#but can be read as stand alone

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

melusines say the darndest things

Even after successfully hiding your relationship to the eyes of Fontaine's people sometimes children melusines can have loose lips and accidentally say a bit too much and cause misunderstandings

Wc: 1.2k

Cw: reader gets called mom by Ngen but treated as GN/ they/them, melusine causes a pretty big misunderstanding, ideas of having children (unspecified if pregnancy or adoption)

“Good morning, mister barista” a small Melusine calls from behind the cupboard, the little green girl tiptoes so her eyes could be seen.

“Morning Ngen, chocolate milk?” The kind man asks as he does everyday, and already knowing the answer he starts heating the milk.

“ Yep, thanks” she hops towards a table and keeps seated while kicking her feet waiting for her milk.

Soon after Arouet came with a tall glass with a little bit of foam on top and grated chocolate over “Here is your milk, do you want something to eat?”

“No, thank you” she smiles at him, making him beam, “but can I ask something?” She asks softly.

“Of course, what is it?”

“What is a mom and a dad? When I go play on the playground ladies always ask where are my mom and dad” she pouts

At the question his blood runs cold “ uhm, a mom is someone who takes care of you and comforts you when you feel scared and a dad is someone you know can protect you from anything and spoils you rotten?” The forty year old man never thought much about that but attempts to summarize it with his own experiences.

“ Oh! Then I do have a mom and a dad!” Her small eyes shine

“ Really? Good for you”

“ Yep! That makes Dr. YN my mom and Monsieur Neuvillette my dad! So that is why they sleep in the same bed then!” She clasps her fin like hands together as if she just figured out the answer to a riddle.

The base chatter that always swarmed the cafe and gave it its characteristic liveliness fell silent, the different tables all were interested in what the Melusine said.

The journalists found a fresh scoop that could be exploited for months on end, amdeven if the noblewomen would spread the information around their circles faster than they can finish editing the news, such a shame the great judge isn't a bachelor any longer but that does allow them and their husbands to try and social climb by associating with his spouse.

On the other hand the salarymen working for the palais mermonia were neither happy nor sad, simply concerned. If their boss had a fight with his lover or decided to take half a day on valentine's day or his anniversary would they have to shoulder the extra work?

“ Oh~ how cute” a pitchy and sickly sweet voice starts speaking at her, a woman with black hair and wearing a noble dress takes a seat next to Ngen “tell me more, shop owner get me a platter of macarons for the sweet girl!”

“ And a portion of madeleines!” The reporter sits on the other chair, leaving him facing the noblewoman with the Melusine on the middle

“I'm not sure… Dr. YN, I mean mom always says too many sweets are bad for you”

“ Don't worry! It's just some cookies for breakfast, I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you don't eat dessert at night”

“ Exactly as the woman says, moderation is key”

As the plate with macarons gets settled on the table first the lady pushes it towards the melusine accompanied by her questions “So, tell me what do your mom and dad do? Do they frequent a certain restaurant? Or do they read certains books?-" Before any of the cookies were grabbed the journalists pushes the macarons away with the madeline plate, the colorful sugary dots moving to one of the edges because of the force.

“ At least ask something interesting, when did they get married? How long ago was that?”

“ What is up with those useless questions? How are you even using that information?” The manicured fingers tap methodically against against the glass tables, the noblewomen who were still on the other table started muttering about the scenario

“And for what use would knowing what books they read? Readers of the gossip column need to be started with the base of the gossip, like when and how it started“

Before they can keep bickering Ngen bit on a madeleine before taking another bite of the macaron as she spoke “ I know dad really likes soup at the hotel Debord so that is why mom rented the whole place for a night for next week” the journalist mentally notes the date for later use

“ A special secret dinner? So romantic”

“ Yep, mom said they wanted a private moment when they told dad…” she keeps speaking when suddenly she seems to notice something

“ Told what??”

“ Oh, does that make me a big sister then?”

“Is that another baby set?” Neuville looks at your reflection from the bathroom's mirror, your hands holding a yellow dress with daffodil embroidery and white knit socks

“ It's from Mrs Jonquille” you rub the cotton skirt between your fingers “ it seems to be good quality too”

Neuvillette walks towards you and grabs the socks, inspecting it awestruck. They could barely cover the tips of his fingers, causing you to laugh “ Are human newborns so… tiny?”

When suddenly a howl breaks the silence startling you both and leaving the set on the nightstand

“ I'm sorry, daisy!” Ngen apologizes to the puppy barking at her under her bed

You quickly tell her “Ngen, I told you to be more careful where you walk, daisy is still very little” a soft thumping against the tiles approaches the shared bedroom and a sad melusine hugs your leg

“ I don't want daisy to be mad at me” she whines into your pajamas

“Don't worry, I'm sure she will forgive you” you pat her head softly, messing the green and blue hair “she is just scared because you hurt her, but she truly likes you”

“ because I'm her big sister?”

As she asks that Neuvillette’s eyes dart towards yours, confusion meeting with confusion. The only idea that Neuvillette could conceive of the sudden titles being thrown around was Ngen being jealous of the attention towards the new puppy. Even then he recognizes to himself that he doesn't mind the familiarity and might even enjoy the cozy feeling in his chest.

Holding her in his arms a placid smile on his lips “Yes, Ngen, Daisy loves her big sister” Without her noticing the dog now peeks her head inside the room after hearing her name the puppy sits down at your feet and you hold her to Ngen’s face

“See? She was just scared. Now get ready for bed, it's past your bedtime”

“ Okay~” she quickly jumps out of Neuvillette's arms and the puppy follows after her, her tail playfully waging

A few seconds of silence settle in the room and you walk to the bathroom to brush your teeth

“Why did she suddenly start with the mom and dad thing?”

Neuvillette starts tying his hair back in a braid, his two blue streaks outside of it “ I'm unaware, she still referred to me as ‘monsieur Neuvillette’ when she accompanied me to the Palais mermonia” he sits down on his side of the bed, the white sheets matching his pajamas made of white silk and blue details “I hope it didn't bother you. If it did I apologize, I will talk with her about it tomorrow”

“ I didn't mind, actually. I think kinda sweet, like if she was our daughter”

As he pulls back the blankets he finds the baby dress on your nightstand and stretches over to grab it, the yellow cotton intricately embroidered with a darker stringing the form of daffodils, it was a very delicate work, noticeably even just by touch “it would be a waste for this to go unworn” he mumbles softly

“ It would, wouldn't it” you smile at him from the on suite bathroom

[ukulele-hero]

this was the funniest sequence of events hands down

🌈🤔🤷‍♀️???

[leenfiend]

based on the train chapter 95 of Observations by J-anon

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

open your mouth for me, sugar

NSFW (this is literally just porn) - part of the Steddie Upside-Down AU universe, but can be read as a standalone

“What are you doing, Munson?” Steve asks, tone teasing enough to keep away the sting of being last-named by his boyfriend.

The carpet’s rough against his knees where they show through the holes in his jeans as he slides forward far enough that he can pillow his head on Steve’s thigh. Steve’s jeans are scratchy, too. Eddie rubs his cheek against the denim, turning his head just enough to catch Steve’s tender gaze.

“I’ve never done this before,” Eddie replies. His cheeks instantly warm at the admission, but their bedroom lights are off, the only light that of the fading day filtering in through the curtains. Maybe Steve won’t notice.

As if in answer, Steve reaches out to caress Eddie’s cheek. He closes his eyes against the feeling, overwhelmed.

“Never done what?” Steve asks.

He runs his fingers up Eddie’s cheekbone and into his hair. His scalp tingles where Steve scratches at it. A high-pitched whine unwillingly slips out of his slack mouth as Steve’s fingers get caught in a tangle at the back of his head.

“Hmm?” Eddie asks, opening his eyes just to drown in the dark pools of Steve’s eyes, pupils blown with need. Steve clenches his fist in Eddie’s curls and pulls.

“Never done what?” Steve asks, still pulling at the roots of Eddie’s hair.

Eddie can’t think past the fire on his scalp and the way it somehow flows through his veins straight into his cock. “You know what.” He tries to modulate his voice, but it comes out breathy and desperate.

When they’d first talked about sex, he’d told himself that he’d play it cool. He’d be suave, and sexy, and seduce Steve right off his feet. He should’ve known that one touch from Steve’s wanting hands would be his undoing.

Steve’s smiling down at him, full of sharp edges and sharper teeth. “No, I don’t know,” he says around a smirk. “Why don’t you tell me?”

What comes out of Eddie’s mouth is less words and more a string of consonants and vowels that hold no meaning whatsoever. Because Steve’s not even blinking, and his grip is almost too firm, and if he doesn’t suck Steve Harrington’s dick right now, he might actually die. 

“What was that?” Steve prompts, and it’s all cock-sure King Steve fucking Harrington. He’s never been more in love.

God, this is tripping into so many of Eddie’s forbidden dirty fantasies from before King Steve had become his Angel. Eddie wonders, half-dazed as he inches his cheek closer to the bulge in Steve’s tight jeans, if he can convince Steve to fool around beneath the bleachers before they graduate. Or in the locker room, the boy’s bathroom, on his throne during Hellfire, he’s not picky.

Steve’s still smirking at him with an eyebrow raised, so Eddie moves forward even further. Close enough to exhale slow, hot breath against Steve’s clothed dick as he says, “wanna suck you off.”

He punctuates the request with an open-mouthed kiss to Steve’s bulge. The denim’s rough against Eddie’s tongue and doesn’t taste like much at all. He sucks on the spot, lets all the moisture in his mouth soak into the fabric as he looks up to meet Steve’s hooded gaze.

Holier than thou King Steve has fallen away and something even more holy is left in his place. It’s just Steve, bathed in the dim light of Eddie’s lamp, mouth open and gasping, as he presses Eddie’s face down into his crotch, two points of color high on each cheek.

He wants to draw the scene, paint it in acrylics, snap a photo. He wants to die in this moment, the only points of contact Steve’s hand in his hair and Eddie’s mouth on his dick.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, rolling his hips gently up and onto Eddie’s tongue. Eddie nods, lets his mouth trail up the shaft, unerringly toward Steve’s fly. “Take what you want, Loverboy”

He noses beneath Steve’s loose t-shirt, breathing already shaky as he breathes him in. He smells like skin, and their laundry detergent, and a little bit like sweat. Eddie wants to devour him.

Eddie bites into the soft skin of Steve’s stomach until he gasps, then lathes the spot with his tongue. His view’s obscured by the hem of Steve’s shirt, so he follows the sounds his angel makes moving down, down, down, sucking and licking and biting until his tongue is licking beneath the waistband of his jeans, straining to get lower.

“Eddie, please,” Steve breathes as he presses Eddie’s head down again, like he can’t help himself.

Eddie laughs, hot breath hitting Steve’s damp skin as he squirms on the bed. He pulls back to look up at Steve, pushing against the restraining grip in his hair until his hands gentle in Eddie’s curls.

Eddie’s barely touched him, and Steve looks wrecked; his bottom lip’s bitten raw, his eyes are black with lust, and he’s panting like there’s a Demogorgon on his heels.

Eddie smooths his hands up and down Steve’s thighs like he’s soothing a spooked horse as Steve shudders above him. “Please what?” Eddie asks, watching with reverence as Steve’s frustration battles with his mounting need.

Steve’s Adam’s apple bobs, throat clicking around words that don’t quite make it out of his mouth. Eddie licks his lips, ready to wait him out no matter how much his jaw aches with need, or how hard his own dick is confined in his jeans.

“Please suck my dick,” Steve breathes, fingers clenching into the mussed sheets at the edge of their bed. 

“Of course, Angel,” Eddie says, smiling up at him.

Unable to help himself, he crowds closer, wedging himself firmly between Steve’s parted knees, begging for a kiss.

Steve doesn’t disappoint. He leans down, arms coming around Eddie to pull him closer still as their lips connect. Eddie sucks Steve’s bottom lip into his mouth and bites down until Steve shudders, mouth gasping open.

Eddie swipes his tongue in, just barely delving into the warmth of Steve’s mouth. He shuffles closer, trying to meld their bodies together as Steve retaliates, licking into Eddie’s mouth with singular focus.

Eddie can’t help himself. He sucks down, hard on Steve’s tongue, reaching around to grasp his ass, forcing him to grind against Eddie’s stomach. He does again, and again, and again, following Eddie’s guiding hands like he was born for it.

His goal had been to make Steve desperate, but the feel of his angel, hot and wanting against him has Eddie disconnecting their mouths with a gasp.

He barely hears Steve’s whine as he untangles his arms from their embrace and shuffles back just enough to fumble with Steve’s belt. He’d been planning to go for suave, sure hands unbuckling Steve’s belt and maybe pulling down his underwear using his teeth as Steve begs above him.

But they’ve barely started, and Eddie’s hands are shaking with need. The sound of Steve’s belt clacking against itself is loud as it echoes through the room, silent aside from their breathless panting.

Eddie pulls the zipper down and stuffs his hand into Steve’s underwear. It’s a tight squeeze, and his wrist ends up at an awkward angle as he grasps Steve’s dick, but he’s thrown his head back on a sigh. Eddie looks up at Steve to find the light of the dwindling sun filtering in through the curtain, painting his closed eyelashes in golden light.

“Angel,” Eddie says, soft and reverent.

Steve sighs, eyes cracking open to slits, black with  lust as he gazes down at Eddie. Eddie moves his hand up and down, slow against the dry skin beneath his palm. Steve fists the sheets again. Eddie watches the play of tendons and muscles, clenching and unclenching beneath the skin of his forearms.

Eddie wants to break him.

He loosens his fist, trailing just his fingertips against the warm skin of Steve’s dick as best as he can in the tight confines of his underwear. Steve whines, loud and wanton and needy. Eddie wants to record the sound and play it on loop until the tape disintegrates. He wants to record a song with it, be buried listening to it. He wants to make Steve make that noise again.

Eddie trails his hand down, wrist aching as he rubs Steve’s balls one after another. Steve sighs, thrusting forward on the bed, begging without words for Eddie to touch him firmly, just where he wants.

He doesn’t.

Eddie trails his fingers back up, as light as he can, barely a tickle against Steve’s skin, until Steve’s mouth’s puckered up and his eyebrows are furrowed against his mounting frustration. He thrusts forward again, but Eddie moves with him, still barely touching. Steve whines again, and Eddie shudders, harder than he’s ever been.

“Eddie, please,” Steve moans, eyes dropping closed as his hips unwillingly jerk forward.

That’s all it takes. Eddie pulls his hand free, chafing the back of his hand against the open fly of Steve’s jeans. He doesn’t care, barely even notices as he yanks Steve’s pants and underwear down, Steve raising his ass to help. Eddie trails his fingers down Steve’s flexing thighs, taut calves as he pushes them down, picking each of Steve’s feet up gently as he pulls them off entirely, tossing them somewhere behind him.

Steve’s bare from the waist down. That’s not enough for Eddie, so he reaches out, pushing Steve’s shirt up until he gets with the program and pulls it off entirely.

Steve Harrington sits on the bed that they share, haloed in the golden light of the setting sun, beautiful in all his naked glory. Eddie trails his eyes over arms, pectorals, the gentle softness of his stomach like he’s never seen them before.

In a way, he hasn’t. Not like this, with Steve gazing back with that same wanting fire in his eyes.

“You’re gorgeous,” Eddie says, running his palms up Steve’s bare thighs.

Steve’s eyes close, and he whispers something that sounds a lot like please, wriggling his hips in search of the slightest friction.

Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s ruddy, erect dick before he’s got his mouth on it, sinking down like a drowning man.

He chokes, immediate and all-consuming until Steve threads his fingers through Eddie’s mussed curls and pulls him up and off.

His eyes are watering as Steve uses his grip on Eddie’s hair to pull his head up and meet his gaze. “Slow, Baby,” Steve says, pupils blown all to shit.

Eddie nods, frantic, still, to get his mouth on Steve. He’d barely had a taste.

When Steve loosens his hold, Eddie looks back down at his dick, taking stock of the terrain like an explorer on new land. It’s shorter than Eddie’s but girthier and flushed such a deep red at the tip that Eddie thinks it must hurt.

Eddie licks the head. Steve groans, so Eddie does it again, memorizing his taste. It’s musky and warm with just a hint of salt from the precome already leaking from his tip.

He licks down the side, sucking along the shaft, mapping the textures with his tongue. Steve’s hips are making abortive little thrusts.

Eddie licks back up, and puts his mouth on Steve again, just the tip this time, Steve’s command of slow, Baby ringing through his head as he sucks.

But Steve’s still squirming, and he sinks down a little farther, tongue swirling around all the skin he can reach.

He’s never felt closer to god than in this moment, with his own personal angel bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, cock hard and wanting in Eddie’s mouth. He’s always heard you're supposed to pray on your knees, and the carpet digging into his skin can be his penance.

Eddie stays there for an endless moment, sucking on Steve’s dick, lost in the sensations playing against his tongue. But then Steve grips his hair by the root and every nerve ending Eddie has lights up. He moans, hips twitching as his own dick gets somehow even harder in the confines of his jeans.

Steve curses, vehement and filthy, as he says, “fuck, Eddie your mouth,” and uses his grip on Eddie’s hair to push him down a little farther.

The head of Steve’s cock hits the back of Eddie’s tongue, and he gags around it for a second until Steve pulls him back until it’s just the tip in his mouth again. Eddie whines, and it must feel good because Steve grips his hair even harder and pushes Eddie’s head back down again.

Eddie’s jaw strains around the girth of Steve’s cock, he’s starting to get light-headed as he tries to breathe through only his nose, and he’s one wrong thrust away from gagging again.

He’s never been more turned on in his life.

Steve resists for a second as Eddie tries to lean away, hand clenching almost painfully in his hair before he shakes it free and clenches it back into the sheets instead like he needs something to hold onto.

Eddie’s resistant too, sucking from root to head until it drops from his mouth with a suctioning pop. Eddie looks at it, rapturous. It’s obscenely wet with his spit, and it’s bobbing as Steve flexes his hips like he’s still seeking out the warmth of Eddie’s wanting mouth.

“Please, please, please,” Steve chants, like he’s the one worshiping here, and that won’t do.

“Look at me,” Eddie demands, waiting for Steve’s dark eyes to meet his before he holds up his palm and spits into it, letting the glob of saliva pool in the cup of his palm.

Steve shudders, eyes fluttering closed for a second before he pries them back open to meet Eddie’s gaze once more. Eddie reaches his wet hand out to wrap around the base of Steve’s dick, squeezing hard as he pumps him up and down, once, twice, thrice, Steve writhes above him.

“Keep looking at me,” Eddie commands, and Steve does, eyelashes barely fluttering as Eddie leans forward to sink his mouth back onto Steve’s cock, never stopping the movement of his hand.

It takes a minute for his mouth and hand to move in tandem, all beneath his angel’s wonton gaze. His mouth’s dropped open, and his thighs are twitching like he wants to thrust and take.

Eddie twines his free hand with one of Steve’s, pausing his ministrations as he unclenches Steve’s fingers from the tangled sheets to fist it in the hair at the base of his skull before dropping his hand back to clench against his own thigh.

Steve groans and uses his tight grip on Eddie’s curls to bring Eddie’s head down on his cock again, thrusting his hips up off the bed at the same time. Eddie’s downward slide is stopped when his lips connect with his own hand, still fisted around Steve’s cock.

“Sorry,” Steve says, stilling his hips and pulling Eddie’s head back up before loosening his grip on Eddie’s curls. 

Desperate to not lose this connection, Eddie reaches back behind his own head to clench down around Steve’s hand, hard, forcing his fingers to fist back into Eddie’s hair. Steve’s mouth’s dropped open and he’s panting but he’s still not doing anything. Eddie reaches behind Steve to pull at his ass, forcing him to grind forward into Eddie’s wanting mouth.

He moans, watching in real time as all of Steve’s restraint snaps.

He pulls Eddie back by his hair, then thrusts into his mouth again, pulling Eddie’s head down with the movement until his mouth’s nestled against his own hand again. Eddie gives a few half-hearted jerks of his wrist around the base of Steve’s cock, but then Steve thrusts again, and again, and again, and he loses the plot entirely.

It's all Eddie can do to keep his teeth back and keep sucking as Steve picks up momentum, their shitty mattress squeaking at every roll of his hips.

Desperate and aching, Eddie’s own hips start moving, trying desperately to get any friction at all against his aching cock. He whines around Steve’s dick, hips flexing uselessly against air.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve says, and then Steve’s leg is pressed up against Eddie’s groin. “Take what you need.”

He does, movements stilted as he writhes against Steve’s leg as his angel fucks up into his mouth. It almost hurts as he rubs his dick against the inside of his jeans, friction rubbing him raw. He feels like a dog in heat, lost to the salty skin on his tongue, and the feel of Steve’s leg against his dick. Nothing’s ever felt better.

But then Steve’s thrusts grow rougher, something desperate in the way he grinds Eddie’s head down, and he mutters, “shit, shit, baby, I’m gonna—” right before he spills, hot and salty into Eddie’s mouth.

It’s almost overwhelming, a musty tang on Eddie’s tongue that should gross him out. But Steve Harrington’s just come in his mouth, cock twitching futilely as it softens, so he swallows it down like it’s the elixir of life itself.

Steve’s hips still, and his hand gentles in Eddie’s hair, smoothing it down as he gasps for breath. Eddie, still more wild animal than man, sucks on his mouthful of softening cock as he thrusts his own dick more firmly against Steve’s leg.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve says, pushing his leg against Eddie’s groin, meeting him thrust for thrust as Eddie teeters ever closer to his own orgasm. “Come for me.”

Eddie shudders, on the precipice from Steve’s words, but that’s not what does him in, even as his dick leaks freely into his jeans, begging for release.

He continues grinding, desperate as he looks up to meet Steve’s eyes, and finds Steve looking back, like he’d never stopped after Eddie’d ordered him to watch. That’s what sends him tumbling over the edge, groaning around Steve’s soft dick as he spills into his jeans.

It takes a long time for Eddie to resurface, head still buried in Steve’s groin, dick in his mouth, leg still between his own knees. He gives one tiny suck that has Steve shivering before releasing him, kissing the head before leaning back far enough to meet his angel’s eyes.

“Well?” Eddie asks, surprised at the gruffness of his own voice. “How did I do?”

Steve smiles down at him as he replies, “no way that was your first time.” Steve’s fingers have softened in his hair, nails scratching at his scalp as they both catch their breath.

Eddie grins back, reaching to force Steve’s hand back into a fist in his curls. “That was all you,” he says, tickled as a blush blooms across Steve’s cheeks. “Besides, it’s easy to fall on my knees for you, Angel.” That’s what finally, after all this time, gets Steve to look away, blush turning splotchy and red and spreading down his neck. “You’re worth worshiping.”

“Shut up,” Steve mutters, shoving Eddie away.

Eddie just laughs, knees protesting the change in position as he stands long enough to shuffle onto the bed beside Steve, who follows him willingly down, legs dangling awkwardly off the end.

His spunk’s drying uncomfortably in his jeans, he’s got carpet burn on both of his knees, but Steve Harrington’s lying naked and sated next to him, face pressed into the juncture of Eddie’s armpit like that’s not the grossest thing in the world.

He’ll die down there, on his knees, if Steve lets him, worshiping at the pedestal of his angel. But that’s a lot to shove on Steve after such a rigorous workout so all he says is, “Want to go again?”

Thanks to @queenie-ofthe-void for editing, and especially wrangling the pronouns and names into something worth reading. <3

[localunseeliefae]

i have an idea for a heart-wrenching iwaoi historic au in which they are growing up together in some village forgotten by the world until the war begins and oikawa doesn't have to go but his passion and pride pushes him to join the army, when iwaizumi stays home and provides for his family because he can't simply leave them to fend for their own (also oikawa makes him promise to take care of his mother and sister othewise iwaizumi probably would go with him)

tooru climbes high in ranks because he is passionate and determined and suprisingly good at reading the enemies strategy and iwaizumi hears about it in bits and pieces through very few, very short letters he receives in the span of those months he is gone;

when the letters stop coming iwaizumi doesnt really worry at first, because from the ones he received previously he concluded that the work of oikawas unit is coming to an end and maybe, just maybe tooru is already coming home and wanted to suprise them with his sudden appearance (after all he always had a flair for the dramatics) but the waiting period begins to stretch excruciatingly long and even though hajime doesn't want burden his and oikawas family with worry he can't help but feel this gut wrenching fear whenever he thinks about tooru

when his pendant comes back to them, carried by a man in the same uniform they probably dressed tooru in, hajime isn't really suprised; he felt it coming for a long time, even though he never admitted it to himself

maybe that's why he doesn't break down in tears like tooru's mother did when she saw the man, maybe the numbness he felt was caused by the fact that he expected to see the man more, than he expected to hear toorus irritating voice making fun of him ever again

maybe that's why he doesn't cry over tooru, not when their families mourn him, not when he digs him a grave in which he will never lie in, not when he rereads the letters tooru send him and he read, not knowing that those would be the last words he ever heard from him

or maybe he did not really mourn him because he could not for his life believe that he would never feel his best friends warm body pressing into his, when he insisted that he was too tired too walk on his own and "iwa-chan how dare you push a man in need away", that he would never see those brown eyes light up when they would speak about something tooru was currently fixated on

maybe that's why despite their families begging for him to not go, he still decided to join the man, the bearer of tragic news, who after a few days rest was to go back to the army stationed nearby

maybe he was convinced, that by joining him, he will quickly find tooru and drag him back to their families, before any harm comes to him or to them

and maybe that's why hajime welcomed his own death with relief rather than fear, because he knew tooru would wait for him for a thousand years if he had to, just like hajime would do for him

[deoidesign]

Dang it... They sent me gloss books instead of matte 😭😭😭 I want the whole set to match...

I'm going to go through customer service about this, but I think their solution is to send me new books... But I have no idea what I'll do with thesw 300 extra books if they do that!!!

Any ideas???

[kazcreates]

Simple Solutions

Summary: A glimpse into a soft morning in the Rietveld-Fahey-Ghafa household, and a show of how partners complete each other.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54864406

“Damn it!” Kaz shouted, loud enough to startle his partners who were lounging in the living room. 

Before Jesper and Wylan could challenge each other to Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who was to get up, Inej slipped from the nest of blankets that she and her partners had bundled together on the couch. Her feather-light footsteps made no sound, and yet she knew Kaz could sense her presence as she slipped into the kitchen.

He was leaning over the counter, propped up on his elbows, his face in his hands. She worried for a moment that he might have hurt himself, then she saw it.

Small droplets of waffle batter surrounded the large red bowl that Kaz had been using to mix it all up in. Inside said bowl, half-submerged in sticky batter, were Kaz’s glasses.

His eyesight had been getting worse over the years, too many knocks to the head during countless brawls and jobs gone sideways. It had taken quite a bit of convincing before they finally got him to visit the optometrist and had gone home with a pair of corrective lenses set in thin black frames.

“Damned things keep falling off and now look,” Kaz grumbled, rubbing his face roughly with the palms of his hands. He glared at the batter-caked glasses as Inej plucked them out of the bowl. One of the most feared men in half the countries in the world, at war with a pair of spectacles.

Inej couldn’t fight the smile that pulled at her lips. 

“Don’t laugh,” Kaz whined, burying his face in his hands again. There was no commanding in his voice, this wasn’t the feared Dirtyhands giving an order. This was an embarrassed Kaz Rietveld begging his wife not to make fun of him. “It’s bad enough that we missed Jesper’s birthday because of my surgery. I just wanted to make a nice breakfast for all of us.”

“Breakfast isn’t ruined, you know,” Inej chided him gently. She reached for the towel which hung on the stove handle, and dampened it beneath the faucet.

“And if I may, it’s not your fault we missed my birthday. I have the memory of a goldfish,” Jesper piped up, moving from the doorway and moving up behind Kaz, snaking his arms around his waist. “I’m not holding it against any of you. Especially not you. You needed that surgery.”

“My leg has been messed up for 13 years, it could’ve waited another day,” Kaz said, his voice low and gravelly with contentment, as Jesper nuzzled his head into Kaz’s shoulder.

“Speaking of which, have you had your medication?” Wylan called from the living room.

“If you’re going to eavesdrop, my dear merchling, you may as well join us!” Jesper called back, clasping a hand over Kaz’s ear as not to yell directly into it. 

“If you insist,” Wylan sighed dramatically, sweeping into the kitchen with a blanket wrapped snugly around his shoulders. He’d picked up on Jesper’s theatrics over the years.

“How is your leg doing, Kaz?” Inej asked, giving the glasses a final wipe with the rag. 

“It doesn’t hurt so bad this morning. In fact, I think this is the best it’s felt in months,” Kaz admitted, melting a little as Jesper pressed kisses to the side of his neck.

“I’m glad,” Wylan said, folding his blanket over the back of one of the chairs at the dining table. He rolled up his sleeves and went about finishing the breakfast that Kaz had started, hushing him when he began to protest.

“You should probably get off your feet either way, darling,” Jesper said, and, without warning, swept Kaz off of his feet, narrowing avoiding knocking into Inej. 

Kaz rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything more. He was getting better at allowing himself to be taken care of. And with all of the progress that he’d made in touch over the past decade, he had no objections with being as close to his partners as he could get.

Jesper set him down carefully in one of the dining chairs, and then stepped back, like an artist admiring his work. “Hmm… something’s missing,” he said, tapping a finger against his chin. “Ah! Inej, give me those glasses.”

Inej handed over the freshly cleaned glasses.

Jesper took them carefully, and placed his hands over the hinges. The screws tightened, making the arms more rigid. Then he ran his hands along the plastic, molding it beneath his fingers. When he was finished, he set them gently against Kaz’s nose, tucking the arms over his ears. 

“There. Perfection,” Jesper grinned, placing a kiss against Kaz’s forehead, before ruffling his hair just to annoy him.

“It’s getting long,” Inej noted, twirling a strand of Kaz’s hair so that it stood almost directly up on his head. 

He pressed it back down against his head. She was right though. The sides had grown out enough to curl around his ears, and the top was long enough to fall into his eyes if he didn’t brush it back. He hadn’t ever let it get this long since he was a child.

“You’re starting to look like a farm boy again,” Jesper teased. “It’s a good look on you.”

Kaz shook his head, but he was smiling.

These were the moments that had made ever moment of pain and agony worth it. Healing had been a hell of a process, and he wasn’t near finished with it. But he’s grown a lot since he was seventeen. He hoped to grow some more, with his Crows right by his side. 

Wylan set the first plate of waffles down on the table in front of him. 

“Candles?” Kaz asked, trying to focus on speech as Inej braided the longer strands of his hair. 

“Gasp, birthday waffles? You shouldn’t have,” Jesper again with the theatrics. He fetched the candles from a drawer and placed them into the fluffy center of the stack of waffles.

An off-key rendition of happy birthday began and ended in a fit of laughter. 

The Rietveld home full of love and life once again.

[donnydamakkk]

unpopular opinion: there is no point in the show in which jeid would have made sense. jj never seemed interested in him, and his feelings always felt misconstrued and misplaced. they never had that kinda chemistry.

[thatswhatsushesaid]

I am routinely baffled by any criticism of jgy fans' interpretation and defence of his character that can be boiled down to "but genre conventions!!!!" as if defying genre conventions isn't how newer, cooler, more interesting stories end up being told.

[bottom-lexa]

future Tarnished but so grand drabble

A lazy Saturday morning drabble for @lexa-griffins for her birthday and also as an advance apology for all the angst that is to come in the near future.

No, Lexa still wasn’t quite used to the sight she woke up to yet. They had been living together for nearly five years now, engaged for a good two, so she was no stranger to waking up next to Clarke, she had been doing it almost every morning for the past one thousand eight hundred and fifty six days. But Lexa still wasn’t used to it.

It was the constant feeling of peace and contentment, it was the soft love, it was the safety and comfort that Lexa hadn’t known her entire life that she felt every morning now when she opened her eyes. It was rolling over on her side and watching the woman she loved sleep just a little longer, it was knowing she didn’t have to rush out of bed and get things ready or there would be consequences, it was knowing when her partner woke up, she would be met with a smile and a soft good morning.

She used to hate the weekends, used to hate Saturdays in particular because she was forced to spend the entire time within the confines of her house with Michael. Now, Lexa looked forward to it. Saturdays were easily her favorite, she got to spend it at home with Clarke, got to the spend the entire day together lounging in the living room with her head on Clarke’s lap catching up on all the TV show episodes they had missed over the week, or spend hours in bed clothed in nothing but the soft ray of sunshine that had sneaked its way in through the curtains.

“Morning,” Clarke said groggily as her eyes opened, “How long have you been watching me sleep?” She teasingly accusingly, voice low and deep, heavy with sleep.

“Oh not long,” Lexa matched her tone, “Just a couple of hours.” She could barely keep it together till the end of the sentence, a small giggle escaping despite Lexa’s efforts.

“It’s Saturday.” Clarke stated. “And it’s still in the AM,” She added after a quick glance at the clock on her nightstand which read 9:17 am. “So why are we awake, angel?”

Lexa shrugged with one shoulder, “I’m not tired?”

Something flashed in Clarke’s eyes at the statement, a playful sparkle as her lips curled into a matching smirk. “Then maybe…” She started calmly, hand coming up to Lexa’s arm and letting her fingers trace up alone the length of it. “I should tire you out?” She did her best to hide the excitement in her voice, putting on a not-at-all convincing act that this was just for Lexa and not herself. “So we can get a little more sleep?”

Lexa was never one to turn down an offer like that. And it wasn’t long before the two of them found themselves entirely too close to each other with Clarke’s fingers inside Lexa and Lexa’s mouth on Clarke’s chest. It was slow and lazy, quiet moans muffled by kisses, whispered I love yous, and breathless sighs. Clarke’s fingers knowing how best to drive Lexa crazy, Lexa knowing all too well the ways to touch Clarke that would was sure to make her cum by heightening the pleasure she got from fucking Lexa.

It was at least a handful of organs later that the two of them finally came apart on their prospective sides of the bed. Chest heaving and a sheen of sweat covering their skin as they caught their breath. Lexa didn’t wait before closing the distance between them, her face finding the crook of Clarke’s neck and Clarke’s arm immediately going up around her waist.

“Tired?” Clarke asked knowingly.

Lexa’s eyes were already closed. “Enough to go back to sleep for an hour or two, yeah.”

[babygirlwolverine]

new poolverine fic coming tomorrow 🥹

[ravens-words]

Stay

Eddie's eyes meet Tommy's- probably accidentally- and he sees a flash of guilt in the man's brown eyes that tells him all he needs to know. Eddie makes to pull away, and Tommy watches as Buck just clings to him even more."

Post 7x09. Buddie, Buck, Athena and Bobby family feels.

Tommy is sleeping beside Evan when he gets the call. It takes some maneuvering to untangle their limbs because his boyfriend is a hugger even in his sleep, but by the fourth ring, Buck is up and has the phone in his hand. "Hello?" Evan answers, voice hoarse from sleep. "Athena? What- oh god, are you okay? Is Bobby-" here, he cuts himself off and lets out a strangled, wounded noise that wakes Tommy right up. He sits up in bed just as Buck continues,  "Athena, tell me he's alive," he begs her, and Tommy grabs his hand, squeezes it. A silent, "I'm here". His boyfriend barely notices. Evan, when he finishes the call, stares at the wall for a few seconds. "Evan?" 

No answer.

"Evan?" Tommy says, a little louder this time. 

Wide, unfocused eyes meet his, and Tommy has to force himself to keep his voice low and calm as he tries to get him to respond. Finally, finally, his touch seems to snap him out of whatever trance he's in, and he flinches away, stumbling out of bed and into the bathroom. Evan is a flurry of movement after that. 

Only when they're on their way to the hospital does Tommy realize that Evan has barely allowed Tommy to touch him. His gut twists, but he puts the thought away and focuses on getting them to the hospital as safely, and as quickly, as possible.

With shaking fingers, Buck starts making calls to the team. Hen already knows, he infers- Athena must have called her right after or right before calling Buck. Chim, Maddie and someone named May are next. Eddie is last, and Tommy thinks he understands why when for the first time since he started making these calls, Evan's voice breaks and he sounds so lost. 

Tommy tries his best to ignore the fact that only with Eddie, did Evan allow himself to break, just a little.

Continue on AO3

[dreamonminecraft]

Chapter 3 of what it was and what it wasn't is UP!

this one is a doozy (and 25k words long) so go read it!

[ja3yun]

something scheduled for you guys 👁👄👁

[superluigiglitchy]

Hypnoshades Meggy

When Meggy goes missing, Mario along with 1# Grizzco. Employee Harbour Current get recruited by Marie Cuttlefish from the Squid Sisters to search for her cousin Callie Cuttlefish and her Grandpa Craig, who's gone missing as well

They do manage to find them however they don't seem to be quite.... Themselves

[metanarrates]

honestly arguing over art interpretation is the domain of fans and/or haters LMAO. its important work and i do not want to catch a WHIFF of the author interfering. get out of my head