#I wish things would just feel okay again.

[ellecdc]

The Bolter

Sirius Black x fem!reader who meet again [5.5k words]

prompt: poly!wolfstar or just Sirius x reader in which they were friends with benefits but it was obvious they loved each other even though they acted like they weren’t. Then, reader finds out shes pregnant and before telling them, they do something stupid. so reader runs away for a few months. When she comes back (only bc she had to for some reason) shes like 6-7 months pregnant

CW: secret pregnancy, angst, FWB to strangers to lovers, second chance fic, post war trauma, both Sirius and reader are meeesssssssssssyyyyy in this! I don't approve of what they've done but I understand it

“So…she’s coming back?” Sirius asked cautiously, focusing more on the condensation pooling on the coaster underneath his pint than the concerned gazes of his two best friends. 

“Well, I don’t know if she’s coming back, but she’ll be here for Harry’s birthday.” James mollified, sharing a nervous look with Remus.

“Right.” Sirius murmured around a swallow; throat tight and dry though neither the pint nor the pitcher of water in front of him looked as though they’d be able to help him with the matter. 

“Are you going to be alright?” Remus queried, and Sirius offered him the most arrogant scoff he could muster; he missed by a long shot.

“Of course I’m going to be alright.” He huffed. “Why? Can’t two friends see each other after five and a half months of silence?” 

“Sirius-” James started, but Sirius carried on. 

“She’s the only one who’s been silent, you know?” Though he knew that they did indeed both know. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried reaching out.” 

“Pads.” Remus offered consolingly, looking frustratingly like he was going to reach a hand out to Sirius as if he were some over tired toddler on the brink of a meltdown.

“Stop, no I- I’m fine, honest.” He insisted as he took a steadying breath. “I- you… talked to her, then?”

James and Remus shared another look before James allowed the segue. 

“Mostly by owl, but she has spoken on the phone with Lily a few times.” 

Sirius nodded as he considered this; considered the number of owls Sirius had sent that had gone unanswered - perhaps even unopened if the silence meant anything at all.

“She’s…okay?” 

Remus let out a sigh as he shot Sirius a tight smile that looked more like a grimace. “She’s…vague.”

“She doesn’t share a whole lot.” James agreed. “Says she’s fine, things are good. Mostly asks about…all of us, Harry.” 

“She’s still staying with that great aunt,” Remus added, “helping her with the property.” 

“She seeing anyone?” There was no point in pretending that wasn’t the most pressing matter in Sirius’ mind; of course it was. And as angry and bitter as the idea made Sirius, it would have been his own fault, his own doing. He had no one to blame but himself. 

And he’d have to live the rest of his life knowing he was the one who let you slip away - pushed you away - right into the arms of someone else. 

“Not that she’s mentioned.” Remus responded honestly; he couldn’t say for sure that you weren’t, but if you were, you clearly hadn’t said anything about it. 

“Right.” Sirius offered shortly. 

“Pads, I…we would understand if it's too hard for you to see her. If you can’t come-”

“Don’t be daft.” Sirius scoffed deploringly. “I’m not going to miss my godson’s birthday. If anyone should be missing it, it should be her; I’ve been here for the past four and a half months, she’s the one who fucked off for good.”

“Sirius-”

“I don’t understand why you had to invite her!” Sirius shouted then, startling even himself when he realised how breathless he sounded all of a sudden. 

James smiled at him sadly; Sirius wished he’d stop doing that. “We wanted all of Harry’s uncles and his aunt to be there, Sirius…it’s important, yeah? We…we almost didn’t get this chance.”

Sirius could feel a wicked migraine coming on; between talking about you, the close calls and the fact that the group of you were all alive following the war by nothing but chance, and the fact that the person Sirius was most angry with was himself, he downed the rest of his pint and flagged the server in favour of having to look at the pitiful gazes being shot at him by Remus and James.

Sirius couldn’t tell if he was eager for Harry’s second birthday or dreading it. But like it or not, Sirius was going to be seeing you again. 

It had felt like a good idea at the time.

It felt beyond foolish now, but it had felt like a good idea at the time. 

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

“Sirius, we just won. We just won, why do you have to leave now?” You practically begged as you followed Sirius through his flat. 

“Because if I don’t get out now, I’m going to be stuck here for eternity.” He all but spat at you as he shoved articles of clothing into his duffle rather haphazardly. You felt like grabbing the bag from him and folding them properly if the act wouldn’t leave you feeling like you were aiding and abetting his abandoning you.

“But what about James? And Remus? What about Harry? You fought this war for them, and they for you - we just got them back!”

“And they’ll be here when I’m ready to come home!” Sirius shouted; turning to look at you with wild, red rimmed eyes. 

“What about me?” You asked quietly, hating how small you sounded.

“What about you?” He asked; face falling painfully neutral. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was occluding. 

“I…I don’t know.” You started awkwardly, shrugging one shoulder. “I thought…maybe we’d have a chance now. To try?.”

“Y/N.” Sirius sighed as he rubbed harshly at his eyes; entire being oozed exhaustion at having to have this conversation with you. “Have I not been entirely clear about what this was between us?” 

“Right.” You agreed quickly, biting roughly on your lip and looking anywhere but at him as he let his hand fall away from his face. 

“It’s…it’s not you, doll-” but even your humourless scoff didn’t derail him “I’m not the kind to settle down and be content I- I wouldn’t be enough for you.”

“I’m not asking you for any more than what we have, Sirius-”

“Yes you are.”

“-I just want you to stay.”

“That’s too much for me.” He stated; his voice never raised though he may as well have screamed it at you. “I cannot sit here and play house, I cannot be that guy for you.”

“Cannot or will not?” You asked quietly, regretting the question the second it came out of your mouth and he looked at you with nothing but pity in his eyes. 

“Y/N…”

“I’m sorry I asked.” You let out with a chuckle as you harshly wiped tears from under your eyes. 

“It’s…it’s not forever, yeah? I just…I can’t see myself being happy here…not right now, at least; not for a while.” 

“Where will you go?” Your voice grated painfully as it came out, but you tried to keep an air of nonchalance about you. You wouldn’t look at him, but you could see his shoulders shrug helplessly. 

“I don’t know…everywhere. Anywhere.”

Anywhere was better than stuck here with you, apparently. 

“I hope it’s nice, wherever it is.” You offered, and you found that you meant it. As much as it hurt to say, you really, really meant it. Sirius had been fighting and running his entire life, and he finally won. If he wanted to celebrate his victory by taking off to be that rich, vague uncle who popped by with lavish gifts every so often, who were you to deny him? 

You loved him.

You were in love with him.

You loved him enough to let him go. 

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

He had sent James a postcard a few weeks later. Turns out he started in the South of France; his family had a home there that had been left untouched by the war, and Sirius was going to start by figuring out what to do with the property. 

And you? Well, you found out you were pregnant. 

You suppose it was a small mercy that Sirius wasn’t here to know; you’re sure it would have hurt more hearing him tell you he was leaving if there were two of you he couldn’t find it in him to love. You would have hated it even more if he felt trapped into staying with you just for this.

But all this meant was that you couldn’t stay, either. 

You supposed that was alright, though; the life you wanted to build here was with Sirius. You loved your friends, but you had a little one to think about now, too. 

You made up a story about a great aunt needing help tending to her property and wishing to be closer to your relatives now that you could be, now that it was safe. No one questioned it, likely because Remus had done the same following the war; moving back home to help his dad and ailing mother tend the property in whatever ways he could. 

You found yourself a little cottage, you wrote to the boys and had the occasional phone call with Lily, and you grew.

It had felt like a good idea at the time. 

But now you were almost six months pregnant and returning home for the first time since you moved to celebrate your nephew’s birthday with all of your closest friends, the love of your life whose child you were carrying, and none of them knew. 

You wondered if you should even go, but the thought of missing out on sweet Harry’s second birthday that the lot of you almost never got the chance to see made your throat constrict with tears you refused to shed since the war. 

You wondered if you should tell everyone before you arrived, but the thought of them all discussing you and your pregnancy without you being there left you feeling small and ashamed. 

You wondered if you should tell Sirius, but you looked over at the stack of unopened letters he had sent to you in the past four months - the first thin, perhaps a postcard, the second and third were thicker, the fourth was by far the thickest (like he had drafted an autobiography that he wanted you to proofread for him), the fifth was similar to the second, whilst the sixth (the last) couldn’t be more than one page - and wondered how the hell you’d even start that conversation after all this time.

Hey, remember me? Yeah, the bird who caught feelings during our friends with benefits situation that we both agreed would remain platonic amidst a battle for survival and then begged you to stay with no success? Well, whilst you’ve been off probably shagging every beautiful woman across the British Isles, I’ve been pregnant. Right, with your child. How was France, by the way? 

You swallowed around your gag reflex and groaned at your image in the mirror. You put on a pair of gingham pants with the baggiest band-tee you could find, planned on sucking in the best you could if anyone (when everyone) insisted on a hug and hoped to every deity that they all just assumed you’d been eating really well since the end of the war. 

You smoothed the fabric over your bump one last time before you left - looking at the proof that, if nothing else, you were protecting more than just yourself, and you let that be enough - before you grabbed Harry’s birthday present and called for Potter Manor, throwing a fistfull of floo powder into your fireplace and travelling by way of the flames. 

You could hear Harry squealing in delight in one of the adjacent rooms as you stepped into the floo reception room at Potter Manor; a smile taking over your face uninhibitedly at the sounds of the people you loved more than life itself, happy and celebrating.

How could you have gone so long without this? 

“Y/N!” Lily shrieked as she made for you, and you sucked in before returning her hug. “Merlin, you're glowing! Where’s your aunt's place again?” 

“Erm. Killarney.” You offered; not entirely untrue - you did have an aunt in Killarney. 

“Well,” she let out with a breath, eyes turning a touch glassy as they darted across your face, “it seems that Irish air’s been for you.” 

You smiled back at your friend before pulling her back in for another hug. “I’ve missed you, Lils.”

“Don’t let it go so long next time, yeah? We can come to you, too; I’m teaching James how to be a muggle, and Harry’s only had the odd burst of accidental magic yet. We could play the part in front of your aunt.” 

“I’d love that, Lily.” You responded earnestly. 

“Y/N!” James hollered then before you were being bodily tackled by the former quidditch chaser, a brief flash of anxiety at his hold around your stomach abating only when he relinquished his hold on you. “Where in the sodding hell have you been!?”

“Killarney.” Lily answered for you. 

“I love Killarney!” 

“Have you ever been to Killarney, Prongs?” Remus asked then, appearing in the door as he leaned against the archway. 

“No! But I love it there! I just know it!” 

“Hey Moony.” You greeted, quickly accepting his open arms and breathing him in.

“We’ve missed you.” He murmured into your hair, and you couldn’t help the traitorous hitch in your heart that he might’ve meant-

“Uncle Pafoo!” Harry squealed, suddenly standing right underneath you. 

“That’s right, Haz!” The voice that haunts your dreams called out. “Auntie is here!”

“Hullo, Harry!” You cheered as you picked him up, sucking in before settling on your hip. “Happy birthday, little dude.” 

“Am two!” He announced as he held up four fingers. 

“You are two! Way to go!” You laughed. “Is everyone here?” You asked the room, shooting Sirius a tight smile so you couldn’t be accused of hostility when your heart stuttered for an entirely different reason. 

He looked tired - a bone deep tired that no amount of sleep could rectify - and the bags under his eyes seemed to be chronic. But he was still so beautiful; his hair had grown slightly longer since the last time you’d seen it, the last time you’d run your fingers through it, the last time you’d brought sheers to it, and he donned more than a few new tattoos if the few you could see were enough to go by. 

You had to look away.

“Reg’s going to be by after work; his part-time student called in sick so he needed to be there to close the shop himself. Thankfully, they’re only open in the morning on Sunday’s.” Remus explained kindly.

“Good, it’ll be nice to see him.” You offered, and the room fell slightly awkward.

“Uncle Pafoo, aeroplane?” Harry asked then, and whatever exhaustion seemed to be plaguing Sirius vanished as he beamed at his godson. 

“Absolutely, little man!” He agreed, holding his arms out and taking Harry’s weight from you.

“Do you want something to drink, Y/N? Wine? Beer, Cider? Juice? Water?” James rapid fire, causing Lily to groan. 

“We just got her back, Potter. Do try to control yourself.” 

“Water would be great, Jamie. Thank you.” You laughed, following the group into the open concept kitchen-to-living room. 

Save the fact that you and Sirius seemed to be doing acrobatics to avoid each other, you were almost stunned at how easy and natural being back here felt. Regulus returned and the two of you shared friendly jibes, Lily caught you up on all of the drama at the Ministry, James strong armed you into agreeing to join them for their next pub quiz night, and Remus said that your old professors all wished you well. 

You loved your cottage - the home you’d built for yourself and your little one - but you found yourself feeling homesick for here, and you hadn’t even left yet.

You were leaning on your elbows against the kitchen island, watching Sirius and Regulus pretend to be knights in shining armour as they fought off a fire breathing dragon (Harry) to save the princess (James) when Remus appeared beside you and mirrored your stance. 

“It’s not the same without you, you know?” He murmured then. 

“But they seem to be alright.” You responded simply, and Remus allowed the two of you to fall into silence for a few beats.

“How far along are you?” 

You stood up straight and turned to stare at him in horror, only to see him smiling kindly at you. 

“How do you-”

“Lycanthropy - I could smell it on you.” He said with an embarrassed wrinkle of his nose. “I knew Lily was pregnant before she did.”

You shushed him and looked over your shoulder to ensure no one else could hear you.

“Come.” He said with a sigh, gently taking you by the elbow and ushering you out of the sliding doors to the back yard and closing it behind the two of you. 

“Remus-”

“Is it his?” He cut you off; his face held no judgement though perhaps just a touch of concern. For you or his best friend/virtual brother-in-law, you weren’t sure.

“Yes.” You whispered, not bothering to clarify who he was talking about; you both knew. 

Remus simply nodded as he looked you over. “Is that why you left?”

“He left first.” You hissed petulantly.

“He left you, but you left all of us.” Remus countered somewhat sternly. “Besides, I didn’t ask about him; is this why you left?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” 

“Because, Remus!” You shouted, tears flooding your vision as you turned to look at him. “Because he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want me. I wasn’t going to force him to come back just because… just because.” 

“Don’t you think he should have been able to make that choice for himself?” Remus asked gently.

“He chose! He did choose! He told me he couldn’t play house, he told me he couldn’t be this person for me. I loved him enough to accept that. I loved him enough to let him go.”

“Loved?” Remus asked with a tilt of his head. “Past tense?” 

“Remus.” You groaned. “Please.”

“He came back for you, you know.” Remus pointed out. “He left you, you left us, but he came back for you.” 

“Stop it.”

“It’s true, Y/N.”

“And so what if it is?” You nearly sobbed. “So what if he did, Remus? What can I do? I can’t go back in time and change my mind, I can’t go back and fix this. He made choices, I made choices, and here we are.” 

Remus heaved a sigh and looked at you sadly. “I don't think either of you realise that your choices don’t have to remain permanent; there can be an expiration date on them.” 

You were catching your breath from your mini temper tantrum when you heard the glass door slide open, both you and Remus turning to see Sirius standing there almost shy - far shier than you’d ever seen him before.  

“Just talk to him? Okay? You..don’t have to tell him now, just…talk to him.” Remus whispered before heading towards the door, clapping Sirius on the back before disappearing back into the house. 

“Hey.” Sirius offered cautiously after a few beats of silence, coming to stand beside you as the two of you looked over the railing of the patio to the rest of the manor grounds. 

“Hey.” You returned dumbly, clearing your throat before continuing. “You…you look good, Sirius.”

Sirius scoffed, and you could feel your shoulder rising before you saw him smirk at you - if not somewhat sadly - cutting you a playful glare from the corner of his eye. “Did you take up lying there in Ireland?” 

You let out a breathy half-laugh. “I’m not lying.” 

“Then you need glasses. I look like shite.”

“You look tired.” You amended. 

“I’m exhausted.” He agreed, and the two of you lapsed into silence. 

“You look good, though.” He continued. “Healthy.”

You hummed in agreement. “Funny what not having to run on rations and broken hours of sleep on military cots does for a person.”

“Why haven’t I heard from you, Y/N?” He blurted then, turning his entire body to face you. 

“Sirius, I-”

“Everyone else has. You’ve spoken to Lily on the phone. James and Remus have gotten letters. Even Reg got a postcard for his birthday.” 

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could manage to say.

“I wrote to you.” He continued. “Letters, a lot. Did you get them?”

You nodded your head yes shamefully.

“Did you read them?”

You felt your heart splinter at how hopeful and heartbroken he sounded over it. You felt like scum of the earth when you shook your head no, and he let out a sigh.

“I guess that makes me feel a little bit better, then.” He said as he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. 

You found yourself taking a step away from him when you asked “why does that make you feel better?”

He let out a humourless laugh that forced smoke from his lips. “At least now I know that my begging for a second chance, begging you to come home, professing my love for you isn’t what kept you away.”

“Sirius-”

“I messed up, Y/N.” He declared earnestly. “I…I was fucking scared, terrified. I’d spent so much of my life living with one foot on the threshold of hell that after the war, I didn’t know how to live amongst the undead.”

He took a moment to catch his breath as if he’d run all the way here just to tell you something. “And I ran. I bolted, I…”

“You left.” You finished for him. 

“I left.” He agreed. “I… I didn’t know, Y/N.”

“Didn’t know what?” You asked as you choked back tears.

“Didn’t know what I had, or what I wanted. Or that I had everything that I wanted.”

“And you do, now? You know what you want?” You asked, and a look of determination painted his features as he met your gaze head on.

“For my entire life, I had never known what family meant, so I wasn’t even aware that I’d created my own with all of you until I’d risked it all. I was so sure I didn’t want to be like my parents that I never realised I may actually…want to be a parent someday. I was so sure I didn’t want to be my father that I never realised I actually did want to be a partner someday. I was so certain I’d never know what true love felt like that I didn’t even realise I had it right here all along with you.” 

“Sirius-”

“I messed up. I left. But what I don’t understand is why you did. Or why you stayed away.” He took a step towards you with his cigarette long forgotten in one of his hands, the ash threatening to burn his fingers before you plucked it and stubbed it out on the stone railing. He barely flinched. “Why’d you go?”

“I didn’t want to sit around and wait for you, Sirius. I- it hurt, I was hurt. And then-”

“I’m sorry.” He offered quickly, but you shook your head.

“I’m not telling you this for you to be sorry, I just-”

“I came back for you.”

“But it wasn’t just about me anymore, Sirius!” You shouted then, and you watched his brows furrow before his face fell in horror. 

“You’re seeing someone.” He asked, though he phrased it as more of a statement; like he’d been expecting it.

“I’m not seeing anyone, Sirius.” You sighed.

“Then why’d you leave? Why’d you stay away?”

“Because I’m pregnant.” You blurted, and Sirius fell silent. “I’m almost six months pregnant.”

“Six-” He started, eyes falling to your stomach still hidden behind the baggy article of clothing before you smoothed the fabric over your ever rounding bump. “Six months. Six…”

You let him do the maths in the head as he stared hard at your stomach like he was sitting in divination and it was a crystal ball that might just give him the answers if only he stared at it long enough.

“It’s mine?” He finally concluded.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“It’s mine. You’re pregnant, it’s mine.” He murmured, before his eyes met yours again. “You’re pregnant with my child?”

“Right.” You agreed, and he crumpled to a heap on the floor. 

“Sirius Orion Black,” Sirius heard Remus hiss, clearly hovering somewhere over him, “I swear to Godric if you do not wake up and eat some of this godsdamned vanilla cake you bought, your brother is going to skin you alive.” 

“It’s true.” James agreed from somewhere on Sirius’ other side. “He actually ran to the store when he found out you bought vanilla because he knew Remus wouldn’t eat any of it. Remus is going to get his chocolate cake, and you’re going to get egged.” 

“Shut up.” Sirius hissed as he scrunched his eyes closed. “Fuck.”

“How do you feel, mate?” James asked rather jovially as he clapped him roughy on the shoulder.

“Like hell.”

“Why’s that?” Remus joined in.

“Because I was in the middle of a dream and you sods woke me up going on about cake.” He muttered as he opened his eyes, realising then that he’d been propped up on a number of cushions in one of Lily and James’ spare rooms.

“S’he awake?” Lily whispered, and Sirius craned his neck to see you and Lily poke your heads into the room.

“Oh my gods.” Sirius breathed as he sat up, likely far too fast for someone who fell unconscious mere moments ago. “Oh my gods, you’re actually here?” 

“Did you hit your head, mate?” James asked as he prodded at Sirius’ head, causing Sirius to swat his arms away as he shifted towards the edge of the bed.

“You’re here.” He whispered as you slowly made your way into the room.

“I’m here.” You offered cautiously, eyes darting around at your oldest friends like there might be some secret threat lurking in the room.

“You’re pregnant…” He tried then, punching the air right out of Lily and James who both spun to stare at you in shock.

You smoothed the fabric of your shirt over your midsection again to expose a very obvious (now that everyone could actually see it) baby bump. 

“Oh my gods!” Lily and James chorused, causing Remus to snort.

“You knew, didn’t you!?” Lily accused Remus who held his hands up in surrender. 

“Only when she walked in, and not a second sooner.” 

“With my child.” Sirius continued, and you nodded at him. 

“Y/N.” Lily winced. “You-”

“You sodding scared me!” You shrilled then, grabbing one of the throw pillows James had dumped onto the ground to make room for Sirius and swinging it at him.

“I scared you!?” Sirius shrieked right back, much to the delight of Harry who started banging on the throw pillow that had landed beside him. 

“I thought I killed you!”

“Oh, well I’m terribly sorry that finding out the woman I’ve been in love with for years and pining hopelessly over for months - who was missing for all intents and purposes, may I remind you - is pregnant with my child happened to be a little shocking.” Sirius sneered sarcastically. 

“Well I only went ‘missing’ because the man I’ve been hopelessly in love with for years and pining hopelessly over for months took off an-” The abrupt end of your statement nearly gave the room whiplash as you cut yourself off mid sentence and stared at Sirius like you’d never seen him before. 

“What…what just happened?” James whispered carefully.

“Years?” You whispered then, and Sirius hated every version of himself that deigned to let you go without knowing just how loved you were.

“Probably when we were still just cosmic dust.” Sirius smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I didn’t always realise, I’m sorry I didn’t make sure that you knew.”

“I take it to guess there isn’t an aunt in Killarney?” Lily offered then, smiling kindly at you when you turned your attention towards her.

“No, I- I think there actually is an aunt in Killarney, I just don’t live with her.”

“Where do you live?” Sirius asked eagerly, wondering if you could hear it in his voice or even see on his face just how desperate he was to know everything about you.

“Near Tintagel.” You offered abashedly as Remus slapped his hand on his thigh.

“You minx!” He scolded you. “You lived basically across the channel from me this whole time!”

“I hope it’s nice, wherever it is” You offered him then, smiling through your tears as Sirius swallowed around his bile threatening its way up his oesophagus.

“I hope it’s nice.” Sirius blurted suddenly, and Sirius thanked the heavens for Remus John Lupin who seemed to understand that the conversation delved beyond the need of an audience, scooping Harry up and closing the door behind Lily, James, and himself to give you two some privacy. 

“It’s nice.” You offered wetly. “It’s quiet.”

Sirius hummed in acknowledgement. “In Tintagel, near Merlin’s cave?”

You laughed, which saw Sirius smiling. “I’m not right in Tintagel, just outside. My neighbours are mostly sheep.” 

“Does it have a picket fence?”

“To keep the sheep out of my garden.” You nodded with a smile.

“Flowers; lots of them.” Sirius deduced, you nodded again though Sirius watched your smile falter.

“You’d probably hate it.”

“Are you there?” He asked quickly.

“Well, usually, yes.” You offered, and Sirius shrugged easily.

“Sounds as though it might be my favourite place in the world, then.” 

The next breath that left you shuddered on its way out, and Sirius finally stood and met you in the middle of the room; close enough to touch but not daring to. He hadn’t earned that right yet. 

“Take me with you?” He all but begged then, and your face crumpled in misery.

“Sirius, I don’t want you to follow me because you have to, I-”

“I don’t have to though, I know I don’t; I know you’d never make me.” He assured you then, lifting a hand but pausing to wait for you to nod at him before he placed it on your upper arm. “The letters, Y/N, I- I’ve been looking for you for months.”

A sob tore through you as you lowered your head, and Sirius allowed himself to catch it in his free hand. 

“I don’t want you to feel bad; I’m not telling you so that you feel bad, love.” The endearment falling off his tongue so easily now that he had you in his arms. “But I need you to know that I want you - any of you, all of you - and have for a very long time.” 

“It’s just…you said-” and Sirius knew exactly what he said; he had played that conversation over and over and over in his mind until he found himself sick over it more than once. But we waited for you to tell him anyhow; he’d always wait for you. “You couldn’t settle down and be content, you couldn’t play house; you weren’t that kind of guy.” 

“I know, doll. I know.” He whispered. “I…I didn’t think I was capable of it. I didn’t think I deserved everything I wanted and I knew that you deserved better. That you deserve better.”

“But?”

“But I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life trying to prove you otherwise; trying to give you everything you deserve.”

“Sirius…” You sighed, and Sirius could see your walls cracking. “I…I’m-”

“Take me home? Please?” He begged then, words interrupted by a sob of his own. “To Tintagel, to Killarney, to bloody fucking Azkaban or the bottom of the sodding ocean, I don’t care where it is just as long as it’s with you, please. Please.”

Your hands landed on Sirius’ chest and he was sure you could feel his hummingbird heart beating under your fingertips. He only hoped you knew how it beat for you. 

“Please bring me home?”

James didn’t know if he could consider this a success or not. 

His motivation was not singular; it was a ‘hit two fairies with one gobstone’ sort of scenario, so to speak. Was his son turning two? Indeed he was! Was James throwing a party for said son’s birthday? You’re damned right he was. But was it also a really good excuse to force two of his idiot best friends into the same room again? Absolutely.

Except James seems to have gotten slightly more than he bargained for; Sirius falling unconscious in his childhood backyard, you sobbing into Lily’s shoulder out in the hallway as he and Remus tried to bring him back from the dead, Remus sneering at a slice of birthday cake like it personally offended him and Regulus threatening to defend his boyfriend’s honour, and - apparently - a new niece or nephew coming in the next three-ish months. 

But when he looked over to see you and Sirius emerging from the spare room - both of your faces tear stained and puffy from the grief and torment you no doubt put yourselves through - hands intertwined between your bodies and your hand resting protectively over your growing bump, and a spark in Sirius’ eyes James had thought he lost in the war but now realised he only lost when he lost you…

…yeah, James figured he could probably consider this a success.

[moonstruckme]

Hey girl 💖 Would love a comfort fic with James or poly!Marauders after r had a really bad day? Just cuddles and comforting words. Sure most of us need it right now 💖

Thanks for requesting my love <3 I did try to make this seem like it could just be about any bad day but for my US babes and anyone else that's going to be affected by the election, I really hope you're doing okay and I hope we're all okay over the next few years. Even if we don't all have a James to comfort us, we can still be there for each other <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 607 words

You’re in bed when James finishes brushing his teeth. He can see your shoulders shaking underneath the covers. 

His chest aches as he goes to you. It’s not the first time you’ve cried today and it probably won’t be the last for a while, all your hurt and anger and grief compounding on you as time goes on. James gets into bed and twines his arms around your middle, pressing his nose into your warm cheek. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs. 

Your sobs worsen, and you turn, face to his chest and arms reaching around him with an unthinking neediness. You don’t believe him. 

“It is.” He kisses the top of your head firmly, hugging you closer. You seem like you need a bit of solidity right now. “You’ll be alright, sweet girl. I’ve got you.” 

James lets you cry. Your sniffles grow thick, James’ chest under your face wet with tears and snot. He wonders if your head hurts from how much you’ve wept today, makes a mental note to get you some water in the morning if he can’t manage it tonight. Your whole body shakes with deep, aching sobs. 

“I’m sorry,” you say after a while, words jolting. “I can’t—I keep thinking in circles.” 

“Baby, it’s okay.” James rubs your back. He hates to see you upset, but he wouldn’t begrudge you it. You’ve had a day. As much as he wishes he never had to see you cry, he feels grateful that you’d do it with him. “It’s okay to be sad for a little while.” 

“I know. I know, but—” Another series of sobs jostles their way out of you, painful sounding. Your voice quiets to a tight whisper. “I just can’t stop.” 

James swallows the blockage in his own throat, making big, sweeping circles over your back. “Do you want a little distraction?” he offers. 

You nod into his chest. 

“Okay.” He thinks for a second. “Well, tomorrow, I thought we might go to the bookstore if you’re feeling up to it.” He pauses, waiting to see if this is what you want. When you don’t make a sound he continues. “We could make a day of it. There’s that Thai place you like nearby, so maybe we grab some takeaway, sit and read in the park…” You make a snuffling sound against his chest, and James gives you a squeeze. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Your voice is stuffy and sad, but calmer. “That sounds nice.” 

“I glanced at the weather report earlier.” He drops a kiss on your head. It coaxes you into looking up at him. Your eyes are wet and puffy, but James smiles at you, pinching your nose clean gently. “It’s supposed to be nice out. We’ll probably need our coats, but still, not too bad. You could probably break out those new socks you got.” 

You smile wobbily. “It feels like sort of a silly thing to be excited about now,” you say softly, “socks.” 

“That’s what I love about you, though.” James holds your face and gives in to kissing wherever the urge strikes him, your skin warm and tacky. “You’re always finding things to be excited about, that make you happy. I love that. It’s the little things, right?” 

You sniffle. You’re far from happy now, but you’re settling. “I guess.” 

“It’s nice when it’s the big things too, of course,” he concedes, “but for tomorrow I can still get my girl a book and a takeaway. Right? Okay?” 

“Yeah.” You kiss him, salt on both of your lips. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Jamie.” 

“You’ll be okay,” he promises you again. “I’ve always got you.”

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT helping a partner with trauma

Requested? Yes!

Genre: comfort

TW/CW: Implications of trauma

A/N: This will be less of a discussion about traumatic events themselves (if mentioned it’s brief only to give context), but rather the feelings and responses one might have afterwards. Trauma is varied and so is everyone's reactions to it, so I tried to include a variety of scenarios so there’s a little bit of something for everyone. 

A/N #2/Warning: Please use caution when reading if you might find the topic triggering. This is meant to be comforting, but if you find that it isn’t, come back later or skip altogether. 

Seungcheol

Money is an interesting topic between the two of you. At first, he thinks that you just like to keep a tight control over your finances, and he respects it immensely, applauding you for being money-smart. But he notices that you deny yourself a lot of things in an effort to penny pinch, and flat out refuse when he offers to ease your burden on little things like needing to replace something around your apartment or pay a bill that has an upcoming due date. In a vulnerable moment, you tell him the abbreviated version of the story - you depended on someone financially and then they left you with nothing, and you refuse to be stuck in that situation again. From then on he encourages your financial independence and for the most part respects your wishes for him to not spend a lot on you, even if it pains him sometimes. But you best believe the moment you accept it he’s already sliding you his card or heading to the store himself. Wants you to know that you can rely on him, but knows he has to earn that. 

Jeonghan 

You’re a flirt. It’s one of the things that he loves most about you. He's kissed you a few times since starting to date, but he notices how you pull back sooner rather than later, putting space between the two of you. You feel safer with words than you do with touch. He’s okay with that. If you ever try to explain yourself - doesn’t matter if it's a simple ‘I want to wait’, or a more detailed reason - he’ll shake his head. “You come to me if and when you're ready,” he’ll say simply without an ounce of teasing. I do believe that if and when you do approach him, he’ll want to have a not-so-sexy but still very needed conversation to make sure you’re both on the same page and he understands your boundaries. 

Joshua

On the very first date, you tell him you don't drink and don’t really like to be around alcohol. Noted, he thinks, and doesn't order another drink beyond the one he already has in front of him. He also doesn’t have a problem not keeping it at home. However, there’s a social element to drinking that is sometimes unavoidable. He sticks to non-alcoholic drinks with you when you have to go to these events and takes you home before anyone you’re with can be too far gone. You’ll tell him that he can have a drink if he wants and that he doesn't need your permission - but he's supposed to be the one that makes you feel safest, so he’ll shrug it off. He doesn’t miss it. 

Jun 

Absolutely respects your work ethic and even admires it. But sometimes he’s concerned by how you always go in early and stay late, take on way too many responsibilities, and never, ever take a sick day or vacation. When he asks you about it, you simply say that you can’t lose this job. He can sympathize because it would be devastating to not be able to do what he does for a living, but he recognizes that it’s not passion, but rather fear, that drives you to overwork yourself. Does little things like driving you to work so you show up on time rather than super early, or making plans right after work so you can’t stay late. He’ll also book a vacation to somewhere that you just can't refuse. Anything to encourage rest, really. 

Hoshi 

Bless his heart, but he's trying to be funny. He hears you come in and hides behind a door, jumping out at you when you enter the room. Does not expect for you to cry and panic, and cries and panics himself, profusely apologizing. Once you both are calm, he doesn't press for details, accepting your explanation that someone that used to be in your life used to do that sort of thing, but that it wasn't all fun and games. Will never, ever be doing that again, and if you're ever around his group members and they get a bright idea, expect that he'll put a stop to it before it even starts. 

Wonwoo

You’ve lost someone close to you. Whether it was a shock or not, whether you were there or not, doesn’t matter. He’s sympathetic to the trauma of losing someone and knows there isn’t a ton he can do to fix it. But he’ll do the little things. He’ll make sure you eat, even if it’s a little and even if he needs to feed you. He’ll make sure you shower, even if he has to get in and wash your hair for you. He’ll make sure you find a balance between sleep and activity, even if he has to gently drag you outside for some fresh air or carry you to bed himself. Also knows you can't really acknowledge any of it right now, but he’ll keep doing it anyway. 

Woozi

You guys don't fight, well, ever. You both are too laid back. But something big happens and you both have had bad days. Jihoon’s not proud when he loses his temper a bit, shouting. Immediately does not like how you fold into yourself and back away. You’ve confided in him before that your home life involved a lot of arguing growing up. He kind of feels like he’s looking at a kid version of you in the past and it makes him feel nauseous. He takes a deep breath, apologizes, and says that you both should cool down. Later that night, you two sit on the couch, talk it out, and promise to call a timeout next time one of you gets upset. Will absolutely never raise his voice at you again.

DK 

He checks your phone for something, not trying to be invasive, but because you had something he needed. He accidentally stumbles across quite a few reminders that you're way overdue for a check up at the doctor’s office. He apologizes that he was accidentally nosy, but asks if you’ve been able to schedule it yet. He can tell that you’re uncomfortable, bordering on scared at the mention of it. You’ve told him before that you were sick as a child and spent a not-so-insignificant time in the hospital and have since then hated clinical settings. So, so understanding, but also so, so insistent that you should take care of yourself. He’ll take off work in a heartbeat to go with you and hold your hand if it will help. 

Mingyu 

You both are working on a grocery list and you ask him to add another case of bottled water. He looks at you quizzically because you already have an untouched case in the closet and the fridge is stocked. You pause, frowning. “But what if we run out?” You’ll say in a small, worried voice. He knows you’ve lived through a natural disaster or two before you moved here. You don't talk about it much, but he’s seen clips on TV before about what that can be like. He nods. “You’re right. I’ll get another one.” He gets two. That closet will never be empty if it makes you feel better. 

Minghao

You’re getting repeated phone calls from a random number. When you tell him this, at first, he nods, kind of shrugging it off. Spam calls happen all the time. (God only knows I get like ten a day from telemarketers.) Still, he watches your anxiety spike every time it happens and gently presses for a bit of an explanation. You tell him shortly that you’ve gotten harassing phone calls in the past and have had to change numbers a time or two because of it. From that point forward, if he's with you and your phone rings from an unknown number, he's holding his hand out expectantly. Doesn't matter if it’s a telemarketer or not. Will always answer the phone for you or simply get you a new number until you’re comfortable. 

Seungkwan

Listen, I think he's ready to fight any day. He’s kind of surprised when you ask if he wants to meet your parents and especially surprised at how anxious you are about it. He sees why immediately because they aren’t nice people. Tolerates very few negative or demeaning comments directed at you and certainly won't tolerate any displays of violence, so I expect this to be a short visit ending with him deciding it’s time to go. Also won’t accept any apology from you for how they behaved and after some consideration will encourage you to limit contact. 

Vernon

When you tell him early on that you don’t drive, he just shrugs. He’ll take the bus or walk with you any day. But one night, you guys have gone out. When you walk out to go home, you realize it’s raining and that you’ve missed the last bus. Vernon shrugs, saying he’ll just call an uber or taxi. You panic and he’s kind of surprised. Still, he puts his phone back up and waits for the rain to stop with you before walking home. You tell him you got into a car accident years ago and your injuries were minor, but you still don't like driving or riding in cars. You say it’s one of the reasons you live where you do, so you can just walk everywhere. Will always stick by you no matter what mode of transportation you choose. 

Chan 

You express that you don't like your new job and he’s surprised, mostly because you were so excited to start it. You tell him your coworkers are kind of cliquey, and you don't feel like you fit in. He understands, telling you that they don't have to be your friends as you can work with them. Still, you tell him you can handle a bit of rejection, but you're afraid that they might become mean or hostile, like the catty women in the last place you worked. He encourages you to focus on work for now and feel out the situation for a little bit longer. It’s not the end of the world if it doesn't work out because you still have him. Cheesy, I know, but it does make you feel better. 

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Wimbledon

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: when George wants something, he always gets it. No matter how hard she’s trying to resist.

Warnings: some curse words; implied smut, but nothing extra steamy; mostly fluff and love; George being a cocky bastard; no use of y/n

A/N: I wrote this a while ago, so I did some proof reading, but it still can hold some mistakes, because English is not my first language. Enjoy it, babes!

I don’t own any images, they’re from Pinterest. Please don’t use my writings without my permission!

“If I get a pole, you’re gonna go to Wimbledon with me.” George smirked looking at her, and she rolled her eyes, not amused.

“Why would I want this?” She asked with arms crossed on her chest.

“Because you wouldn’t want me to tell Susie, that you’re flirting with Toto on daily basis.” George knew about the flirting and he also knew, that she wouldn’t want to destroy the Wolffs marriage.

Clearing her throat, she looked over the people around. “You wouldn’t do this. The last thing I want is to destroy people’s lives.”

“Then you’ll go with me to the Wimbledon if I win or not.” George smirked again knowing that she’s trapped in this.

“You’re an asshole.” She said feeling little embarrassed.

“But you like it, don’t you?” He said in low voice brushing past her getting himself prepared for race. Toto saw their interaction and was curious what left her in that shook state.

“Are you okay?” Toto’s voice interrupted her reel of thoughts as she put on her okay face again.

“Yes, yes, I’m okay. I need to get back to checking the car.” She avoided his eyes as she walked quickly towards the car looking over it.

Susie walked in to the garage, surprising everyone by her presence. George smirked, he was in the process of putting on his helmet, she was looking at him with stern look while Toto was greeting Susie as a good husband would do.

“The car is okay. I think today is a good day to get you to that pole.” After a while she came to George while writing something to her papers.

“I’m gonna do everything I can to get that. Wish me luck, princess.” He said as he hopped in the car.

She just smiled a little. Maybe she was attracted to his cocky persona. Maybe she wished deep down for him to get the pole to be with him at Wimbledon.

———

And that was it. They were sitting together at the royal booth along with other celebrities. Social media were already full of their photos together and she tried to put on her best smile. Wearing the silk creamy dress with cardigan over her shoulders, she screamed royalty along with him wearing striped dark blue blazer with white shirt underneath along with tie and white pants. Like they were born to be beside each other.

When she was focused on the game, George was watching her through his sunglasses. As the one of the players won the set, she gasped in excitement. Was it from the game or from the feeling of George’s hand on her bare knee?

She turned her look at him only to see his smirk plastered on his face as he tried to look invested at the game.

She let out a little huff, placing her hand on his, nonchalantly sneaking her fingers around his palm. He squeezed her fingers lightly.

“That game is pretty interesting, don’t you think?” She leaned closer to his shoulder, speaking in low voice. He felt her breath on his neck and it made him shiver a little.

“Yeah, very intense, I would say.” He said calmly with smirk. His hand on her knee moved a little up her thigh. She took in a sharp breath. Quickly she carefully looked around them, if someone seen what he’s doing. Her hand tried to get his hand away but it resulted only in his getting even higher moving her dress to reveal more of her skin.

She looked up at him in disbelief and he was already looking at her with smirk.

“What? I thought that you find this game interesting.” He said in amused tone.

“Are you trying to embarrass me? This is not appropriate.” She said nearly whispering.

George only chuckled, averting his gaze at the court as his hand moved back adjusting her dress. Then he placed his hand in her lap, finding hers and intertwining with it. She cleared her throat being slightly calm with the outcome.

After the game, they were up to meet a Novak Djokovic, George took many photos with the fans around as she watched it. She knew there was also a people snapping photos of her with him, already conspiring what they are.

Meeting with Novak was great, she already met with him a few times.

“So, you two together here at Wimbledon, that’s something.” Novak said amused. Oh no, he’s also the one to tease it, she was thinking.

“Yeah, I needed to get my girl into that nice dress when the only thing we wear is race suits or Mercedes merch. Also we’re fans of tennis so…” George chuckled as she looked at him in slight disbelief and Novak noticed.

“Oh, your girl. I didn’t know that you’re official. Took you long enough.” Novak grinned.

“We’re not-“ she tried to have a word in this, but was interrupted by George’s hand around her waist.

“We’re not used to all that attention, so we kept it a secret for a while, but I think the Wimbledon was a great chance to get into that spotlight, don’t you think love?” George smirked looking down at her, something loving in his eyes.

She felt trapped, but understood the assignment. “That’s true. We tried to be secret for so long, that we grew tired of it. It was really exhausting.”

“Congratulations. You two are a good match, I saw it coming.” Novak winked as he walked away to prepare for his game.

She parted from George quickly, going for the champagne from the nearest bar. He just followed her calmly, because there was no chance of her escaping him.

As she gulped a champagne, he was standing beside her, getting a cup with strawberries, she knew that it was his strange tradition, getting strawberries at the Wimbledon.

He slowly took a bite from one of the berries looking around them at other people.

“So, what if I don’t want to be your girl?” She said turning her body to face him.

He scoffed looking at her. “If you really didn’t want this, you’d be fighting like a lioness back there to assure Novak, that we’re not dating. You wouldn’t be standing here with me, you wouldn’t want to be near me. So. Do you want to be my girl?” George ate another of the berries, there was something about the way he just bit into them that made her mind go wild.

“Are you serious or is it one of your games? Because I’m not some play toy, Russell.” She said in serious tone. Ah, there it was, her calling him by his surname. It was always a turn on for him.

“I’m dead serious, princess.” He grabbed another berry and gestured for her to open her mouth and she obeyed, still holding his gaze. As he was about to place a berry in her mouth, he quickly put it away and kissed her lips instead. She gasped surprised, but quickly gave into the kiss, her hands sneaking around his neck. He smirked into the kiss, feeling of her soft lips shook his entire body. She tried to deepen the kiss, her tongue softly licking on his lips, he tasted like strawberry.

They parted after a while, her hands placed on his chest to steady her in her place as his rested at her hips.

“You really are unbelievable, Russell.” She chuckled.

“If you call me Russell one more time, I’m not gonna last to the hotel room.” He said with dark gaze.

“We wouldn’t want that, right, Russell?” She leaned closer to him just for whisper into his ear with chuckle.

That was the last straw. In one hand, he held the cup with strawberries, and in another her hand as he guided them through the crowd to the parking lot, where the driver was waiting for them. When they got to the car, George took off his blazer like a gentleman, pulled off his tie, navigating the driver to their hotel. Then he averted his attention to her, getting strawberry into his hand and then to her mouth. She took it in her mouth, chewing and finally gulping. With that his lips was on hers for another round of kissing. This time it was passionate, wild and sweet. His hand on her neck, steadying her in place as she was holding him by his upper arm.

“Oh, George, you’re… really something.” She said in between the kisses when she tried to catch her breath.

“Wait until we get to the hotel. You’re gonna be more surprised.” He whispered as he bit on her lower lip.

———

The clock hit midnight, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her body wrapped in the sheets as George was getting her a glass of water. He sat beside her, watching how she downed the whole glass.

“You’re a beast, George.” She exhaled with chuckle, her face showing how she’s tired from their evening activities.

“I didn’t expect you being this wild. I clearly underestimated you.” He chuckled jokingly.

“So. Are we a thing or is this some friends with benefits kind of stuff?” She looked at him with serious look.

George retrieved the glass from her hand, putting it down on the bedside table. Then he cupped her face with his hands.

“I told you already, that you’re my girl. I would scream it to the whole world, if I could. This is not some one time thing, I really want to cherish you, take care of you, love you. Because you mean so much to me, you can’t even imagine.” His eyes were full of love, he was truly mesmerised by her.

She was ready to melt on the spot from his words.

“Beside all the teasing and banter we had to this day, I had a crush on you since you were racing for the Williams. But as time progressed I thought that you’re just cocky asshole, who wouldn’t even talk to me. And then you got to Mercedes and my head was spinning every time I needed to talk to you. That’s why I started to flirt with Toto, to clear my head and get some fun. From my side it was harmless, but I think you stepped in in right time, because he seemed to take the flirting on another level.” She ran her hand through her hair with sigh.

“You don’t need to worry now about Toto. I knew that you would never want to hurt Susie, I just wanted to poke that feelings in you, to get them to the light. And it worked.” He smirked.

“I’m so happy you did it. My heart is fluttering right now.” she chuckled leaning against his shoulder. He pulled her closer, kissing her temple.

“I was actually taken aback by you from the moment I saw you around the paddock. But I was so young and you always had that unavailable face.”

“That’s my mask to unwanted attention.” She chuckled.

“We need to get to Hungary in the morning. It’s the media day, would you like to fly with me or by yourself?” He teased her.

“You’re already trying to get rid of me this soon. Shame on you, Russell.”

“You know what it’s doing to me, you calling me that.”

———

Media day went pretty well, all eyes and cameras were on them, as they tried to keep their composure. She was stuck in the garage, preparing George’s car for the practice session, and George was sitting with the press, smiling and talking like he usually did.

“So, you and George, huh?” Toto stood beside her looking over the car casually.

“Wha- Yeah.” She was little startled by his sudden presence but she kept it cool.

“I didn’t know that you’re a thing.” Toto said a little saddened?

I didn’t know either, but here we are, she thought.

“It may seem confusing, yeah.” She chuckled while writing something to the data sheet.

“I thought that we… You know.” He leaned closer.

She took in the sharp breath pointing her pen to him, looking serious. “As much as it was flattering to talk with you, you have a family, a wife. We can’t talk like we used to. I’m sorry I let you misunderstood the situation.”

In that moment George appeared at the entrance of the garage seeing how she pointed her pen towards Toto, who looked at her with furrowed brows.

“Hey, baby.” George walked to them, standing beside her, kissing her temple, which caused her to smile happily. Toto saw that and his face softened a little.

“You’re really a good match, I see it now. But don’t let your personal life into work. You know I’m strictly against that.” Toto said with slight smile and went after other teammates.

She let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“What did he want?” George asked with concern.

“He was surprised that we’re together and that he thought me and him are something more. I reminded him, that he has a wife and family.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m so proud of you.” He said with a teasing smirk.

She rolled her eyes at him.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 45!

what a week... i'm greatly enjoying all of the post-8x06 buddie fic (many more recs to come!) and took some time to revisit old favourites, which can be found in previous rec lists. enjoy!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all that we need | not1_2write | 26.4k | M

When Buck buys a Powerball lottery ticket he doesn't think much beyond his need for change to air up his tire. He forgets all about the ticket until word spreads that the winning ticket was sold in LA and hasn't been claimed yet and pretty much dismisses it. After all, there's no way he won the lottery. Turns out no, he really did win the Powerball, to the tune of 295 million dollars and just in time for Christmas. He's going to make sure the 118 has the best Christmas of their lives. And just maybe he'll have a good one too. idk about all of you but i do dream about winning the lottery regularly (way too often for someone who's never bought a ticket, that's for sure). this is such a lovely look at what buck would do with a whole lot of money <3

i take this magnetic force of a man | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9k | M

Turns out, he isn’t actually afraid of commitment. He’s just afraid of committing to the wrong thing, or the wrong person. Ana, obviously, had been a mistake, because he hadn’t been ready, and he’d put other people’s expectations above his own wants and needs. With Marisol, he’s done the same thing. Moved too fast, doing what he thinks is the right thing according to who? His parents? For Chris’s benefit? Again, pushing past his own comfort, discarding any doubt because it doesn’t fit like… Like Buck. blanket rec for one of my favourite authors who has been posting incredible fics lately!! this one in particular is so beautifully written and so romantic and just so very buddie <3

if i need to rearrange my particules i will for you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 7.9k | GA

Eddie catches a cold and Buck takes care of him while having a minor, non-platonic emotional crisis. this is definitely influenced by the fact that i've been ill myself but wow truly nothing hits as hard as buddie taking care of each other when one of them isn't feeling well. the bed sharing in this is so good <3

let me | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 1.6k | T

Eddie doesn't think he needs romance. Buck, respectfully, disagrees. AKA the fic where Buck picks Eddie up and kisses him breathless against a wall. and buck is so right for doing that!! i love it when buck turns eddie to jello <3 so lovely!

second child, restless child | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 23k and counting| M

how Evan and Maddie make it out of Pennsylvania, and Buck and Maddie build a family. okay so listen these past few weeks i've been doing this thing where i only rec finished fics, and every time i scroll through my ao3 history for these rec lists, i come across this one and go oh i wish i could rec this already. and then i realised wait it's my rec list i can do whatever i want, and so then i did. anyway, mind the tags for this one, but wow are you in for a treat here! i love the character dynamics (chim is brilliant in this!! and maddie!!) and i'm so so excited to see the rest of this fic unfold <3

said that i was fine, said it from my coffin | justhockey/tumblr | 7.3k | T

And it doesn’t matter that he feels like he’s dying. Like the version of himself that he’s always been is suddenly a stranger to him - just a mask he’d spent his entire life hiding behind, without ever even realising he was wearing it. It doesn’t matter that Eddie is…that he’s gay. Because he knows - as surely as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow - that the only person he has ever, and will ever, truly love is Buck. And Buck isn’t his to love. another blanket rec for an author who's been posting incredible fics!! this one in particular has such brilliant eddie characterisation and i just devoured it the second i got that little ao3 email hehe

there's no place like home-spun | icewhisper | 4.1k | GA

Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.). this fic makes me want to learn how to crochet. i am the least crafty person ever and i have like minus time but just know that if two weeks from now i'm posting about yarn and crochet hooks and whatnot, it's all thanks to this fic. i love buck who crochets so very much <3

you get your dreams for free | llovely/@butchdiaz| 14.9k | T

five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober. buddie bed sharing my absolute favourite. i read this late at night curled up under three blankets and it hit just right <3

[nine-one-wanton]

Entropy

“A transfer?” Bobby said, incredulously.

“Yeah..” Tommy confirmed, feigning nonchalance. “I, uh. I used to fly a little.. back in the army, and.. I kind of miss it, I guess.”

“Really?” Bobby asked skeptically, searching Tommy through narrowed eyes as if he was keeping his real reasons in a secret pocket somewhere.

Tommy nodded. Not making eye contact.

“Listen, Tommy. I know me coming here was a big change. And Deluca leaving.. really shook the team up.”

“It’s nothing you did, Captain Nash. I actually agreed with your decision with Sal. I.. I’ve agreed with every decision you’ve made for this house.”

“So you support my leadership, have built a healthy connection with your team, and are.. frankly, thriving here, and.. You still feel the need to uproot yourself?”

Tommy’s jaw tightened. But he nodded. “I guess I always knew I wasn’t going to stay here forever.. And, I feel like you’re gonna find better people to fill out this crew. I mean, I get that you’re not trying to actively recruit them now.. but.. you’ll find them.”

Bobby didn’t know what to say.

“You know that you’re a part of this, right? I see the future of the 118, and I see you in it. I don’t think of you as.. being on the outside in any way, Tommy.”

Bobby watched as a whole fleet of emotions tore through Tommy’s silence.

“I believe you that you think that, Cap. But.. I.. don’t.”

“Oh..” Bobby said, trying not to feel like he’d been punched in the gut. “I am sorry to hear that, Tommy. I didn’t realize..”

“Again, it’s nothing that you did. I appreciate the way that everyone has accepted me as part of this.. ‘New 118’, and believe me.. It’s a hell of a lot better than the old one. I just can’t help feeling like..” Tommy shook his head. “This is a great house, it’s just not my house.”

But it could be! Bobby wanted to say.

But he recognized the look in Tommy’s eyes. He recognized it like looking in a mirror. The feeling that when things were getting too good, you had to get out before it all collapsed on top of you..

He wanted to tell Tommy that it was okay to let things be better. To let people in and allow them to help you to hold up the good things, so that they wouldn’t necessarily tend toward collapse over time.

If he, Chim, and Hen all wanted Tommy on their team - Tommy should trust that, and not just.. remove himself because - for whatever reason - he didn’t feel that he deserved something nice, and warm, and stable, and.. healthy.

But Bobby was not capable of giving that speech.

Not when he himself didn’t believe it.

He knew his time with the 118 was numbered as well. His eyes subconsciously flicker to his little black book.

“I understand why you feel like you need to move on,” Bobby said, even if he didn’t fully understand, he understood enough. “Just know, this is not what we would have chosen. I wish you the best at the 217. It truly is our loss.”

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  6 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: "the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." - oscar wilde

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

Despite what happened, you would have done anything to face Father Sylus again. 

He was the type of person who radiated energy from within, dedication unlike anyone you had ever met - which could be a good or a bad thing. The thoughts became an obsession, all that seemed to fill your brain. The recollection of his touch made you sweat. It was the last thing you thought about before drifting off to sleep, the first thing you thought about when you woke, and the next few days stretched.  One thing was sure: you longed to see him again, if only for the courage to apologize.  But did you even have to apologize? He was the one who had kissed you first, right?  It was so unbelievably confusing. You’d talk yourself through circles; for once, no amount of sleeping seemed to help.  You weren’t even given the option to sleep it all off anyway or mellow properly in your self-pity. Upon learning of your ‘arrest’ from Talia, your father forced you out of the house that Sunday to go to church with him.  “What’s going on with you, Y/N?” Dad raised his eyebrows and frowned as he gripped the steering wheel, and you could tell he was trying hard not to get angry or frustrated. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, hon. You came back, and you’re acting weird.  Can you just tell me what’s wrong?”  Shaking your head, you shrugged, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact on the door handle, ignoring your dad’s question and wishing he’d just leave you alone.  “You went from being happy to totally distraught since you moved out. What am I supposed to think here, huh?”  ‘Maybe everything went to total fucking shit,’ was what you wanted to say, and tried not to roll your eyes. Dad tried so hard to not act like the authoritarian or pushy father, especially after your mother had died. He was never like that. And it was because of that you figured it was time to be at least a little truthful.  “I quit my job. I don’t know what I’m going to do from here, but -” you said, “I just…needed some time to think things through.”  Your dad parked the car and turned to offer you a subtle smile. You were convincing enough, obviously. “Okay, fine. Work in the store until you figure it out. It’ll be like old times.” One hand gripped the steering wheel as he looked at you, almost seeming to peer into your brain as his eyes flicked ever so slightly. “So, uh, is this about your mom? I didn’t know you were still upset about that. I should’ve tried to talk to you more.”  You bit down your reply, feeling a bitter taste in the back of your throat, and willing it away.  “No, it isn’t. Just forget about it.”  A long sigh filled the small space as your father pressed his lips together. “Christ, I can’t be mad at you right now. I’ve always let you do what you want.”  This was strange, a particular ache settling inside and spreading to your limbs like an infection. Maybe it wouldn’t stop now that it had started. And the first instinct was to get away and run. Run and run and just get away.  “Hon, Y/N,” Your Dad’s voice was pleading, and you nearly missed it. “We can go talk to -”  “No!” You blurted, immediately regretting it, mortified at just the thought. How did you speak so fast? “No, it’s fine. Let’s just go inside. We’re gonna be late.”

You didn’t feel any better inside the church, but you weren’t expecting much to begin with. All you could do was suck it up and seat yourself beside your dad. It wasn’t crowded, but there were a few unfamiliar faces, so maybe not everyone would notice your fucked up mood. 

Everything felt surreal. You were sitting there in church with the sun streaming through the stained glass windows, and your gaze landed on the one depicting the Virgin Mary.

The word ethereal came to mind. 

Everything seemed like it would evaporate into thin air. Like if you moved too quickly, you’d wake up from one of those dreams that just turned out to be inside of another dream. 

And when a hush fell over the congregation, you had no choice but to look forward. No matter how your brain fizzes or your fingers tingle. You were forced to look at that handsome face in front of the church and feel the emotion well inside you. Something that felt different than embarrassment or frustration. 

Even from this distance, Father Sylus exudes that particular aura, daring to fill the whole church with its strength. You are once again reminded of how inescapable his presence is—not through belief or goodness, but something, someone who felt unearthly, even celestial, as absurd as it felt. 

Ethereal. Once again, with that pretty word. How could you even begin to explain it? It was so easy to feel some sort of bitterness, perhaps even selfishness. Who could blame you? Everything always seemed too simple when you looked at it from a distance. 

“Good morning,” He began, his voice taking on that strangely powerful, lilting cadence. He paused, hands clasping, and his posture was different. Shoulders broad, spine straight, chin lifted slightly. “I want to take a moment before we begin to discuss why we’re here.” 

You were drawn to his words, which had formed an invisible link to you. Maybe if you closed your eyes like you did at night, you could picture that night in the car. It felt foolish because you were certain your own thoughts were desperate. How stupid did it make you seem, trying to replay the sensation? A stupid crush. That is all you wanted it to amount to, even if looking into his fiery gaze had made you feel like you were melting.

“We’re here, in the house of the Lord. Why is this?” 

If a month’s insistence on chasing after a flame could be compared to anything -

 “Free will.” His tone picked up. “Through our actions, we make conscious decisions. As far as humankind is concerned, free will also makes us human.” 

Your breathing stilled. Something terrible seized your gut, a cramping feeling causing you to grit your teeth. 

“This is a sanctified place,” he continued, voice rich and filled with energy. “Within these walls, you should experience peace. Not conflict or anger. All are free here because it is with our actions that we build ourselves.”

How the hell did he manage this? The words continued spilling from his mouth, something pulling you further. And after a pause, his gaze filtered over the room again - and landed on you. 

Time was beginning to stand still, and you swore your face began to heat up. But, thankfully, the look didn’t linger on you, moving on as he cleared his throat. 

Well, fuck. 

There was only a tiny shift in expression, and perhaps you were the only one to notice how his pause seemed more lengthy than those before it. 

"We - uh.” Father Sylus made a show of glancing down at the notes before him and shuffling a few pages. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat again, a little louder this time. “What I mean to say is, with free will, we struggle against our urges and temptations. Sin beckons - uh,” another loud cough. He looked nervous. Vulnerable. In more ways than one. 

Father Sylus hastily pushed aside the pages, shoulders lifting in a deep breath before looking again at the people gathered. He straightened a little, and his powerful tone returned as he folded his hands neatly. “So, how do we resist? It can be hard to…admit one’s faults.” He let out a little huff of air, glancing down again. Then, he stepped away from the podium, stepping along the carpeted dais, hands clasped behind his back and thumbs tapping against each other. 

The congregation started shifting. A glance here and there, unable to guess what he would say next. Probably wondering why their priest was acting so…off. If you weren’t glued to your seat in, well, any number of the emotions you were feeling now - you would have high-tailed it out of there already. But instead, you were frozen in place, feeling like an outsider, feeling the shift in the air more than the others around you. 

“Take those feelings and multiply them by ten.” He stated, looking towards the back of the church at nothing in particular. It was as if he was somewhere only his mind knew. 

“Opportunity is often just an invitation to sin, yes. Free will is a man’s greatest power but also his biggest weakness. With that power comes responsibility. Satan doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns in the middle of the night.” 

Oh God.

 There was a tense pause and stillness, and you wonder how you managed to sit here and listen. Those crimson eyes trailed around the room, but for another second, a brief and terrifying second, they burned into you.

“Satan comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.” He laughed, bitter and slightly hoarse. Then his eyes snapped forward again, unabashed. 

He coughed, cleared his throat again, and gestured with a finger above his head. “We all - well, we all think we can overcome any challenge. Big or small. Big and small.” Father Sylus let out a shaky exhale. “Um, the point is...The point is that the devil is ready to collect when you can’t. So, the point is that - uh,” His tone shifted to something smaller that made your insides tremble agonizingly. A breathless, tight sort of anxiousness that stole through your lungs and caused your heart rate to increase. It was impossible to deny that despite the words coming out of his mouth, you actually wanted to hear him continue. “Um, sometimes I think the hardest thing is that we are human, and we are weak.” 

Before he could even continue, his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed, grimacing, an anguish that you recognized. “Excuse me.” He looked like he might break, the wavering tension almost stifling the room, his expression almost tormented. 

“I’m sorry. Excuse me.” And with that, he disappeared into the back, leaving everyone shocked. 

Everyone except for you. 

“And that’s why I’m never going to church again.” You rolled your eyes as you leaned against one of the shelves in your dad’s store, looking over at Rafayel, who was leaning against the counter, making it his personal mission to get every last drop out of an iced coffee. “You should have seen the look on his face. What a fuck up.” 

Rafayel wrinkled his nose, looked around the otherwise empty store, and then glanced at his phone. “Yikes. Poor guy.” He sighed and tapped his foot on the floor. “Talia came home and said he had a migraine - but it’s even more hilarious that a near-public breakdown was because of you.” 

“My God, you are awful.” You frowned and stepped forward to lightly punch his arm, reaching out and catching his elbow with a grimace as he pretended to almost fall over. “That’s a horrible thing to say! You were the one who was practically encouraging me!” 

“I would never,” Rafayel huffed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Anyway, it’s been almost a week now. You’re gonna have to suck it up and face him sooner or later.” With a firm nod, he shook off your hold and dusted his hand on the faded denim of his jeans, turning his attention back to his phone and shaking the ice in the cup he held. 

“How would I do that?” You asked. 

As if oblivious, Rafayel arched a brow and smiled tightly, peering at you over the edge of his phone. His tone was less-than-reassuring, sounding almost pitying. “No fucking idea.” 

You opened your mouth to argue but thought better of it as the shop door opened, just in time for the chilly afternoon to bring in your dad and Xavier. You took a deep breath at the sound of the bell and forced yourself to calm down.

As if on cue, Rafayel pushed himself away from the counter and looked in your direction. “Well, Y/N.” He said, tossing a wink in your direction that made you want to reach out and knock the silly grin off his face. “Good luck.” With that, he turned and walked out of the store with a shake of his head. 

Your dad mumbled something under his breath before tossing a wave a little too late and heading into the back of the small building. 

Unease had settled in your stomach at your friend's departure. You felt as if you had more to say, ask, or get a general idea of as you stared at the shop's door. You ran a hand over your tired face and sighed. 

“Hi,” Xavier gave you a careful, controlled smile as you turned toward his voice. “Need help with anything?” 

You tried your best not to fidget or bite your lip. “No, but it’s nice of you to offer.” You shrugged and glanced away briefly. “Why? Got nothing else to do?” 

“Uh, I work here?” He blinked as he stepped forward. You could take in his softening facial features now that he was closer. His smile didn’t quite fade as he looked around the quiet shop. “Anyway - I um. I tried to call you last night? About dinner?” 

Tilting your head in confusion, you froze. Then, you processed the sentence. 

Dinner. Shit. 

“Oh! My phone went missing. I’m sure it’ll turn up soon or something. Wasn’t the nicest phone anyways,” you brushed some hair behind your ear. “I still can’t figure out how it disappeared!” You forced a laugh at your lie and shifted uncomfortably.

You’d completely forgotten about agreeing to go out with him. How fucking stupid were you? So caught up in the idea of -

“Well, uh, I didn’t plan much. So it’s okay, we can just do something another night. Right?” Xavier suggested, and you couldn’t tell if he had let it go so quickly or was suspicious about your behavior. 

Either way, you smiled, rationalizing with yourself for what felt like the millionth time that spending time with him would be a good thing. Any way to keep your mind distracted. Clearly, he still wanted to go out with you, and you certainly wouldn’t say no. After all, who could blame you for latching on anyone who showed the slightest interest? 

This would be a step in the right direction, right? Things would get better. They had to. No matter how weird it felt for you to think so. 

“That’s fine. Sorry, my head’s all over the place.” 

The worst part of it all was the sudden weight in your stomach, the ache in your chest that was becoming all too tiring. Something pushed you in the complete opposite direction of the young man in front of you, towards what you really wanted, and had no explanation for why you did. 

“Y/N?” Xavier spoke again and stepped closer, watching your expression with careful scrutiny, his hand reaching out to touch yours, giving you a new feeling of unease. “Hey, um, - you alright?” 

Your heart wrenched a little at the worry, and you wondered exactly how pathetic you appeared. “I think so. Can you take over? I gotta step out for a while.”

It grew colder as you walked along the sidewalk, sticking your hands inside your jacket pockets. Clouds gathered in the distance, inching their way towards the suburb. The air smelled fresher, as if it might snow lightly sometime at night. A breeze swept over the street, stirring pieces of your hair from its confines, and you briefly thought you should have remembered your scarf. 

Then, you came to a stop in front of the church. 

You looked down at your outfit, the jeans and the oversized blue sweater you had found in your mom's closet, when you couldn’t be bothered to do your own laundry. Perhaps she would give you strength, or at least enough willpower from wherever she was to give you the courage to turn right the fuck around and go back home.  She was always straightforward in that way, even without the drinking. If only you had taken after her in that aspect. 

For a moment, you almost turned to leave, giving yourself the opportunity to simply walk away and go home. However, after a few seconds of mental debate, you stepped along the worn walkway and up the steps, slipping your hand out of your pocket to place it on the worn wooden door. 

Somewhere in your mind was a glimmer of hope, the possibility of resolve.

Now that you had gathered whatever courage you had left, you took one last, bracing breath before pushing the door open. A jolt of energy speared up your arms, a buzzing sensation against your fingertips. Once you were inside, everything felt eerily silent. Almost too silent. But as the familiar warmth enveloped you, your body relaxed slightly as you shrugged off your jacket. 

The last light from the day was casting through the windows, and the interior was a muted, golden glow and soft orange. It felt warm in more ways than one. Despite the hushed nature of the building, energy thrummed within you. The atmosphere was inviting, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite muster the ability to step forward any further, feet stuck to the floor beneath you. It was ironic, yet in a way, expected; you felt like crying or throwing something, but maybe punching Father Sylus would give you the most satisfaction. 

The chapel seemed alien to you as you made your way further inside. 

Loneliness was all-consuming, a fear ever present and threatening in the back of your mind. You wondered why it hurt so much. And, you considered whether you have ever experienced a real connection in your life. You zeroed in on the cross beyond the rows of pews as if you could use it for answers. It glinted a little in the evening light that filtered through the stained glass. Your eyes felt dry as they fixed upon the illuminated wood, searching, listening, walking towards the front of the church like a mouse. 

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” You asked your question out loud. The silence of the building taunted you in return, and something constricted within your chest. The rush of it all was consuming, filling your every thought with hope and expectation. A breath sucked in, and you shook your head, blinking. Everything felt off, and you had no idea what your body was supposed to do with itself. “This is so fucked. You know, this is all…just so messed up,” you choked out the whisper and, with a small gasp, swallowed. The emotions swelled. Heavy and pounding and suddenly overwhelming. 

Who gave a shit? Nothing would change. 

But, maybe - 

Would God be willing? Could He lift the spell put on you that would continue to grow? 

“Mom is dead, and she’s not coming back.” The words spilled and dropped like shattered glass. “And, uh, it’s just like, that’s fucked up. Isn’t it? Please, it’s - well, I wish I knew, God damn it. Motherfucker!” You swore louder than you should have, not recognizing your own voice. A feeling that had no name gripped your heart. This was it. You were giving up. “Totally fucked up. And you go and make me do stupid shit? What kind of test is that?” 

Only silence answered. You wondered how you should feel. As angry as you were, it felt strange to voice it. Finally, saying the words brought unusual comfort, and it was too easy to admit everything now. “Yeah, yeah. You should really apologize, God. Lord. Jesus. Whatever.” 

“I’m sorry.” The voice that spoke back did not belong to you. Echoing off the walls and the stained glass, it sent a jolt up your spine, causing you to spin in its direction. Leaning against a doorframe was Father Sylus, looking down at the floor, that shameful expression resurfacing on his face. You witnessed the repentant facade as he lifted his head and looked at you. 

It felt like a flood rushed through you, coursing, washing away the anger, seeping into every cell, and filling you with something new. Warm and soft, somehow breaking you apart as it passed. Something indecipherable but true. 

Something almost wonderful and exhilarating. 

He looked like something you could draw. That raw, exposed sort of aura. 

That same warmth enveloped your heart, the comfort expanding across your chest. There was something profound and affectionate within his gaze and the sense that you had underestimated what was truly meant by the phrase ‘care and concern.’

It could have been a few seconds. Or minutes passed as you stood rooted to the spot. The beating of your heart seemed to echo in your ears. Blood pulsed through your veins, the silence around you growing louder. 

“For what?” You were almost afraid to speak up. 

“For whatever you’re feeling,” Father Sylus stated plainly. Then he straightened, and his look shifted, and for a split second, he stepped forward, only to pause with his fingers twitching at his sides. Maybe there was confusion flickering in his gaze. Or longing. But he still didn’t move from where he stood, as if unable to break the tension he had with himself. After a time, he studied your face and added, “For everything and for nothing.” 

After a moment of thought, you shook your head. “That’s vague.” 

“It’s all I’ve got.” Father Sylus ran a hand behind his neck, almost nervously, eyes shifting and gaze searching. Another pause lingered between you, and you blinked a few times. He opened and closed his mouth, finally settling on placing both his hands on his hips, inclining his head to look at the stained glass windows. “That…and guilt.” 

His admission seemed weighted, and his voice was heavy. You watched him take a step forward, then hesitate. 

In that second, there was a great leap in understanding. You understood that he would not look directly at you because it would break this sacred reverence between you and whatever else was going on within his mind. 

Maybe it’d always been a game, and perhaps you knew deep down that this would be his next move. The inevitable, silent communication. Slowly, you folded your shaky arms over your chest. The look that flashed in his eyes made you shudder. With a new boldness, you swallowed and whispered: “Why are you telling me this?” 

Exhaling hard, you weren’t sure whether to scream, laugh, or cry as you awaited your answer.

He swallowed, his dark gaze teeming like a fire in the low light, the red burning. His lip curled. “Because I feel like you can understand it. Why I feel this way.” 

A sick urge, sharp and needy, had you crossing the space between you, the air shaking and trembling as he finally took another stride forward. Your eyes traced over his face. Deep and pained and beautiful. His chest heaved. A strange, bittersweet satisfaction filled you. 

“I - I can’t stop thinking about -” you broke off, words quivering as you spoke. “Us. The other night - it keeps going through my head, what I said, and -” your voice was breaking again, the achy, miserable desperation settling in. 

You could tell he was holding his breath, hands now clenched into fists, gaze searching and uncertain. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.” The words hung heavy as he stepped closer, finally closing the distance between you, tilting your chin, and forcing you to look at him. The grip held you firmly, though his eyes remained gentle and pleading. “I want nothing more than to pray - beg for your forgiveness. Try and restore whatever trust I’ve betrayed - but in all truth, God, I -” 

Another thick swallow, and he paused, the corner of his mouth twisting. He squeezed your chin lightly as if in search of some answer. Then his hand fell to his side, his head turning to look at the cross behind the altar. Something burned beneath your ribs. 

“What is it?” You whispered, trembling with the effort of not spilling all your unresolved thoughts. “Tell me - tell me something, anything, or - or -” You stopped yourself, feeling a little pathetic at not being able to formulate the proper words. 

“My path was never exactly clear, but,” Father Sylus swallowed thickly, sounding more scared than ever. “Someone I loved when I was younger - she -” A long sigh escaped his lips. “We were each other's firsts and…We loved each other very much.” He exhaled again. His face creased into sadness, reminiscent and haunting. A sharp pain, almost. One that lingered from emotions held within. The truth was there, plain as day, naked, heartbroken, and fragile. “She died when she was eighteen.” 

Pain squeezed at you mercilessly, tight and almost bone-crunching. You stepped closer, your brain slowly putting it all together, realization hitting. Then your bottom lip trembles as you reach out, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say after a moment, “that must have been -” Another pause, trying to settle your lungs into a steadier breathing pattern. 

He squeezed your hand, looking at you, catching your gaze and holding it, unwavering. “I went to her funeral in a church far bigger than this one with twice the congregation. And later that day, when they put her down into the ground, I listened to the Monsignor pray over her soul.” He looked away again, this time up at the beams in the ceiling. “And I really listened to what he was saying for the first time. And I don’t know why, I just suddenly felt…” He trailed off, and you moved your hand further up his arm, willing him to continue by pressing your fingertips gently into his forearm. 

He smiled at the ceiling, faint and apologetic. “I felt at peace. Everything clicked into place. As stupid as that sounds. It was like something I couldn’t understand but needed. And, well,” he shrugged. 

“At last, it finally made sense to me,” he muttered. “The power God holds over us was always right there.” Then he turned to face you, his fingers reaching and resting on your cheek, tracing the soft skin of your jaw. “And now, I stand before you - finding these feelings again, the first true connection I’ve felt in years. I don’t mean to doubt anything…but I don’t know how to...” 

He let his voice drift off before tucking your hair behind your ear, movements tender. You wondered what he could see in your expression. 

“How did she die?” You asked quietly as if the question would destroy something in the air, but you needed to ask it anyway. 

The corners of his mouth trembled as he stroked his thumb along your jawline, offering you a small, grim smile. “She was mad at something, drank herself sick. Decided a joy ride on a motorcycle might be a good idea,” he turned his gaze to the ceiling again, and it finally hit you that he kept doing that as a trick to keep himself from crying. “She lost control and swerved, hit a wall head-on. Died on impact. Stupid girl with the dumbest ideas. She used to talk about seeing if the world curved or if the stars continued forever. She was funny and smart - but not as smart as she should have been. Her blood alcohol level came back three times the legal limit.” 

“That’s horrible,” you breathed. The puzzle pieces were assembled together. A crash. Drunk. How similar it was to your mother. Only your mother hadn’t met death head-on. It was still one of those things that made you wonder; which would have been worse? The chance was so similar yet unique. Still, as Father Sylus spoke about it, you swore you felt the faint sorrow he must still carry within himself.

“Sylus, I’m -” 

“Don’t be sorry.” He said, finally regaining a certain poise about his face, somehow managing to look warm even at this moment, smiling very softly. 

At his words, you realized you were breathing harder than before, and it didn’t go unnoticed as he scanned your face. You didn’t know what was wrong with you; you felt an emotion you could no longer explain. He had experienced loss, same as you, just not in the same way. 

Father Sylus let out a dry snort. “It’s not a happy memory, but something good comes from pain. Distrust to trust. Fear to courage. Hatred to love. To an extent, those things make you understand and appreciate everything.” 

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his middle, convincing yourself you would forget how to breathe if you didn’t. You embraced him because it felt like the right thing to do, the smoothness of his shirt beneath your fingertips. His hand ran up along your side until it rested on your neck's base, soft, gentle, and warm. He exhaled a little before resting his chin on the top of your head. 

As he held you, you realized that this was what you had wanted. This was what you had really been aching for. Everything shifted again, changing, rushing with a tangle of nerves and dizziness. Nothing else would settle more easily than being cradled right there, where you could breathe him in. 

“Hey, do you -” He leaned back, both hands cupping your face, tilting it to meet his own. It took him a moment to formulate his question. “I shouldn’t ask, but - do you still want me?” 

Of course you did. More than anything. 

But even then, you should have stepped away. Should have walked out without another word, back to whatever fucking regular life you thought you had. But with whatever strength you had left, you pushed everything aside and quietly said, “Yes.” 

He had pressed you against the wooden door of the office, pinning you in place after dragging you in there and shutting the door. Not that you really had any intention of going anywhere. Not with his lips moving against yours, the desperation sending sparks along your skin.  His tongue darted out, parting your lips and moving into your mouth. Hungry and forceful and tasting every inch.

“You know,” he said as he pulled back, taking a second to breathe, “It’s so hard to be good when you’re so…” He trailed off, leaving you to only imagine what he would say. 

No, you had no words or any logical thoughts, really. Perhaps this was the closest thing to heaven you’d ever feel, surely. And Father Sylus ran his hands down your sides, slow and possessive, grabbing fistfuls of your sweater and bunching it up. Heat began spreading throughout your body as his fingertips crept underneath and stoked along the sensitive skin. 

“Will you let me in?” He mumbled, his lips now on the underside of your jaw as his palms spanned across your stomach as if trying to map out every inch of exposed skin. The blood pounded in your veins, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat.

“If this is what it feels like to be tempted,” you mused, gasping as he sucked on the skin above your collarbone, gripping the front of his shirt. “I have already failed. Miserably.” 

Letting out a hot breath that sounded an awful lot like laughter, he pulled away, a smile stretching across his lips, amused. “I suppose you really have,” he chuckled. His hands gripped your hips and spun you around so you were against his desk. Then he ducked down to press more kisses along your throat. The shivers returned as he lifted your sweater over your head, tossing it aside with another wicked grin. And for the first time, you noticed the hint of a dimple in the corner of his mouth. 

After a moment, Father Sylus fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until that, too, was discarded, skin suddenly bare. The sight made you stop, observing for a moment. For the first time, your fingers reached out and touched the skin of his chest, moving over the muscles and across his stomach. You marveled at the way he flinched slightly, inhaling sharply at your touch. 

Everything felt…hot, heavy, and inappropriate in the best way. 

And before you knew it, his hands were running up along the bare skin of your stomach, a barely-there brush that made your breath hitch. Then his hands were behind your back, unhooking your bra as his lips found yours again, rough and fervent. As it was removed, there was not a second of delay before his hands cupped both of your breasts, squeezing and drawing his thumbs over your nipples. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his hands shifted, fingers resting along the waistband of your jeans. 

It was like every little action was becoming overwhelming, sending pulsing waves through every nerve, vein, and muscle. When he popped the button, slid the zipper, and slowly eased the jeans down, the pulsing only got stronger—dizzying with its intensity. It was challenging to focus on anything else that would make more sense. Your mind was clouded. 

“Wait,” you breathed, sitting on the desk, pulling the clip from your hair and tossing it to the floor, the waves tumbling out. His hands never left you, still roaming over every little centimeter of you they could get access to, “I -” 

It didn’t need to be said, whatever it was. Because a grin broke out across his lips. A bright, glorious grin as Father Sylus pressed another harsh kiss to your lips like he could swallow the words down.

Stepping closer, he maneuvered you onto your back, your legs dangling over the edge of the desk. The smooth, cool wood pressed against the length of your spine and shoulders as you heard something that sounded like a book fall somewhere behind you. He gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, blunt nails digging in. Breath hitching, your heart thumped at the roughness and passion of his movements. Something animalistic and unrestrained lay just beneath the surface, waiting, ready. 

“Let me,” he urged quietly, fingers winding over the lace underwear, dragging them down the length of your legs. Fingers stroked up again, curling and caressing your inner thighs, one hand finally reaching the place where you were already desperate, soaking wet, and aching to be touched. Without hesitation, a digit dipped, sliding along your slick folds and slipping in easily. The motion made you bite down on your tongue as his other hand ran along the underside of your knee, urging your leg up and apart. 

You felt the pad of his thumb gliding over the little bundle of nerves, back and forth in a way that made you groan. 

“You are,” his voice was low, almost a growl, and his teasing continued. “So gorgeous, laying there. I can’t stop looking at you.” One finger became two. Slick and hot as they moved into you, each stroke moving deeper. All too suddenly, his lips were crashing down against yours, kissing you hard and desperately as if set on devouring you whole. 

The only thing keeping you stable was grabbing his shoulder and his upper arm. The sudden rise of pressure rushed around you. His thumb slipped, pressing down a bit more on your clit, drawing another gasp from you, a sound that filled the room. Then he pulled his hand away, an invisible weight settling when the digits were gone, leaving you empty and still aching for more. 

“I’m on birth control,” you managed, eyes blinking rapidly as you processed that this, in fact, was actually about to happen. The fullness beneath your belly was spooling tighter, coiling. 

It was only a few seconds; that’s all it took for him to undo his belt buckle, his length freed. Straining, leaking, begging to be inside you. The size of it makes you swallow a certain anxious lump in your throat. 

“Please.” The word spilled out before you could stop it. The coil inside you grew more and more tense and throbbing. You needed it now; the consequences didn’t matter, nor did the guilt or shame. “Please.”

His breathing hitched as if a long controlled flame within had been ignited. One of his hands rested on your hip, the other hooking under your opposite knee, parting you further and steadying himself. The tip of his cock pressed at your center. You didn’t have any time to prepare because, at that very moment, he was pushing further, sliding into you inch by inch. 

The heat and fullness and pleasure coursed, trembling through you. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, face buried in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the grin in his tone, the soft desperation in his voice. “You, you -” but his breath choked off as he pushed all the way inside, the moan that ripped through him cracked and hoarse. 

It took you a moment to feel him fully, gasping for air and dazed beyond what was really necessary. Holding tight, you wrapped an arm around his neck, exhaling hard. The room became a haze around the two of you, the entire moment almost suspended, paused, put on hold. 

When he moved his hips again, you whimpered as he hit somewhere deep, and your pleasure spiked. 

“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, raising himself just enough to look at you, eyes glinting with a certain fervor. A little dark, a little feral, something wildly possessive and hungry and yearning all at once. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. Another jolt shot through you. Another strong thrust, this one harder than the last, followed by another. And another. It took a minute for him to set a rhythm, but when he did - you were sure the air was being pushed from your lungs each time. 

You couldn’t do anything but hang on. His mouth met yours in a sloppy, forceful kiss. Gasping and shuddering, you tried not to shout at the next jolt. The constant grind fills you every time. Deeper and sharper. The steady, thrumming pleasure. Intense and focused, as if Father Sylus were on a mission. Searching for something. Finding each sweet spot with whatever desperate greed drove him. Like now that he’d had the taste of something forbidden, he wanted the best of it - anything you could offer. 

He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he hooked your leg over his shoulder, the deep angle making you arch from the desk. 

One hand tangled in his hair, the other on his shoulder, gripping hard and pulling him closer, trying to keep him buried deep inside of you. The friction built, the pace driving forward and drawing the pressure up, leaving you malleable and aching for release. But somehow, wanting it to last as long as possible. 

When the pleasure spooled tighter and tighter, every breath came short, coming fast and shorter. Until finally with one long, breathy whimper of an exhale, release washed over you, crashing like a wave. His name slipped out of your mouth, some deep, instinctual part of your brain keeping you present enough to utter it, still pulsing around him, shaking. 

And that brought him there, a little broken sound falling from his lips. Hips snapping, driving just the slightest bit further until he groaned into the side of your neck, spilling inside you. After a moment, the stillness settled between the two of you, heavy and thick. There was no actual sound other than ragged breathing. 

You stared at the ceiling, trembling and a bit boneless, wholly dumbfounded and satisfied. Then, with every ounce of energy left, you sat up, placing a hand on his chest.

“You okay?” 

A rush flooded through you at his question, and you struggled to make sense - to be logical and reasonable. 

“Yeah,” you said quickly, “I just. I…” What was the right wording? You trailed off, eyes focused somewhere beyond him. Struggling, you kept your eyes away. How could you possibly articulate the warmth that had settled over you, the lift in your confusion that had been gnawing at you until this moment? How could you explain feelings that make no real sense? 

“I feel at peace.” A near whisper because your words made it tangible, whatever it was. And really, you did feel lighter. It was as if something weighing on your shoulders had lifted in a way that wasn’t just because of the act that had been performed. 

“Really?” A sharp inhale of his breath. 

You nodded, reaching out to hold his face and running your thumbs along his cheekbones. Father Sylus slowly returned the nod, a tentative but wonderful, hopeful smile quirking up his lips—something bright and genuine, untouched by bitterness or remorse.

Serenity had sunken in with a comforting familiarity. Settling inside, like the feeling of returning home. Like the truth had opened its door. Acceptance and serenity. Understanding. Clarity, even. The knowledge you weren’t as broken or faulty as you thought. 

A moment passed, no words spoken. Then, still breathless and maybe a bit disbelieving, Father Sylus reached out and traced a cross on your brow with his thumb. 

“Did you just -” You blinked, a bit indignant as you huffed. “Did you just…bless me?”

He looked a bit sheepish, hands resting on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing gentle circles along your collarbone. “Guess I did.” With a slight chuckle, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91

[ooftale]

This game, god I love this game

ok so Im copying and pasting the rant for the game from my Insta under the cut + the alt vers, PLEASE Im just expressing my love for the game in it but it's too late for me to rewrite the whole thing

I wish Tumblr would let me post with music like Insta,,, this is a zillion times better with the "Niko and the World Machine" song gah

God this game is a masterpiece though, OK if u wanna read more do it under here:

OKAY here's the rant!!

oh my god i fucking LOVE THIS GAME SO MUCH. I SWEAR. I CANNOT FUCKING EXPRESS. MY LOVE. FOR THIS GAME. Almost a year has passed since my first One Shot Post (doesn't apply to Tumblr, last One Shot post here is more recent) and almost a year has passed since my first playthrough

It wasn't really a blind playthrough, iirc i already knew lots of stuff about the story, ending and even the solstice run itself, too, it was already part of my interests to an extent, but I didn't know or remembered the details, and experiencing it myself still felt like a fully blind Playthrough (gotta again thank my shitty memory too), and was it freaking beautiful,,, plus, i finished it around xmas time, which is like my fave period of the year, so!! I still remember i got a photo of the TV while I was playing, there were gorgeous purple lights, both from LEDs and both from the game, since it was becoming dark outside, with little xmas lights around,, gah this game holds such a special place in my heart, I don't think any other game captured my love as much as this one, SURE, Im a big lover of many MANY games, and this one isn't even the first indie rpg i ever got into (hello Undertale and deltarune), and while those are very special to me as they're some of my first interests, OneShot is just a whole another type of special, a special special if you will

And recently I've seen my friend play it blind for the first time, and as I was (Awesomely) backseating, I got to basically relive it, in a way, and I always get a little phase for it after reseeing content of it, so here I am, drawing one of my personal favorite portions of the game! Sorry for the unusual type of rant I did this time, but I just. Argh. This game, dammit

Also fun fact, so many things about this game, from the 2014 version, to songs, to imagery, to scenes, freak me so much out or make me feel so weird I feel like I need to puke

Gotta love it

[kanasbinwriting]

lawrence oleander with plus size reader please? :) sfw or nsfw is okay. or law with obsessive reader that’s already been kidnapped or maybe stalker reader :0! anyway, thank you. just silly ideas 🌨️

LAWRENCE X OBSESSIVE READER

Thank you so much for your request and sorry for the long wait!!! I will definitely write your other ideas too someday, so don't you worry ^^ I REALLY enjoyed writing this and I hope you're happy with the result!!!

- !It's mentioned once that Lawrence's taller than the reader!

TW: self-harm

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You don't know the odds of getting kidnapped; you’ve never bothered to look up the percentage. But one thing seems certain: you're pretty damn unlucky if it happened twice.

You never thought that you'd end up tied in a chair... again. You were quite a loner, so you thought that no one would even think about kidnapping you, but you got proved wrong. Twice.

Maybe you should've gone to therapy after the first time—or taken it more seriously and actually attended the sessions you skipped. Maybe, if you had, you would see how wrong it was that your heart beat in excitement as you watched the man with blonde hair tending his flowers. His back was turned to you, oblivious to your gawking. That is until he turned around and caught your gaze. His eyes widened when he noticed that you were awake and watching him rather intently. You felt your heart skip a beat when his eyes met yours, his blue eyes widening and his expression shifting nervously. You remember that day as if it were yesterday. From that day, you knew that Lawrence's special. You didn't even think about begging him to let you go. He was just so much more captivating than any other.

As sick as it sounds, you can't help but admire each cut he's given you, every single drop of your blood proof of your unending devotion. You wouldn't want to bleed for anyone else. You've lost track of how long you've been here. He seemed to like you in his own strange way since he hasn't killed you yet. You've managed to gain his trust and are no longer bound to that chair anymore, which you couldn't be more grateful for, as it was getting boring to be bound to that chair for hours. You got used to the coldness of his room. However, Lawrence allowed you to wear his hoodie if you were ever to feel cold, and you gladly used that privilege to its fullest.

Now, lying on his bed and holding his hoodie close, you take a deep breath, inhaling his scent.

It's been a few hours since he left to go work at the warehouse and you missed him dearly. Everything felt numb without him. There wasn't much you could do without him. He was thoughtful enough to buy you a few books, but you've already finished reading them, so they're of no help now. Oh, how you wish he were here with you. Maybe he'll let you style his hair again. Then again, he might be too drained from work, so he might just let you admire him as he does his own thing. Either way, you'd be grateful. You looked at the clock. Your eyes widened as you realized that he should have been at home by now. You stare at the clock for a few more seconds before shifting your attention outside. You felt your skin begin to itch as you looked at the night sky. Life can be so cruel sometimes. You missed how he would rant about plants and the awkward way he'd wrap his hands around you when you hugged him. A sense of unease builds as you begin scratching your arm, tears welling up in your eyes. How much longer must you suffer? You wrap your arms around yourself as your breathing gets heavier. You sulk, lost in your longing until you hear the front door unlocking. Your troubled expression instantly turned into one of joy. You didn't waste any time and sprung to your feet, practically running toward the front door.

Lawrence closed the door behind him and before he could greet you, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him. You nuzzled your face against his neck, taking a deep breath and inhaling his scent. You felt his body going stiff as you did. The smell of sweat overwhelmed you, but you didn't back away, indulging in the feeling of having him in your arms. "Hey..." he greeted you quietly, but didn't wrap his arms around you. Work must've been more tiring today. You hesitantly let him go when he puts a hand on your shoulder to softly push you away. He looked down at you with an expression you couldn't decipher. You already knew what was going to happen and you couldn't contain your excitement. "I want you to sit down on the chair." He demanded quietly and made his way past you to his kitchen. A smile appeared on your face as you made your way to the chair in the middle of his apartment and sat down obediently without saying a word. He rummaged through one of the drawers in the kitchen before looking back at you, his gaze meeting yours once more. His breath hitched and he quickly looked back down. He didn't know what your problem was. He's heard of Stockholm syndrome before, but he never would've thought that it would kick in as soon as it did. He felt your gaze linger on him. He used to feel uncomfortable whenever you stared at him this intensely, but after time's passed, he somehow grew quite fond of the attention you gave him. Maybe that's why he hasn't killed you yet. He grabbed a freshly sharpened knife and silently made his way toward you. Standing in front of you with the knife clutched in his hand, he gave you a smile you could only describe as kind of disturbing but fond in some way.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you shifted nervously under his watchful gaze. He held out the knife beckoning you to take it. "I want you to do it yourself this time." He had a sickenly sweet expression on his face as he said that oh-so-casually. You let out a shaky, uncertain breath, but took the knife from his hand nonetheless. You lined up the sharp end of the knife against your wrist and pressed it into your skin, letting out a quiet hiss at the feeling.

You looked up at him once more, only to see that his attention was solely on your wrist. A thin line of crimson appeared, widening as blood began to slowly seep out. Your breathing got heavier as you sunk the knife once more, taking in his every reaction. "Am I doing good?" Your voice was soft and meek as you sliced your skin deeper this time. He took his time before replying with just a simple hum, not bothering to look at your face and seeming to be in his own world as he watched the blood stain your skin. You let out a shaky breath as a smile spread across your face at his praise. You could've sworn that you almost felt dizzy just by the way he was looking at you. The way he quietly observed you made your head spin and your breath quicken. Or it was due to the woozy haze of blood loss. You felt your vision darken as you felt the knife slip from your grasp and hit the floor with a sharp clink, the sound echoing through the empty room. Everything felt so warm as if someone pulled you into a tight hug.

Suddenly, Lawrence's scent surrounded you; you felt at ease and closed your eyes.

You let yourself drift, breathing in the warmth, the scent, as everything gently faded to black.

[leclarifies]

i wish you would love me (CS55)

✰ carlos sainz x verstappen!reader ✰

summary → he would do anything to get you to love him, but he can only watch from the sidelines as you fall in love with his teammate.

genre → angst angst angst (im not sorry), self-indulgent, drabble

word count → 1.5k words

author's note → hello! this is my first iteration of breaking your heart with carlos sainz!!!!!! this is also my first time writing him so i'm sorry if things are a lil ooc, i haven't followed him as much as i do with CL16 & MV33.

carlos had always stole glances, whether he liked to admit it or not. some were lingering, but most of them were fast, quick, not wanting to linger long in case someone would catch him staring, he had grown fond of you.

you were the princess of the paddock, that was your title. some might even say that you're the queen of the paddock but you always denied the nickname, it was a silly nickname that your fans had given you and you didn't particularly feel like claiming it.

but carlos knew that you were indeed a princess, maybe the queen of his heart. he knew that with each second passing, he would slowly fall in love with you, maybe he already was. maybe he just didn't want to admit it to himself, much like the glances he stole.

you were the three time world champion's little sister and that meant that automatically by default, carlos was around you a lot. whether it was max's karting days and you attended his races, or him being on the formula one grid and you attending those races.

it didn't matter to carlos.

you were always nice to him, always smiling, always touchy but it didn't matter as you were touchy with everyone and that made carlos want to die on the inside.

why did you have to touch everyone so casually? why did you have to touch him and why did he feel like he was on top of the world when you did?

"carlos?" you soft voice had broken him out of his train of thought, he looks up to see you. your beautiful self standing in front of him, almost gracing him with your presence, "are you okay? you seem out of it."

"yeah, i'm alright. how are you doing, hermosa?" carlos' heart would not stop beating out of his chest, being in close proximity of you made his heart beat that way. you giggle and wave your hands in front of you, almost as if you were rejecting the small compliment that he gave you.

he found it cute, that you would always reject his compliments that way, whether intentional or not.

you scrunched your face up and rolled your eyes playfully, "you always flatter me with your nicknames, carlos," you giggled further and he stood up from where he was leaning against the wall, "i was going to ask you if you were coming to dinner tonight? you know, the ferrari one?"

carlos raised his eyebrow, how would you know about the ferrari dinner?

"yeah, of course. i am a ferrari driver afterall, aren't i?" carlos teased before you smile and laugh, carlos felt like his heart was going to fall out of his chest by how fast it was beating. you were near him and willing to talk to him, even though it was as simple as asking about a stupid dinner.

"yeah, i was wondering whether you'd come or not. charles invited me to the dinner just last night," your eye-smiles shone bright, even when you didn't mean them to. a pang strikes through carlos' chest, what do you mean by charles invited you?

"charles invited you? since when were you close to charles?" carlos asked, his eyebrow raised again as you were shifting feet to feet, carlos could tell that you were nervous by the question he asked, but you decided to come out clean anyway.

"me and charles have been... seeing eachother so i've been getting invited around ferrari events a lot."

maybe that was the day carlos' heart broke.

seeing you around his side of the paddock was nice, the way you smiled, the way you cheered the team on, it was exciting for carlos. he would be able to see you more often now, ever since you published your relationship with charles.

maybe he should've expected it. maybe he didn't notice it.

while he was stealing glances at you, you were stealing glances at his teammate and that stung like a little bitch.

you were always all smiles, always lovely, always polite, always touchy, and somehow he hated it. he hated the way you touched him— hated the way you touched charles.

your arms wrapped around charles' neck, holding him close as the two of you were captured kissing as charles took his win, he came second. always second best. never good enough. never good enough to win you over. never fast enough to see the signs.

he wanted you to come over to him, run up and kiss him the exact way you kissed charles, why did it have to be his teammate out of all people? why the one person that he constantly had to spend time with, whether willingly or unwillingly?

the love he had for his teammate was slowly becoming resent, becoming something he would never feel for his teammate naturally.

it sucked.

"carlos—"

"not now cha," carlos had brushed him off as he packed up his belongings from the garage, all he wanted to do was get home and sit with himself and his feelings.

"but it's important—"

"i said not now," carlos' tone was delivered with finality, which made charles stop in his tracks, not speaking another word. he was scared to, scared that he would piss off carlos more than he was right now.

what hurt the most for carlos was that he had talked about you to him multiple times, his eyes always animated when he talked about you and charles knew, he knew how much you meant to carlos but charles didn't catch on or maybe he didn't care.

"did i do something wrong?" charles asked, he was behind carlos and his shoulder tensed up when charles asked him the stupid question, carlos felt like he wanted to punch something at the moment and right now, preferably the handsome leclerc that stood behind him.

of course he did something wrong, he stole the love of carlos' life and carlos hated him for it. why did he have to do it? why did he have to take away something that made him happy? wasn't him getting kicked out of ferrari enough for charles?

why did everything have to go his way?

"it's nothing, i'm just upset about my performance today, that's all," carlos turned around to look at charles, he was starting to realize that it wasn't charles' fault. charles did nothing wrong.

the universe just hated him.

carlos had to sit in those painful dinners with ferrari, if it wasn't mandatory for him to come, he would've never showed up in the first place. he hated having to sit there and play nice, to sit there and watch you whisper into charles' ear and when he would whisper something back in your ear and then you would giggle, to sit there and to watch the love of his life slip away from his fingers.

he knew that you never held the same type of feelings that he harbored towards you, you would always be nice and polite but that was it, and maybe he took it the wrong way. it didn't matter to him now, all that mattered was you stole his heart and there was no way you were going to give it back.

with the months watching painfully from the sidelines, watching you fall in love with his teammate, you had an announcement to make tonight.

"hello everyone! thank you for coming to tonight's dinner," you had started, you looked beautiful tonight. afterall, you would always be his hermosa in his heart, "i just wanted to announce me and charles' engagement!"

charles stood up alongside with you and smiled, wrapping an arm that carlos wished were his, holding you close with a kiss on your temple.

claps erupted around the table and carlos was the only one not clapping along with the crowd.

if it wasn't possible before, carlos' heart broke for the second time tonight.

if it wasn't bad enough that charles picked carlos to be his bestman, it was the worst when he had to stand there and watch you be led along the aisle, arm hooked with jos verstappen and walking towards charles.

and yet again, he was watching from the sidelines. never the main character in your story, but always a secondary or maybe a step-in.

your smile was so bright, you looked so happy.

he wished you looked at him the same way you looked at charles.

as you finished your vows, tears escaped from carlos' eyes, not because he was happy for his teammate, not because he was happy for you but because he was upset that it wasn't him that you were marrying today. he couldn't bare to stay and watch any further after the vows, choosing to step out of the cathedral that you were getting married to charles at.

carlos was not the same man that he was before he stepped into that cathedral that day, and maybe it was for the worst.

[thegirlwiththewriting]

Personal vent

Tw I guess

I just need to get this off my chest because it's suffocating me, and everything’s just too much. Also if no one sees this it's okay too cause I just need to write this down I guess, no matter if smone sees it or not.

A year ago my best friend and me fell apart, and she was literally my everything. She never even once lost patience with me and appreciated everything | did. Ofc sometimes she made mistakes, but these were all little nonsenses, I could have ignored. That time I had no idea from life and was just so ungrateful for everything and straight up a shitty horrible person. I said and did so many things that must have hurt her more than I can think off. And then at the end I blamed all the shit on her and why nothing was working in my life. All the time after, I was convinced it was her who ruined everything and why we fell apart, and didn't miss her a bit.

But after that I went through so much shit that made me realize so much things and made me a whole different person.( well I wouldn’t wish it anyone, but for me everything was deserved tbh) Half a year later I was startina to rearet everthing and tried to reach out again. Surprise, ofc I fucked up again, this time not with my cruel behavior, but just idk, I was scared I guess.

Now I suddenly found one of our old chats again. I deleted everything but seems like I forgot this one. And it hurts so fcking bad. I was so ungrateful for everything, and said the most horrible things ever.

The whole last year made me change so so so much, and I can't believe what a shitty person I was back then. I just wish our friendship back, the way we would text until late at night, or how we would go on walks with her dog and then stay at her place and cuddle up while watching Ghibli movies. although I know everything was my fault.

Not in a hundred lifetimes I could make up for everything I did and said, and that's what haunts me so bad. The most I can do for her is to never contact her again, and just idk. But I hate this old self, and I just can't live with the fact that I hurt her so so fucking bad, and probably lots of other people that time too, just because I couldn't appreciate anything, and wasn’t satisfied with myself.

I was clean for months but yesterday I sh myself again, and all the feeling and thoughts I thought left behind me r coming back . It's just, if I wouldn't be here it would be so much better for her and all the people I hurt.

And I don't deserve everything and the remaining people I have rn anyways. I feel like the only way I could make up for all the stuff I did and said is to make sure I'll never do it again, by just disappearing from this world.

I know I would never ever do what l've done back then now, since I know so much more, and I won't hurt anyone in any way ever.

But just the thought of what l've done, and idk but for some reason I could do it again, it makes me despise myself. I don't deserve the people I have rn, and the new friends I made. I don't deserve anything rn. I wish I could think otherwise, but my mind is telling me that the only way to make up and protect the people around me, is to go. Because who says the ungrateful cruel person isn't still somewhere? What if someday I do smth shitty again and hurt too many people?

I‘m falling apart, and idk how to handle anything. And besides all that I’m feeling not rlly good right now generally, and with this weight added now I’m falling apart. I feel like crying 24/7, idk and my mind is just being too loud.

And the most egoistic thing is, all I want is someone to hold me and tell me everything's okay. Also when I know it's not. Also when it's me who hurt eveyone.

[httpskuzuu]

Fault

i wrote this while watching apocalipsisminecraft :D

Anyway, I'm not very good at writing dialogues, so I hope it's okay

Yandere!Dazai x Reader

English is not my mother tongue, sorry for the mistakes

summary: you deal with the silent treatment after an argument.

tw: angst¿, toxic relationship, manipulation

The silence is simply punishing, it always was. Your body was intact, balled up on your bed, but your mind wasn't as lucky. The silent treatment was a problem, one that hurt more than you'd like to admit, but your still-wet cheeks gave you away.

It hurt you that Dazai ignored you. You had tried to distract yourself in a thousand ways these days: you went out with your friends (the few you had left), spent the days away from home, concentrated on your hobbies. Nothing seemed to work, it's as if Dazai had planted a seed in your psyche that keeps growing and growing, every day his silence was getting worse.

You can't win an argument because this is what happens, talking or complaining about Osamu's toxic behavior would only ensure you that wordless jail. You had every right to complain! Because of him you lost many friends, he distanced you from them in a way that made you only realize it when it was too late, after you had already cut the total bond with them and they didn't want to see you again.

You don't blame them either, if a friend had a toxic boyfriend and ignored you for him all day, not letting help them, you would be angry too. They have been very patient because they know the details of your life with Dazai well, but everyone has limits.

Now you are alone, even Dazai doesn't seem to love you.

You try to hold back your tears at that thought, but it is impossible, you can only cover your mouth with your hand to hide your sobs. That's one of the things you had tried to avoid, if Dazai really loved you he wouldn't do this to you.

He knows of your suffering and yet he continues to treat you as if you were a ghost, you can't help but doubt his feelings for you. You think that maybe you are just a sadistic desire of his, that he only wants to pretend to love you and then leave you abandoned like a toy. Yes, you are just that, his toy.

There's not much to complain about either, you're aware of your situation and yet here you are, by his side. It's not that you wouldn't have tried to leave him, you did once, but he came back to beg your forgiveness and you simply couldn't refuse. You become weak with just one look from him.

And that cycle was always repeating itself. Whenever there was a fight big enough to overshadow your love for Osamu, he was the one who apologized. You wished it was like that this time too, but it's not.

Know what, fuck it, who needs friends anyway? You need Dazai, it hurts not being together with him. It eats you up inside with anger and shame for letting yourself fall for his manipulation, but what else are you going to do? You're not going to keep crying in bed until you fall asleep.

You head towards the living room where you know for sure that Dazai is, watching TV. He doesn't even turn to look at you even though you are sure he heard your footsteps.

“Osamu.” Saying his name is a mixture of pain and love that infiltrates your brain. Sometimes you wish you had never met him, but you think better of it when you remember that he is the only one who loves you. Who else could love you with your attitude?

He still does not respond and a look of sadness invades you, you try to remove it, but it comes back each time. Finally you give up, Dazai already knows how weak and useless you are and knows well your character, so you allow yourself to cry.

You don't hesitate to lie on his body and hug him while you try to form a sentence, any sentence, but only incoherent sobs come out.

You don't see Osamu's reaction, you just wish he was as affected as you are. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the crown of your head lovingly. You missed him so much, you don't even know how you managed to survive these days without his love and touch. “What is it, Belladonna?”

You press your face against his chest as shame clutches tightly at your throat. He mocks you even your current state and that is like a stab in the heart, you feel the pain in every detail.

“You hate me, you hate me.” Stifled meaningless sobs come out of your mouth, but still Osamu manages to hear them.

“And why would you say such a stupid thing?”

“You were ignoring me! If you really loved me you wouldn't do that.”

“So now I'm the bad guy.” His tone of voice changes to a more distant one and his hug loses strength. In response you can only hug him tighter, afraid that, if you loosen his arms a little, he will leave you alone again. “You didn't try to talk to me either.”

You raise your gaze, an indignant one, which is accompanied by furrowed eyebrows. You want to look annoyed, but you just look pathetic.

“That's because you always do the same thing! We fight and you stop talking to me!” Pain trickles through your words, but Dazai doesn't seem to care enough to comfort you. “What am I going to humiliate myself for when I know you're going to ignore me?”

"Oh, poor little Belladonna, always the victim of the story." His condescending voice makes you feel like an idiot, you come to think that you really are. "Didn't you ever think I just needed space? Come on, you're so clingy and I was just trying to protect you from getting hurt.”

Seeing your puzzled expression, he can only laugh.

“Well of course you haven't thought about it. That cute little head of yours is good for nothing but victimization.”

“I- I'm sorry, I didn't know you felt this way...” Your voice trembles and his words linger in your mind. Maybe it's all your fault after all, you've never tried to put yourself in the opposite shoes and that makes you feel like the biggest useless.

The award for the worst partner in the world should be given to you, you think.

Dazai has no reaction at first, looking at you with those cold eyes, but they soften after a few seconds. He can't resist you after all.

Osamu's warm arms squeeze you again, you almost cry with joy thanks to how nice it feels to be held like that.

"It's okay, my sweet." Osamu ends up whispering near your ear, which sends a pleasurable shiver throughout your body. “Let me show you how much I love you now.”

and if I make a second part nsfw? 👀

[haveateadude]

hi again ems!! (hope its okay if i call you that 😭) im the one who sent the last req, you wrote it so wonderfully. thanks for your concerns, wishing you the best !!

no pressure once again!! could you possibly write fluff about els taking you on a lil picnic to a flower field ? thank you once again!! 💗💗

picnic date

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ picnic day with your lover

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ none, this is pure fluff i think

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ hey!! omg your welcome to the person who sent this!!! i love uuu. i hope you like this one :)) also it's totally okay to call me em!! please feel free to send more request if you'd like!!!

and i'm so fucking sorry this took too long and it's too short. i've been busy lately but i have a week of online classes bc of some weird shit going on in my country so i hope i'll be able to write more.

have a good day everyone❤️

Ellie takes you on a date. A picnic date, precisely. She knows you've been stressed lately, and she thought taking you out might help take your mind off things—at least for a while. You knew it would be lovely, but not like this. This is beautiful. Going to a flower field has always been on your bucket list, let alone having a picnic with the person you love most.

"Ellie!" you exclaim. "Why did you—I mean… Shit. This is beautiful."

Ellie leaves the basket of food on the blanket, then stands behind you, wrapping her arms around you and placing a kiss on your neck.

"You deserve this," she says, resting her chin on your shoulder as you look out at the flower field. It feels like a dream—dating her has always felt this way. "I hope you enjoy it. It took me a while to find a place like this."

You turn around, and her hands never leave your body; they settle on your hips now. "I love this."

The sun peeks through the clouds and shines directly into her eyes and along the curve of her nose. You’ve always thought she’s pretty—but in moments like this, when it’s just the two of you with nothing to do but enjoy each other’s presence, she looks ethereal. You kiss her, both of your hands on her cheeks.

"Thank you for bringing me here," you say as you both sit down. "Really, you didn't have to."

"I wanted to." She shrugs, smiling. "I thought we should do something nice; it's been a while since we've had time for ourselves."

You lean in for another kiss, which Ellie returns happily.

"God," you say, letting your head rest on her shoulder, "What did I do to deserve you?"

"You're asking me that?" she says, incredulous. "You're the prettiest, smartest, sweetest, and coolest girl I've ever met… How could I not love you? That's the real question."

You feel your cheeks flush, a warm pink spreading across your face as you look up at her. You’ve always thought Ellie was prettier than you—hell, you’ve always thought she was better at everything. She’s smart, beautiful, and always knows what to say. But the way she talks about you always makes you feel like she’s put you on a pedestal, for better or worse.

You chuckle, eyes bright with devotion. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too." Ellie’s the one to kiss you now, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I really can't believe I'm dating you."

After you finish eating, you eventually end up with your head resting on her lap. The sun has faded a bit, leaving blue and orange streaks scattered across the sky. It looks beautiful, you think, as Ellie tucks daisies into your hair, braiding a strand every now and then. It feels nice, her fingers brushing against your scalp.

"You look so sleepy, baby," Ellie chuckles, finishing with a kiss on your forehead. "Are you sure you don't want to head back?"

You shake your head and sit up. "Can we stay a while longer?"

Ellie doesn’t answer; she leans in for a kiss and gently guides you both to lie down until your back hits the ground, with her next to you, propped up on one elbow. One of her hands rests on your cheek, her thumb gently caressing your skin as you keep on kissing.

When you pull away, Ellie rests her head on your chest. You wrap your arms around her.

"I think we can stay here a little while longer."

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 54/54

Prev | Mending a Family Master Post

A family is forgiven, goodbyes are given, and promises are made

Well, here it is, the final chapter

Dick was not jealous. He wasn’t! Just because Danny greeted Lian as his cousin, Roy as Uncle Roy, and Raven as Auntie Raven doesn’t mean Dick was jealous.

Is that the truth? Are those your genuine emotions? Dinah’s voice echoed in Dick’s head.

Okay, maybe he was jealous. But it wasn’t fair! He had his first nephew, and Danny was avoiding him, and when he wasn’t avoiding him, he was glaring at him with glowing green eyes.

Why isn’t it fair? Didn’t you do the same with Mar’i?

Ugh, being self-aware was annoying.

Jason laughed loudly with his whole body at something Roy had said. Even Danny smiled at whatever Roy had said. Dick gritted his teeth. Jason had never laughed with him like that. Well, it’s not as if Dick had given him many opportunities to laugh with Dick when he was younger. Dick regrets not getting closer to Jason when he was younger. Things might have been different if he hadn’t been so angry and jealous. By the time their relationship had started to get better, Jason had died. When he returned, well, there was no relationship to be had.

Dick’s phone beeped again with a notification. He had been receiving messages from his siblings who wanted to know how Jason and their newfound niblings were or from Mar’i wanting to know when she would see her new cousins and uncle.

Dick ignored them. He didn’t know what else to tell them. He had already updated them that Danny and Jason were fine.

Bruce walked up to Dick.

“He seems happy,” Bruce said in a neutral tone. Dick had been around the man long enough to know it was probably eating him inside. Like a typical rich kid, Bruce wasn’t used to sharing.

“Yeah, he does. I’m…happy for him.”

Even to Dick, his tone sounded insincere.

“Do you think he would want us in his life again? I’m glad to see him alive and well, but I want my son to at least speak to me. To us.”

“I don’t know, Bruce, I don’t know.”

“I will grant his wish if he doesn’t want to talk to us again, but it’ll hurt,” Bruce said. Dick stayed silent. He honestly didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, Jason was entitled to his boundaries. On the other, Dick wanted to beg his younger brother to let them back in.

Let him come to you first, Dinah’s voice sounded in his head.

“Did Talia leave already?”

“Yeah, she gave her final goodbyes to Danny, Jazz, and Jason and left.”

“Huh,” Dick was glad. He understood he was both Damian’s and, ugh, Jason’s mother, but he couldn’t stand the woman.

Danny suddenly turned to them and glared with his eerie green eyes. Every time he saw those Lazarus green eyes, Dick felt uneasy. Dick felt the sudden paranoia that Danny could read his thoughts. After all, he didn’t know what powers Danny had.

Danny snarled silently, showing tiny fangs.

“Children hold a lot of sway with their parents,” Dick said, “If Danny wants nothing to do with us, Jason is most likely to follow his son’s wishes.”

Bruce said nothing. Eventually, he left Dick and walked up to Roy and Jason.

Dick watched as Danny’s scowl deepened. The little boy left the group when Bruce started talking with Jason. Roy crossed his arms and glared at Bruce, not hiding it from Bruce.

Danny walked toward Lian and started talking to her. The little girl laughed at whatever Danny said. Dick smiled weakly. It was their fault that Jason had left. After all, they abandoned him first. They had no right to feel saddened.

It didn’t mean he didn’t feel it.

____

Danny didn’t like Bruce or Dick. They had been the cause of his dad’s suffering, Them and the whole so-called Batfamily.

Yes, even Alfred and Barbara, though dad always talked about them fondly.

After all, Alfred could have easily visited dad when he was feeling down, Bruce’s rules be damned. And Barbara’s crumbs of talking to dad occasionally probably caused him to feel more acutely alone. Barbara could’ve easily fought harder for his dad instead of just talking to him occasionally.

Danny sighed. He stared at his daddy, talking to both Dick and Bruce.

His dad always had an air of melancholy surrounding him, no matter how much Danny and Jazz tried to help. There were times when he would be happy, and then out of nowhere, bam, depression would hit.

Danny didn’t feel even a hint of it now. His dad still missed his old family, even though they had hurt him.

Danny wished he could say he didn’t understand, but he did. Because even though his parents had hurt him, a part of him still wanted their love and acceptance, even though it was too late now.

So, why not allow his dad to reconnect with his old family? They seemed to be trying, and dad looked more at peace. Even though Danny hated it, he would give that stupid family a chance.

He glared at Bruce and Dick, but if they hurt his dad in any way, well, he was half-ghost. He smiled chillingly. His smile widened when he saw Bruce tense, and Dick rub the back of his neck uneasily.

They would get their chance, but it would only be one.

____

Jason gave Bruce his phone number. Logically, he knew Bruce had it from his call for help, but this made it more official.

“Call or text me, but for the love of God, don’t be like Tim texting me at two in the morning telling me he figured out who stole the left socks. As interesting as the dog/human hybrid was, I just wanted to sleep.”

Dick flinched.

“Yeah, sorry about that. He was obsessed. He didn’t sleep for a week straight until he caught him. And that’s why you don’t play with genetics, boys and girls.”

“Alfred and I tried,” Bruce tried to defend himself, “God, did we try.”

Jason snorted, “Timmy needs to learn to let it go and sleep, and you need to learn to put your foot down. Besides, it’s Gotham. It’s not the strangest thing I’ve seen.”

After all, they had a bat-themed villain and a bat-themed hero.

Dick looked as if he was about to say something. He looked uncomfortable.

“I know about Mar’i. Roy told me.”

“I’m sorry, Little Wing.”

Jason shrugged, trying not to show his hurt, “I understand. I wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind when I returned.”

“Still,” Dick said and left it at that.

“I missed you, Jason.”

“We all have,” Bruce added, “Do you think you’ll ever find it in you to forgive us? Maybe to visit?”

Jason tackled Bruce in a hug. Both Bruce and Dick were surprised when they heard a chirp leave Jason’s lips.

“Little wing, did you just chirp like a bird,” Dick asked. His grin said everything: he had found blackmail material. He was still an older brother, after all.

“Ghost children chirp at their parents and family,” Danny came up to them, “it’s a privilege to have a ghost chirping at family.”

Danny glared at Dick, daring him to make fun of his father. Jason felt grateful to Danny. He didn’t think he’d be able to take any of Dick’s ribbing at the moment. He still felt too raw.

“Sorry, guys, it won’t happen again.”

“No, Jason, it’s cute! I promise I won’t say anything, but don’t deny something that’s a part of you,” Dick said.

Bruce was silent, but his eyes were loud with questions. Jason appreciated that Bruce had kept all the questions to himself so far. He didn’t know where he would even begin to explain his powers and half-life.

“Thanks for helping me and Danny. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

Bruce put his hand on Jason’s shoulder.

“Always, Jay lad, always.”

Jason hugged his dad again.

Things weren’t perfect, but they were better.

____

Bruce didn’t want to leave. Neither did Dick, but they had responsibilities. Gotham had been without Batman for three days, and Blüdhaven without Nightwing. Besides, they both had children they also had to care for.

As much as Bruce wanted to be with Jason and his family for a while longer, it wasn’t in the cards.

Raven was waiting to the side, giving the family a bit of privacy before she teleported them back.

“You’ll come and visit? Alfred really misses you, and everyone else wants to get to know you and your little family.”

“Yeah, Bruce, we’ll visit. I don’t know when, but we will.”

Bruce rubbed Jason’s hair, “Are you going to let it grow back to your regular hair color? You’re not hiding from us anymore.”

“I don’t know. I’ve kind of grown fond of it. Besides, it matches Jazz’s hair color.”

Bruce nodded. He gave Jason one last hug.

“I miss you, son. I’m sorry for everything.”

“Me too,” Jason said, “me too.”

With a heavy heart, Bruce smiled at Jason and turned toward Raven. It was time to go home, but he would do better for his son and all his children this time.

Jason watched as a white light overtook Dick, Bruce, and Raven.

They were gone.

“Good riddance,” Danny said.

“Danny lad,” Jason said in a warning voice.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You forgave them, and we all are going to play happy family now. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t getting too crowded. I want to spend time with my family after…after what happened.”

Jason hugged his son.

“Don’t worry, son, we’re here now, and nothing will happen to us anymore.”

Jazz walked up with Ellie and stood by Danny and Jason. They smiled at each other, comfortable in the knowledge that, no matter what, they would always have each other.

I want to thank everyone who has been with me until the end. Thank you to those who have been here from the beginning to those who came halfway through or toward the end. I couldn't have done it without your support and encouragement.

Endings are hard, but hopefully, this one leaves you satisfied. I do plan to write one last one-shot of the family visiting Gotham and Wayne Manor, but that's a future project, and then I'll be done with this series.

Once again, thank you!

For those of you who have a Tumblr, can you vote here . 

[bubblespalace]

How would diaboys react to a sacrificial bride who's like a rich, stupid stereotypical blonde popular girl who always wears something pink n open like karen smith from mean girls? Also i love ur page so so much! <3

Bubble: I'm not giggling- you are. You guys... SHUU IS THE RICH BLOND POPULAR BOY- Just he's not dumb he's lazy, LOLL. (I just had to comment that-) Under the cut for S+M boys!! Good to be back guys <33

"You're really starting to annoy me... Just maybe be quiet, completely. I feel even myself losing my brain cells when you say the simplest thing."

"You greatly pester me with insistent questions. I ask that you please stop. I do not wish to explain everything to you, it is very frustrating."

"Okay, you know what?! You have killer tits, but I can't sand the shit that comes out of that mouth! And for the last time, you're holding a remote and not a phone!"

"I was talking with Teddy. He agreed with me, I should simply turn you into a doll already. You have no brain either, so I will not be faced with the task of removing as much."

"Fufu~ Bitch-chan is so dumb... What if I were to ask you to do touch your elbows together, hm~?"

"Jeez, you're annoying. How the fuck are you even still alive? I really don't get it! You say the most idiotic shit and yet you always land on your feet! You're like fuckin' Ayato..."

"...Livestock, we're going to go over the basics again... I believe you are in desperate need of a better education. Unless there is nothing that can be done but a lobotomy."

"It was cute at first but now...? She keeps yapping about how she can put her whole fist in her mouth. But then she tries, and she can't get it out..."

"Yeah, it's kinda annoying. Maybe if I hit her over the head with a shovel it'll righten some stuff out. But at the same time, it might cause even more damage..."

"Is Eve... doing this on purpose...? ...To make me laugh...? It is... funny... fufu..."

[lususnatura]

blamore's mouth formed into an 'o' shape and let out a soft noise of realization upon hearing the other confirm it was henry the VIII in the show, ❝ ahh, okay. see... that makes more sense now. yeah, that and he might have been a modern-day sociopath. ❞

what sounded like small feet padding on the ground suddenly started to head blamore's way just as he'd began to reflect upon faith; though its experience with it was surprisingly limited, even though its father had carried on traditions like christmas in their family. they had stopped going to church altogether when blamore turned seven, partially due to thérèse (its mother), and - marmalade was now rubbing against blamore's ankles like the sweetheart she was.

while he'd been about to frown only a few moments earlier due to thinking about his father, the creature was now smiling down at the orange tabby cat. the purring coming from marmalade was quite loud as she weaved between his ankles to cross over to harley. marmalade then bunted her head against one of her own ankles, a soft 'aww' slipping through blamore's lips, ❝ oh... look at that. you know, cats do that headbutting thing when they're trying to bond with someone. ❞ a warm look encompassed its eyes as they darted to meet harley's.

it was a good sign whenever marmalade liked someone, especially when she got as close to them as she was to harley right now. his gaze briefly followed the other when she moved away before he bent down to pet the tabby. blamore opened a cabinet near him as soon as he remembered marmalade needed more food, filling her bowl with wet cat food before long. it was washing its hands when harley began talking to it again.

❝ alright, i just wanted to let you know i am listening - but oh. okay, yeah, i could understand why that would be discouraging. especially for a kid. i mean, of course not every family is the same, but its hard not to compare things you have to others sometimes. that doesn't mean that you were wrong for feeling those emotions, however, as all of your feelings are valid. life is honestly weird in the way that you never know what kind of situation you're going to be in and it also sucks because of that. but hey, look at where you are now. ❞

blamore dried off his hands before turning up the gas to the stove to begin cooking. it backtracked a bit before gnawing on its bottom lip, ❝ ahh, i mean, i was laughing because i wish that that is something i had to escape from. one of the friends i'd made in undergrad invited me to go out golfing once and oh my god... i hated it. but at first, i thought 'well, maybe its because you're not good at it yet.' so i went with him a few more times but no. it turns out i just hate golf. ❞

Harley heard Balmore explain his confusion, and smirked. "Ughhh this was Henry tha' eighth. Tha' man killed his wives... perhaps this is what happens before they commercialized ice-cream?"

Humming to the notation of religion, Harley could only agree. She wasn't the type to enjoy masses or actually prescribe church to those seeking social connections, but part of her did like the kindness that could be found. Despite not being the kind of person to rarely step into the church, she did donate from time to time as if to say thank you for all the pancake breakfasts or bake sales that they had allowed her and her brother to attend.

Her mind refocused on the task at hand, finding it rewarding that she could afford to take herself out to eat, or was lucky enough to have Balmore. She breathed him in notating the floral scent which was an afternote to the fresh scent. Softly she ran her fingers over his robe making sure he was comfortable before moving on. As she chopped she had a habit of going back to what her childhood was like, it was only after Balmore had distance himself some that she turned to see him playing about with his ear. She knew his hearing suffered at times, and questioned if she was on his bad side.

"Nahh it's okay.. Jus' ... yeah I was like tha' only kid in my area that didn't have a christmas tree, decorations, or well actual gifts. Like you get small things one afta' tha' other durin' Hannukah... BUT.. When someone rocks up afta' Christmas with new toys 'en you got stuff from tha' seven-eleven... ya' know it's been a dim holiday. But yeah I always wanted ta' light all the candles and play Christmas music... not read a passage and light just one at a time. It was hard."

When he laughed at her for the yoga retreats she let him. "COme now ya' had to have somethin' you hated and had to get out of?"