her with you no matter where you went– so of course Lottie would be a smoker too. It felt like fate, sitting on Lottie Matthew’s porch as she lit up the same cheap brand that Nat smoked. You suspected Lottie probably stole them, but you never cared enough to ask. You'd let them have their secrets, they always came to you when they were ready. 

You were startled out of your thoughts by the sound of the door opening, you and Lottie sharing a panicked look as you both stumbled your way out of bed to pull your clothes back on. “Guys?” Nat calls out cautiously as she softly shuts the door, clearly unsure if you're awake. 

“Yeah?” You call out, trying to sound nonchalant. You quickly pull the rest of your clothes on as you join Nat in the kitchen. Your face lights up at the sight of the brown bags on the table. 

“You got dinner this late?” You ask happily. Lottie presses a kiss against your head as she slips past you to the table. You and Nat share an amused look as Lottie finds her food and digs right in, happily ignoring the rest of you as she eats. 

“Hungry, Lot?” Nat asks wryly as she slips into the seat across from her. Lottie shrugs, a hint of a smile on her face. 

“Long day. Used a lot of energy, you know?” She glances over at you when she says it and you pointedly clear your throat as you slide into the chair next to her. Nat glances back and forth between the two of you suspiciously but ultimately decides to let it go. 

You end up talking long into the night, so tired by the time you all finally stumble into bed that you can barely keep your eyes open. Whether it was by chance or conscious choice you were never quite sure, but as you collapse into bed you fall with Nat in the middle. She seems a little unsure as the two of you cuddle up to her, cheeks flushed and expression unreadable, but makes no move to stop you. If you had to pick a moment that the change in your relationship truly cemented, this was definitely it: head resting on Nat's chest as you listened to the soft thumping of her heart. 

…

You stare at Lottie open-mouthed as you try to take the situation in. “So I’m not hearing a no,” Lottie says, trying to seem nonchalant but failing as her voice shakes with nerves. She takes a slow slip from her drink– which you absentmindedly notice looks a lot like the cups from work– as she watches your expression closely. You sputter uselessly for a moment before you finally manage to get your mouth to work correctly.

“You want to date Nat?” You ask, the hurt clearly creeping into your voice. Lottie’s eyes go wide as she chokes on her drink in shock, holding one finger out to tell you to wait as she coughs out the water she swallowed wrong. Normally you’d be nearly keeled over laughing at her, but you’re so upset that it doesn’t even seem that funny. 

“No, no,” She chokes out in a panic, shaking her head frantically. “Well, yes,” Lottie says after a moment of consideration. “But like you and Nat.” She makes a vague gesture with her hands as she tries to signify all three of you together, but can’t seem to find a configuration for it and ends up dropping her hands awkwardly into her lap.

You feel all the tension in your body drain out as you slump back in your seat. You bury your face into your hands and groan, slowly dragging them down to fall limply on the table. “You couldn’t have found a better way to word that?” You ask, voice tinged with a slight irritation. Lottie shrugs apologetically, blowing you a kiss in lieu of an actual apology. With a roll of your eyes you clarify, “So you want to date both of us? Like a throuple or something?”

Lottie nods, crossing the kitchen to prop herself up on the table as she sits on the edge of it. You sigh, running your hands up Lottie’s thighs as you wrap your arms around her back. You bury your head into her stomach with a muffled sigh, nuzzling your face further against her as she starts running her fingers through your hair. “Is it really a surprise to you? I thought that you– that you felt it too. Don’t you?” She asks guiltily, a tinge of desperation entering her voice the longer she speaks. The hand she’s got resting against your shoulder clenches tightly around the neckline of your shirt as if she’s afraid you’ll leave her here if she gives you the chance.

“I've never thought about her like that,” You say slowly, as if trying to convince more than just Lottie.

Lottie sighs, fingers soothingly massaging your scalp. “You can lie to me, but don't lie to yourself,” She says softly, gently pulling your head away so she can look at you while she speaks. 

“She's… She's my Nat,” You say helplessly as you look up at her. 

Lottie nods as she cups the side of your face. “I know, Y/N,” She murmurs. She gently strokes the side of your face with her thumb as she adds, “What are you so afraid of?”

“I don't want things to change,” You admit, eyes tearing up as your vision blurs. “What if… What if it's different? What if she doesn't want–”

“What if she does, though? What if she wants it too and is too afraid to ask. Wouldn't you, if you were Nat?” Lottie interrupts, wiping your tears away with her thumb. 

“Do you really think so?” You ask hesitantly. 

“I think it's more difficult for you and Nat to see because your relationship has always blurred those lines,” She says. Your eyes widen as you quickly try to deny it but she holds a finger up to your lips. 

“I'm not saying either of you did anything wrong. I just think you've been so close for so long that you don't realize that it isn't a normal friendship,” Lottie continues, looking a little embarrassed as she adds “I was pretty jealous of your friendship before we started dating.”

You lean back against your chair, honestly stumped as you think about the implications of what she's said. Have you and Nat always been like this? “I know you were jealous when I kissed Nat at the party, but–” You start. 

“It's not just about the party,” Lottie says wryly. She's got that expression on her face that you've seen teachers use when they're talking to small children. You try not to be too offended over it. “The two of you have a way of making everyone around you seem like they don't exist. Like they don't matter as long as the two of you have each other.” Your face softens at the admission, squeezing gently at her hips. 

She smiles as she shakes her head. “You've never made me feel like that, though. Not since the party. That's why I know that Nat feels the same. You'd never be able to look past each other if she didn't.”

“Besides,” She adds with a smug grin.” I've seen the way she looks at us when you're not looking.“ 

Your eyes widen in glee. “She…” You trail off expectantly. Lottie shakes her head in exasperation. 

“She was getting more than a glance in that shower. You really didn't notice?” Lottie asks. You pause. Now that you think about it, she was getting quite an eyeful. 

The more you know. 

“So you're 100% sure that–”

“Y/N!” Lottie groans, burying her head in her hands. 

…

Nat groans in irritation as she looks over at you. “Stop doing that shit,” She accuses.

You wonder idly if you always walk this loud or if it’s your own nerves that make every step feel like it’s echoing down the street as you walk home. You think it’s probably the nerves, or at least you certainly hope it is. You glance anxiously down at your shoes as you walk just in case, wondering if Nat’s hearing it too. No, that was stupid. Cut it out. You think, shaking your head as if to clear it from your mind.

You almost want to back out of the promise you’ve made, knowing that you’ve already made enough of a fool of yourself tonight. It’s not your fault that the idea of confessing you and your girlfriend’s attraction to your best friend was driving you up the walls. Sitting on that knowledge would psych anyone out, right?

God, why did you let Lottie talk you into asking Nat about it yourself? You knew damn well that Nat wouldn’t react well if it was the both of you– she tended to strike out if she felt like she was backed into a corner, after all– but you desperately wanted Lottie’s support right now. You don’t know why you're so nervous, it’s only Nat. But that seems to be the crux of the issue: it’s Nat. 

You can’t remember the last time you’ve ever been nervous about telling her anything, and you're absolutely falling apart in the process. You know that she must know that something going on, how could she not; Nat’s always known you better than you know yourself. It’s one of the things you love most about her, the shared ability to speak without ever saying a word. 

You clear your throat awkwardly, purposely avoiding eye contact as you look over at her. You're almost thankful for the darkness as you can’t quite make out her expression, knowing that it means it’s hiding the blush you know must be present on your own face. You feel an intense flash of guilt you fear at the uncertainty on her face. You knew she had to have been picking up on your weird mood all night, but you never wanted to make her feel bad about it. Nat tugs anxiously at the sleeves of her jacket, pulling it tighter around her as if to better shield herself from the world. Nat’s always done that when something makes her feel small and insignificant. 

Fuck.

“What’s up?” You ask hesitantly. Nat stops in her tracks, watching you carefully as you stop a half-second later.

“What’s up?” She asks pointedly. “You dropped enough glasses tonight that you probably lost more than you made and now you’re doing whatever the fuck this is!”

The first thing you notice is how frustrated she sounds, and you can’t help but shrink slightly under her gaze. She’s glaring at you and you can suddenly understand why people used to jump out of her way in high school. You’ve never had that look directed at you before so it takes you a second to come to terms with it, which is the only reason it takes you so long to notice. She looks hurt. Her jaw trembles with it like she’s doing everything she can not to cry.

“I’ve… Just got some things going on, is all,” You mutter, flashing her a weak smile.

“I know that, Y/N,” Nat says with a scoff. “What I don’t know is when we stopped telling each other things.”

“Nat, I–”

“I’m not done speaking,” She interrupts. You nod solemnly. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how fucking weird you’ve been lately. You and Lottie sharing all those little looks when you think I can’t see them.”

“Yeah, that’s right!” Nat adds as your eyes widen in surprise. “I’m not fucking stupid, Y/N.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Nat,” You say gently. “I… I guess I’ll just go out and say it, yeah?” Nat nods stiffly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. You’re gracious enough to pretend that she isn’t crying, knowing that she wouldn’t appreciate being called out on it when she’s feeling this vulnerable.

“Okay,” You murmur slowly, tapping your fingers anxiously against your thighs as you try to hype yourself up. Nat smiles fondly at the gesture despite herself, glancing away so that you can’t see it just a second too late. It’s the last push you need to gather your courage together as you blurt out “Lottie and I have a crush on you.”

“What? Slow down. I didn’t catch any of that shit.”

You groan. Again? “Lottie and I… have a crush on you.” Nat makes a surprised noise, anxious hands falling limply at her sides.

“Like… Both of you? At the same time?” Nat asks aloud, clearly just voicing her thoughts. 

You watch nervously as her mind races, scuffing your shoe against the ground as you try to look literally anywhere else. She hasn’t run screaming all the way home, so it’s already going better than you feared it might. You hate when Lottie’s right: she’s always so smug about it later.

Nat slowly starts walking, still deep in thought, and you quickly speed up to fall into step next to her. You try to let her have her space to think it over, but you can't help but glance over at her every few seconds to see what she's thinking. The two of you are completely silent the rest of the walk home, and now you really do think Nat can hear your footsteps. There's certainly not anything else to distract from it. 

You curse silently to yourself, wishing you'd stuck with your initial urge to keep it to yourself. What if–

“You can say no,” You offer suddenly, the deep silence feeling like daggers piercing your skin the longer it lasts. You climb the stairs behind her as you make your way up the stairwell to your apartment. That in itself felt strange given that you'd always walked side-by-side. You figure that it could've been worse. Had the elevator been working, a first in the six months you lived for, you would've been stuck in a box with her. Small mercies. 

“What– What am I even saying no to?” Nat asks quietly as she wrings her hands. 

“Going out with us. Being our girlfriend,” You rush out, deciding it's probably beneficial to be as blunt as possible with Nat. You can tell from her sudden exhale that she appreciates it and you relax in kind. Her hands finally relax as she goes digging in her pockets for her keys, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. 

You watch her every movement carefully as you walk inside, leaning against the arm of the couch as she steps in behind you.”Can I think about it?” She asks. You nod quickly, a little too quickly you think given by the sudden twinge of pain in your neck following the action. 

“Yeah! Take all the time you need, or whatever. I'll just be here,” You trail off awkwardly as you look toward the couch. You should probably sleep on the couch, right? 

“You're not sleeping on the couch,” Nat says wryly, as if she's read your mind. You startle slightly as you whirl your head around to face her. 

“Don't fucking make things weird, idiot,” She mutters, rolling her eyes. Nat steps past you to walk towards the bedroom, but not before taking the chance to push you over the arm of the couch you've been sitting on. You land on the cushion with a soft thud as you’re left staring up at the ceiling, no worse for wear as your legs hang uncomfortably over the arm. You grumble at the sound of her laughter as her footsteps sound down the hall. 

…

You wouldn’t say the next few days were awkward, but only because Lottie made you promise not to say anything about it. Many times over the last few days you’ve caught Nat looking at you or Lottie only for her to quickly look away the second she realizes that she’s been caught. You weren’t sure whether those interactions should leave you feeling hopeful or not, as they often left you feeling quite glum, but Lottie kept insisting that “no news is good news.” 

You’ve often found Lottie’s moods to be quite infectious in the past– no one was having a good day if Lottie wasn’t– but you’ve found yourself to be curiously immune this time around. You tried not to let Nat catch you moping around the apartment, not wanting to make her feel guilty, but the more time that passed the more you began to regret speaking up in the first place. 

You’re lamenting this once again to a long-suffering Lottie who idly traces circles across your stomach as you lie on the couch with your head in her lap. “You’ve just got to give her time,” Lottie murmurs knowingly. She’s probably said this about a dozen times by now, and you’d normally get annoyed at receiving the same response every time if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve lodged the same complaints just about as many times. Your girl had the patience of a saint, but even she had to be getting a little annoyed with you by now. You feel a little guilty at the thought, especially knowing that Lottie would never say anything about it. 

It’s been so tense with everything going on with Nat lately, and the only person you really wanted to talk about it with was unavailable for obvious reasons. You’re left with a strange sense of loneliness, one that you haven’t been familiar with since you were a child. You thought you’d long forgotten what the dreadful years before Nat had moved into town were like, but you’ve found yourself stuck back in them just as easily as you had left them behind.

It made you ache something fierce as it forced you to think about how lonely Lottie must have been growing up. You wouldn’t know it from talking with her, but sometimes she gets this look in her eyes when she thinks no one is watching her. It’s only a pale reflection of the look you saw so many times on her face as a child, but it still pulls at your heartstrings. Just the thought of that resigned look on her face and dull eyes as she swung in silence during recess has you tearing up. You wish so badly sometimes that you could take it from her, that you could go back in time and push two desperately lonely children together. Still, the thought that always comes to mind is whether it would mean never meeting Nat. You’re not sure you could ever trade one for the other.

You force yourself out of your gloomy thoughts to give Lottie an apologetic look as you reach a hand up to cup her face. Lottie closes her eyes as she nuzzles into your hand, pressing her cold face against the warmth of your palm. Her expression is relaxed and open as she reclines against you, stunning even with her cheek smushed unflatteringly against your palm. She remains motionless save for the rise and fall of her chest with every breath. 

Her stillness reminds you suddenly of old statues of goddesses, untouched and immortal; The knowledge they’re made of cold marble contradicted by the strange feeling that they’d be soft if only you reached out and touched them. But she’s so much more than a mere monument: she's flesh and blood, kindness and warmth. She's filled with an endless curiosity about the world that leaves you with an awe bordering on reverence. She's a goddess in all but name, and there is no altar that you would not worship Lottie Matthews on.

As if sensing your gaze she opens her eyes to give you a toothy smile, the edge of her pointed canines peeking out just enough to make you smile in turn. You silently mourn the loss as Lottie moves her head to watch the door a moment before it suddenly swings open. Nat steps inside slowly and she looks around, seemingly feeling an equal measure of surprise and relief to see the two of you relaxing on the couch. 

“Hey,” Nat says awkwardly, a little unsure. “Could we… Could we talk about that thing you brought up the other night?” 

You glance up at Lottie who gives you a reassuring smile as she slips her hand back out from beneath your shirt. You sit up and scoot to the other side of the couch, purposely leaving Nat the seat in the middle. Nat eyes it anxiously before gathering her courage and plopping down on the seat between you. You cross your legs as you turn to face her, leaning back against the arm of the couch. Nat glances back and forth between you as if she can’t decide where to look. Lottie snickers at Nat’s indecisiveness, ironically helping her make the decision as she turns to glare at her. Lottie just grins in response, winking at you over Nat’s shoulder. Nat groans as she relaxes back on the couch, head thrown back lazily as she stares up at the ceiling.

“I’ve been thinking–” Nat starts.

“Oh no, did you hurt anything?” You interrupt, earning yourself a quick flick to your arm. You hiss at the sudden sting, giving Nat a weak glare that she shakes off easily as she continues.

“I thought it would be different when you and Lottie started dating. Most people have less time for their best friend when they get a girlfriend, y’know?” Nat exhales slowly, turning her head to face you. “Kept waiting for it to change. For you to ditch me a few times to hang out with Lottie fucking Matthews instead. But it just never happened.”

“Nat, there’s always going to be a place for you in my life. You know that, don’t you?” You hold out your hand and she slowly reaches forward to lace your fingers together. She’s got a look on her face that you’ve never seen before as she looks down at your joined hands. She squeezes your hand before turning to look at Lottie.

“And you…” Nat trails off.

“And me,” Lottie says with a perfectly feigned smile. Lottie always hides her nervousness in her hands, and you can see the way she idly picks at the skin around her manicured nails.

“You’re not at all what I thought you were, you know that?” Nat asks. Lottie looks surprised, but her smile suddenly turns genuine as a hint of a flush rises to her cheeks. “We spent nearly four years on that team and never spoke, but still I thought I knew exactly who you were: You walked around in those expensive clothes you probably bought with Daddy’s money, to store in your walk-in closet. And then…” 

Nat stops to laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “I found out you fucking stole them. From TJ Maxx of all places.”

“They have good clothes,” Lottie says unrepentantly. “You’re… You’re not who I thought you were either.”

Nat’s smile fades a bit as she asks, “Not as big of a burnout as you thought, huh?”

“No,” Lottie laughs, “I used to think you were cool, you fucking loser.”

Nat scoffs, looking back at you to playfully ask, “Are you going to let her talk to me like this?”

You shrug. “As if I could stop her. She’s got a mind of her own.”

“She can hear you,” Lottie says dryly. You hold your hands up placatingly, dragging Nat’s hand up with yours. Lottie hums in acceptance, but you have a feeling she’s going to bring it back up when you least expect it.

“Got a little off track, but uh…” Nat says, tentatively holding her free hand out for Lottie. “I wouldn’t mind dating you. Both of you, obviously.” Lottie holds her hand up to Nat’s as she compares the size of their hands, grinning smugly before she laces their hands together. 

“We should probably talk about this more,” You acknowledge, sharing a look of understanding over Nat’s shoulder with Lottie.

“Definitely,” Lottie breathes out, as she leans in toward Nat. 

Nat’s eyes are blown wide as she glances back at you as if asking for permission. You just laugh, raising your free hand to gently turn Nat’s head towards Lottie as their lips meet. You're content watching as they move against each other, Lottie quickly getting lost in the hurricane that is Nat Scatorccio. You’d almost be sympathetic if you didn’t know she was giving it almost as good as she was giving it. Your normally composed girlfriend pulls away with a quiet gasp as she loses the battle against her need to breathe. Her cheeks are flushed, and she almost seems overwhelmed. Nat turns to you with just a hint of a smirk, and you surge forward with the knowledge that you no longer have to ignore the urge to kiss it away.

…

After a few hours of actual conversation, spread out among other activities, you find yourself lying across your bed next to Nat. You’ve been watching Nat try to guess the constellations Lottie’s been tracing across her bare back for the last ten minutes, each guess more pitiful than the last. You think she’s just making them up at this point. Judging by the look of amusement on Lottie’s face, you figure that she’s definitely clocked on to that long before you did.

You stretch out lazily as you lean closer to steal a quick kiss from Nat. She smiles dreamily at you as if it still seems too good to be true. You can’t help but return the look, snuggling impossibly closer to her. “Don’t distract her,” Lottie whines playfully. Nat groans as she buries her head into the pillow.

“This is impossible,” She complains, voice muffled by the pillow. Nat sighs. “Orion?”

“Orion?” You ask in disbelief.

“I don’t know any other constellations,” Nat mumbles.

“You’d know more if you didn’t skip out on going to the planetarium,” Lottie comments wryly. You and Nat share a look as she feigns a fearful shudder. You bite lightly at her shoulder in response, laughing at the surprised yelp it earns you.

[cowboysandpilots]

Meetings and Morals (Marvey)

Warnings: Adult Language

Pairings: Harvey/Mike

Word Count: 2000

Hi, @fleuroqium here is your Marvey blurb. :) I’m so sorry this took me absolutely AGES. I really apologize, I hadn’t watched Suits in a hot minute, and I wanted to get back into it so I could write this the best I possibly could, but hey, this made it up to 2k words, so I hope it was worth the wait. ❤️

Nothing between Harvey and Mike had ever been ordinary. Even their first meeting was the strangest way they could have met. So, it stands to reason that the way romance started seeping into their partnership would be anything but ordinary and just like their first meeting, it was fast. It took Harvey only about 5 minutes to know he wanted to hire Mike, and it took him even less than that to know he was in love with him. 

The first time that Harvey noticed his feelings start to change for Mike was the moment that Mike finally decided to grow some balls and stand up to him. If it were anyone else, Harvey would've taken it as a sign of disrespect, but because it was Mike, he took it as a sign that the kid was actually listening to him and coming into his own as a lawyer that wouldn't back down. It made Harvey feel something he doesn't think he's ever felt before, butterflies. 

“You told me to fix my case; why don't you fix yours?” That's what Mike had said to him, and it had been playing over and over in Harvey’s brain for weeks. There was a bass to Mike’s voice that Harvey had never heard before, and it sent a chill up his spine.

The next time that Harvey felt those butterflies again was after a long and challenging case they had been working on. Neither of them had slept more than a couple of hours in days, and Harvey could tell that Mike was crashing. They were in Harvey’s town car, and to his credit, Mike was trying exceptionally hard to keep his eyes open. He was also leaning heavily against Harvey’s shoulder, not that Harvey minded. However, he did have to keep up appearances, so he kept shifting against Mike every few minutes, making him lift his body again, giving space between them. He couldn't let Mike think that things like this were okay, even if maybe he didn't mind it. 

“Now is not the time to sleep, rookie. You're a grown man; you should be able to wait until you get to that hole you call an apartment.” Harvey chuckles softly. 

“Leave me alone, Harvey,” Mike mumbles lowly. “I haven't slept in so long; I need this.”

Harvey couldn't get over how good Mike’s voice sounded when he was half asleep like this. As much as they had spent time together, Harvey doesn't think he’s ever heard it like this before. It was like Mike had all his walls down, he was wholly unguarded, and Harvey loved it. Mike always had walls up, considering everything that he was hiding. 

There was one more thing that Mike was hiding, something he hadn’t even told Harvey. Mike was gay. He was worried that it would change things between him and Harvey. Things had already changed between him and Trevor. He thought that Trevor was someone he could trust. They were best friends. However, when he told Trevor about his sexual orientation, Trevor had started to close himself off from Mike. It started off with little things like not inviting him to the parties that he threw. Then, he started spending more and more time over at his girlfriend, Jenny’s, house. It didn’t seem that weird at the time; Trevor was in love with Jenny; of course, he would want to spend as much time as he could with her. It made sense; however, Jenny let him know; a few weeks later, she had told him that Trevor had only started staying with her so much because he was uncomfortable around him. Mike didn't understand it at first; they were best friends. Nothing had changed between them except… Mike had come out to him. Fuck.

Mike knows that Harvey is no Trevor. In fact, he’s exponentially better than Trevor, but that doesn’t mean coming out won’t have the same outcome. Harvey had never given Mike any reason to think that he wouldn't be okay with it, but he had never given him a reason to believe that he would be either. Mike could've gone to Donna for that kind of information, but he had no guarantee that the act of him asking the questions wouldn't get back to Harvey, and that was the last thing he needed. He couldn't tell anyone. Other than his Grandma, of course. 

It doesn't take long for them to get back to Mike’s apartment, but he wishes he didn't have to leave Harvey, wants to invite him up, wishes he could, but he won’t. It would be inappropriate, and Mike just has to keep reminding himself of that. He opens up his door and gives Harvey a nonchalant goodbye before heading up to his apartment, his empty apartment. “Doesn't matter,” he tells himself; he’ll see Harvey tomorrow anyway.

Harvey had Ray drive him back to his apartment; as soon as he knows, Mike made it safely into the door. It’s a bad neighbourhood; you can never be too careful, right? When he finally makes it back to his apartment, he does nothing except get his suit off and climb into bed. He barely has time to think about anything before he’s drifting off.

It felt like only two seconds before Mike's alarm was going off again. In reality, it was at least four hours, only half of what the body actually needs, but not bad for two high-profile lawyers. He drags himself into the shower and leaves his slept-in suit strewn all over the bathroom floor. Once out of the shower, Mike picks out a new suit and decides that the one good thing he did while in the middle of the fallout with Trevor was take all of his fancy suits. He gets it on as quickly as he can and peddles through the city, narrowly missing a few cars on the busy streets before he gets to Pearson Hardman. When he makes his way to Donna’s desk because he still needs permission to enter Harvey’s office even after all they’ve been through, he notices that Harvey is nowhere to be seen. “What? I made it here before Harvey?” He grins, but Donna doesn’t even look up. 

“Wrong.” She answers immediately, making Mike’s grin disappear. “Harvey is in a meeting with Jessica this morning.”

That makes Mike’s eyebrows crease together, and it takes him a moment to talk again. “He didn’t tell me about that.”

“I forgot; you’re in charge of Harvey’s schedule. Oh no, wait, that’s me.” Donna finally looks up to smirk cheekily at Mike. 

Mike can’t think of what to say to that because she is right, and her smirk scares him, so he figures he’ll just come back when he catches a glimpse of Harvey.

***

When Harvey got to work this morning, he didn’t expect to be called into Jessica’s office, and he had half a mind to tear Donna a new one for forgetting to tell him about this. His faith in her was restored when Jessica made it known that this was a more impromptu thing. She offers him a seat which makes him uneasy, her smile, even more. 

“So, you’re in love with Mike.” She starts, just dropping that bomb right away. 

Harvey is taken aback, but he keeps his face neutral; being a lawyer has helped with that. “What makes you say that?”

Jessica only gives a humourless chuckle and shakes her head. “I’m not an idiot, Harvey, don’t treat me like one.” She offers no other explanation, but Harvey has known her long enough to know that he can’t charm his way out of this one, and if she’s asking, it’s because she already knows and has the evidence to back it up. “I was here late last night. I saw you give him a ride home, and I saw the way you looked at him when he was getting into your town car and not looking back. 

There’s the evidence. 

Harvey opens his mouth, about to plead his case, when Jessica holds up her hand and cuts him off. “But!” She starts. “I also saw how he looked at you while you were talking to Ray.” For the first time, she cracks a smile. 

This time, Harvey doesn’t hold back his surprise. “He did? How?” He knows he’s giving Jessica far too much leverage right now, but he was caught off guard. 

Jessica’s smile doesn’t leave, but it doesn’t get any bigger. This is a business meeting, after all, and the walls are made of glass, and she doesn’t answer him. “I’m not one to encourage workplace relationships. In fact, I think I actively discourage it, and I feel you have already put us in the fire with everything else you’ve done when it comes to the kid.” She levels him with a look, and once again, Harvey opens his mouth to defend himself. “I also know…” Jessica cuts in. “That telling you not to do something will only make you want to do it more, so I say, tell the kid how you feel.”

Harvey, whose mouth has been open through that entire speech, only now closes it and stands up. He wants to get out of here before Jessica changes her mind, so he gives her a nod and a “Thank you” before he rebuttons his suit jacket and makes his way back to his office, but not before stopping off at Mike’s cubicle. “My office. Now.”

Mike knows that tone; either he’s done something wrong, or the firm is in trouble, and it’s up to him and Harvey to save it. Neither of which he really wants to be on the hook for when his head isn’t into it 100%. He straightens up and quickly follows Harvey into his office. “What’s going on? What did Jessica want? Was it bad? It was bad, right?” He rambles, nervous. 

At this moment, listening to Mike ramble and freak out, he wonders why he even likes the younger man. He really causes nothing but trouble, though it is very endearing. He lets Mike pace back and forth for a few more minutes while Harvey just sits at his desk and smiles at him. That’s what gives him away. 

Mike stops, turning to Harvey for answers when he’s finally stopped talking, but all he’s met with is the dopey smile that confuses him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

God, Harvey hopes he isn’t wrong about this, that Jessica didn’t read too much into a look and steer him in the wrong direction. “This isn’t about Jessica; this is about you.” Arguably not a good way to start this conversation because the horrified look is back on Mike’s face, and Harvey has regrets. 

“Oh god, someone found out I didn’t go to Harvard, didn’t they?” He breathes, rubbing a hand over his face. “Who was it? Am I gonna go to jail?” Mike is spiralling again. 

“No, no. Relax, Rookie. Nothing like that. This isn’t even about work or Jessica.” It was kind of about Jessica, but Mike didn’t need to know that. 

Mike’s face melded from horrified to shocked and confused. “You called me in here like that to talk to me about something not work-related?” He frowns. 

“Yeah, I have a reservation at Per Se tomorrow night. I’ve had this reservation for months, so don’t be late. Harvey is sure he’ll have to buy Donna a new, ridiculously expensive handbag for the inconvenience of an uninvitation, but he’s sure she’ll understand in the name of love. “And Mike?” He says, just before he kicks the man out. “It’s a five-star restaurant, so find a better tie, okay?” If Harvey is going to confess any sort of feelings, especially romantic ones, he’s going to do it in style, even if everything will make Mike roll his eyes. 

[i-eat-worlds]

Starcross Part 4

New perspective!

Content: Conditioned whumpee, fear of punishment, multiple caretakers, food mention

Free Space, AFS Starcross, 5/5/4763

The infirmary doors hissed as Oka passed through them, two plates of food carefully balanced in both of their hands. Ziar had stayed with the new visitor overnight, and from what Veya had said, she wasn’t going to be coming up for air anytime soon. The lights were still red. She’d fiddled with the settings to let them sleep.

Since their last stop had been on Hurulose, breakfast denitely left something to be desired. They were simple mining rations, containing mostly dried fruit slices and sticks of preserved meat. Jesse, not impressed by the options, had baked some Kuliaen flatbread out of whatever ingredients she’d been able to find on the colony. “Morning,” Ziar said, looking back from the cabinets she was rooting through. Her voice was quiet to avoid waking the sleeping human. “You can set those over there.” She pointed towards the table at the front of the room.

The exhaustion on her face was obvious. Ziar was normally one of the better rested crew members, and it was odd to see them yawning so much. “Do you want me to get you some tea? Or whatever battery acid Jesse drinks?”

“Nah, I’ll be alright.” She turned towards them, heading towards the plates, and Oka narrowed their eyes.

A bandage was wrapped around her upper right arm. “What happened?” Ziar shrugged. “They got a little freaked out. It’s fine.”

Ah. Veya probably wouldn’t be happy about that. “How are they?”

“Stable. Exhausted and scared.” A beat of silence passed. “They…they’ve been through a lot, from what I can tell. When we land I’d like them to be seen by another doctor. I can pay.”

“I’ll run that by her.” The answer would probably be yes. Zarian was more friendly to those without proper affiliation. “If you need me to watch them so you can shower and spend some time with your leg o, I can watch them for a little bit.”

Ziar thought for a moment. “That would be good, yeah. How’s your Yeran?”

They made a “so-so” motion with their hand. “It’s descent. I’m no where near a native, but I can make it work.

She hummed. “Alright.” There was an uncertain pause. “They’re absolutely terried, Oka. You sure?”

They bit their lip for a second before speaking. “I’ve done this before, Ziar. I know.”

*** The weapon could tell that there was someone else, someone new in the room.

It kept its eyes closed, kept “resting” like Ziar had asked it too, of course, but it could tell. Their voice was hushed, and it couldn’t really make out what they were saying, but its stomach twisted into knots anyway. It couldn’t be anything good.

Ziar hadn’t punished it, at least not yet. She’d let it stay in the bed, with the blanket. She’d told it to sleep, to rest. The weapon had worried that it wouldn’t be able to, but the time in stasis had made it very tired. In less than an hour, it had been out like a light switch.

She’d left it mostly undisturbed, checking on it periodically, but not hurting it. It had heard her wake a while ago, but the weapon had still not been disturbed. It was being permitted to sleep in. That had never, in the history of the weapon’s existence, ever happened.

It shuddered at the thought of having to pay for these luxuries, for these mercies. It hadn’t been punished for biting yet, either. There was going to be a lot of pain in its future, and it knew that. The fact that it also dreaded it was inconsequential. The weapon had bit its better, then taken advantage of her kindness. It was what it deserved.

The conversation stopped, and it heard footsteps start to approach the bed. Despite its best efforts, it couldn’t help but go rigid.

“Are you awake?” Her voice was soft, gentle. “I’ve brought breakfast if you’re hungry.”

Food. Poisoned, perhaps, or incompatible with its digestive tract.

Slowly, it opened its eyes, the red glow of the room not overwhelming its sight. Ziar was on their left, a good meter away, keeping her distance. Behind her was someone else, a dark-skinned Sanatori who was wearing two different shimmering dangly earrings and holding a plate of food in shiny packages.

They smiled at it, in a way that almost seemed genuine. “This is Oka, (They/Them),” Ziar introduced. It froze, unsure what to do. Was there a way they would want to be greeted? What were the rules here? “I need to leave for a little while. Oka’s going to make sure that you’re okay. Ask them if you need anything, alright?”

It nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, and Oka isn’t either.” She said that a lot. The weapon wondered why she did, since it was an obvious lie.

Ziar beckoned for them to step forward, and they did, much closer than the Ziar had. “Hello, what’s your name?”

The weapon did a double take. It didn’t have a name, those weren’t for humans, for things like it. Maybe they wanted its identication number. “This Unit’s designation is KM-4682, sir.”

Oka gave it a confused look. “Okay. Can I call you Kim? Like KM?”

“You can call it whatever you want, sir.” The weapon was not permitted to have an opinion about its designation.

“It’s okay-” Ziar stepped a little closer, “-if you want to be called something else.”

It was like they were pushing it towards something, trying to get it to slip up, trying to get it trouble. Then again, it deserved punishment anyway. It had bit Ziar. “Kim is acceptable, ma’am.”

They both nodded. “If that ever changes, it’s alright to tell us,” Oka said. It sounded genuine. It couldn’t be.

The weapon was not permitted to have an opinion about its designation.

Ziar spoke with Oka in another language for a little bit, then she looked back to it. “I'll be back in a couple hours. Oka won’t hurt you.”The weapon nodded, unbelieving, and Ziar left the room. It ignored the pit in its stomach as Oka tore the rst pouch of food open. What were they going to do to it?

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