#I’m sorry bubblegum toothpaste

[furbab]

I’m a slut for peppermint and I’m tired of hearing slander from the bubblegum bitches

[avonne-writes]

I was reading Broken Things and Silence again and I have some angsty questions, feel free to save answering them for a time when you’re in the mood for angst 🤭

So I was wondering if Gale in the future ever gets suicidal thoughts again, does he think about it? About the river? Does swimming ever trigger such thoughts for him? Or does the distance he put between him and his abusive parents, in addition to John’s love, heal those wounds completely? You mentioned in your reply to my comment that his parent’s treatment will never stop affecting him.

another question, Gale picks up a piece of a broken beer bottle by the bridge and puts it in his pocket, does it have any significance afterwards? Does he just throw it away later?

btw I’m obsessed with Bucky’s bubblegum toothpaste it’s so Bucky! 😍 does he ever tell Gale why he chose it? I know it’s probably because it tastes like Gale’s kisses. Sorry for the lengthy ask! 😅😘

Thank you for the great questions, I love answering these!

Yes, unfortunately, Broken Things is not the last time Gale has suicidal thoughts. In his mind, it works like a door that can’t be fully closed once it has been opened. Once he considers suicide a possible option (even acts on it as we saw), it always stays a possible option. It calms him in distressing situations, which is not a good way of coping but he doesn’t grow out of it.

Swimming doesn’t trigger those thoughts in him, it soothes him. It helps him resolve his distress in a healthy way, so it's actually good for him.

Bridges, however, do trigger him. I think he might have a problem crossing bridges on foot after Broken Things. Needs someone there with him to do it.

Broken glass also triggers him. He gets upset and restless if someone breaks something made of glass in his vicinity or if someone steps on glass shards. He flinches.

Gale heals a lot and gets better over the years, but there are lifelong effects of what he went through. Some are harmless and don’t affect him negatively - e.g. he likes sensory deprivation during sex and loves physical affection - but he has a massive issue with the idea of having his own kids, and this almost leads to them considering divorce.

Also, people are sometimes surprised how lovey-dovey he and Bucky can be even later in life, but Gale always needs it because he has a gap in his heart to fill.

Then, of course, there's the entire problem of dealing with his parents and how he relates to them over the years. He needs to talk to Bucky after every interaction to talk it out.

Regarding the broken glass he picks up, no, he doesn’t throw it away, he keeps it for years. He brings it to his and Bucky's shared apartment and hides it in his drawer. He holds it in his hand if he's really distressed and alone. I think he might keep it until Bucky proposes. The ring replaces its function in a more positive way.

Hahaha Bucky's toothpaste 😄 I think Gale knows that Bucky chose it because he chews bubblegum a lot, but they don’t talk about it.

Don’t apologize, I love asks like this so much! They let me share more about the characters ❤️ Thank you, dear!

[rubydubydoo122]

Jason gets de-aged because I've seen fics of Tim or Dick being de-aged, and Bruce losing his memory, but no one has realized the potential for angst if you de-age Jason.

Jason was surrounded by green. Green that felt thick like jello, yet lucid like air. Green that bit at his skin like frostbite, yet burned like explosions on his back. 

Explosions. Bomb. Joker. Mom. Dad. 

Jason bolted up, gasping for air. That was the Lazarus Pit, wasn’t it? But what about the explosions? Why the Joker?

As if thinking the name summoned the demon, Jason could hear the laughs echo around the room. He threw the blankets off and checked the time. 

6:13 am. 

Weird time for a house filled with vigilantes. Even if he went to the library to get a book, Bruce would probably be asleep. Or by the time he woke up, he would have to get ready for work. 

“If you need me for anything, it doesn't matter if I’m busy, come get me. I want to help you. You don’t need to figure things out on your own anymore.”

But his Bruce said that. Not this raisined version of him. Not that he was thinking of asking this fake version of Bruce for help. He was a big boob. 

Though, if he got ready on the slower side, he could probably find Alfred. 

Jason soon realized that he probably hasn’t been in this room in a long time, because all of the clothes in his closet were the same. 

Wait. Something was missing though. 

His runaway bag was gone. Why did he run away? The journal said coming about going to Ethiopia to find Sheila Haywood, but Jason would’ve assumed he’d go with Bruce. Not on his own. 

Jason will figure it out once he sees the case report. There’s no need to draw conclusions when the facts are within reach. 

He decided against changing just yet, because his clothes were really dusty, and he’d rather not be sneezing all day. 

So he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Jason and Dick shared a bathroom. It’s like, one of those bathrooms that connect to two different rooms. And if Jason remembers correctly, Damian probably shares the bathroom with them too. There were two toothbrushes in the cup in the center of the vanity, but considering that Jason probably hasn’t used his room in years, he took a new toothbrush from the cabinet under the sink. 

Hey! Dick no longer uses bubblegum toothpaste. Is it possible to be proud of someone for that?

“I got eight hours of sleep, why am I hallucinating Jason?”

And Jason did what any reasonable human would do, and punched the person, because he did not sound like Dick, or Bruce, or Alfred, or any of the people he met last night. 

“Ow! Ok! Fine! Not a hallucination.” the dude who looked to have permanent eyebags like a racoon rubbed his arm.

Jason suddenly realized he had a fifth sibling he hadn’t met yet, and punching them was probably the worst first impression “I’m sorry! Sorry. I didn’t mean to- I wasn’t thinking-“ 

And Jason and him just stood in the bathroom staring at each other. This racoon dude also looked really familiar. 

“Who revoked puberty from you?”

“A lady with a magic stick.” 

The dude just nodded. And then a smirk formed on his face, “How spooked is everyone?”

“Bruce won’t even look at me.” 

Maybe Jason should get the dude's name, but also, if this dude thinks that Jason already knows everything, then maybe he can get some information. 

“You’re gonna use this to guilt trip him, aren’t you?”

Jason thought about it, he didn’t really want to guilt trip Bruce, but, information . “Obviously. I’m just trying to figure out the best way to go about it. Have any suggestions?”

The dude grabbed his toothbrush from the cup, “You could get your Robin suit out of the mem-“

The door opened behind Jason, “It is too early to be listening to your irritating voice. I thought you would be at your apartment.”

Nonono, Damian would maybe ruin Jason’s plan to gather information, “Hush, child, the adults are speaking.” Jason turned back to the mystery sibling, “you were saying.”

“Don’t tell him anything about the past five years. Todd does not remember. He Probably doesn’t even remember your name.”

“Damian’s lying. Of course I remember.”

Damian crossed his arms“Then what’s his name?” 

Jason squinted at the man hoping the faint trickle of familiarity would turn into recognition. And then it hit him like a car iron. “Tim Drake. Camera kid.”

Tim stopped brushing his teeth for a moment and tilted his head to the side, “I never told you about that.” Tim spat into the sink, “if you had to go out on patrol with the rest of us, would you be Robin again?”

“Drake what—“

“The adults are speaking.”

Jason spit into the sink, “I wouldn’t wear the emo Robin getup Damian has going on right now, but if my old uniform is somewhere in storage, I’d put it back on.”

Tim seemed to smirk at the Emo Robin comment, though he flicked Jason’s forehead,  “If you had your adult brain in there, that would not have been your answer.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to be Robin anymore? Robin is magic.” 

A look of pity crossed Tim’s face, though it didn’t feel patronizing. It honestly felt like it was masking another emotion from showing on his face. “You just, kinda out grew Robin.” Then he winced, “Trust me, a ripped 6 foot tall Robin is not a pretty sight.”

Jason suddenly had a mental image of a man in a Walmart Robin suit that was ripping at the seams burned in his head, “Why would you give me that mental image? I need to bleach my brain. ”

Tim just shrugged, “payback.” He turned around to leave and visibly shuddered, “In a shake, garter snake.” he waved his fingers over his shoulder.

“See you soon, fat racoon.” Jason grinned, because he very much feels like as an older brother, he would teach his younger brothers corny goodbyes. Though maybe he didn’t. Who knows

Tim had been out of the bathroom, but peeked his head back in and grabbed a comb from the counter, “Gotta run, skeleton .”

“ Drake ! You can’t say that!”

Tim walked away again, “What I say is fine, spiky porcupine!”

There was definitely a growl that came from Damian, but Jason couldn’t say he wasn’t laughing.

Alfred was cutting up some fruit by the time he made his way down to the kitchen. 

“Ah, young Master Jason. I didn’t expect you to be up this early, considering how much adventure you had last night.” Though Jason didn’t see the way Alfred’s knife faltered momentarily. 

Jason shrugged, “And more adventure awaits. I gotta figure out what happened in the past five years. Need any help?”

A wave of nostalgia hit Alfred. Not many other people in the house could be trusted to cook without burning the house down, and even though maybe Cassandra or Damian could be, cooking with Jason felt special in a way that would hurt if he tried to teach another one of his grandchildren. “Would you mind preparing the pancake batter?”

And Jason gave Alfred that smile that was brighter than the sun, before they fell into their rhythm, working side by side. 

As usual, Duke and Damian were the first downstairs in their Gotham Academy uniforms. Alfred placed a bowl of fruit in front of Duke and a cup of chai in front of Damian. “How come Todd is allowed in the kitchen?”

Jason frowned, “Wait, am I not usually allowed in the kitchen anymore? Or is it because I’m not in the manor often anymore?”

“What makes you think that, Master Jason?”

“My room looks pretty much the same. There’s nothing to show that I’ve grown up in it.” he stopped mixing the batter, “Did Sheila Haywood get custody of me? Is that why I stopped being Robin?” Why must Bruce raise all his children to be detectives?

There was a clatter that came from right outside the kitchen, followed by a, “I didn’t tell him anything, Bruce, I swear.”

And then there was a mischievous smile that formed on Jason’s face, “Yeah, he didn’t. He didn’t even tell me why I was dunked in the Lazarus Pit.”

Bruce came into the kitchen and leveled Jason with a look, “If Dick didn’t tell you either of those things, how do you know them? Did you remember something?”

Jason went back to mixing, “You’re forgetting you’re not the only detective in the house, old man.”

Dick snagged a chocolate chip from the container Jason had gotten out, “He found an old notebook and eavesdropped on me and Damian’s conversation.”

“Though Todd does remember some things. He remembered my mother and I. And I suppose Drake.”

Then Tim came in making a beeline for the coffee maker, “I don’t think I count, gremlin, I was the boy next door.”

“No, you were the camera kid. Bruce, I was right . How many times did I tell you there was a kid following us? How many times did you say, hrf.” Jason put down the bowl to emphasize his point.

Bruce sighed, but there was a slight smile on his face, “Fine, Jason, you were right—“

“Exactly. Now, since I proved to be more observant than you, you have to give me something?” Jason was obviously trying for the teasing tone that Dick usually uses, but it came out less certain. Like Jason didn’t know where he stood with Bruce. Which was fair considering last night. 

Bruce picked up on it too, and reached a hand across the counter, “Jason, I’m sorry for acting really distant last night, I just– it’s a lot different seeing you like this again. Though, that doesn’t change the fact that I would give you the world if you asked for it. You don’t have to prove anything to me.” Bruce looked around the room, and then glanced at the floor, “That goes for all of you.”

And all the boys just stood there, gaping at Bruce. 

Though Jason was frowning and looking down. He shook his head, “But not… older me, right?”

“Doesn’t matter if you’re old and wrinkly, or too little to walk, I would give any version of you the world.” he had a hand on his heart, “but I- I can’t kill for–”

“No!” Jason had taken a couple steps back and had his hands up like he’d been caught, “I would never want you to kill someone. I would never want anyone to kill someone. Not for me.”

Bruce stood there frozen for a second. Everyone was frozen. Because the youngest three were suddenly given the knowledge that their older brother, the one who always seemed to be out for blood, was a pacifist. And the three people in the room who knew Jason, were hit with the fact that death and all the hardships Jason had to go through had changed him so much.

Though Bruce nodded, “Ok. ok, Jason.” Bruce cleared his throat, “What did you need?”

“I’m just… really confused. And no one’s telling me anything, and I-I know something bad happened, I just don’t know what and I don’t want to draw any wrong conclusions, so can I ask? What happened?”

The grief looked like it was about to tear Bruce apart. How are you supposed to tell your son that he went through hell and back. That he’s lost almost everything he’d gained in the three short years he had lived with them. How are you supposed to tell your son that he died ?

“A lot. A lot happened in the past couple years, Jason. Zatanna is coming over tomorrow to hopefully get you back to your normal age and all your memories back. Going over what happened during that time would just be…”

“Like digging up old graves?” Jason supplied. He must have noticed everyone flinch, “Sorry, that was probably a bad choice of words. Can’t I be given one piece of knowledge? I’m just trying to figure out how everything fits together, and the one piece I can’t seem to let go of is…Sheila Haywood? Did I really get a mom back? Are we close? Can… Can I see her?” 

And the hopeful look in Jason’s eyes was an exact mirror of the look he had in his eyes days before he disappeared. “No, Jason.”

The hope in his eyes flattered, because maybe just couldn’t see her. Right now. “To which one?”

Bruce didn’t say anything,

“Oh. I lost another mami .” And even though Jason was looking at the ground, it wasn’t hard to tell there were tears pooled up in his eyes, “How?”

Bruce clenched his jaw and looked to Alfred. He would not be able to make it through any more of this conversation.

Alfred wiped his hands on a towel and brought out a handkerchief to wipe away the tears that had fallen from Jason’s face, “Your mother, she was being held hostage. And you tried very hard, you tried so hard to save her, but in the end… there just wasn’t enough time.” 

“But, I-I could’ve been faster– I could’ve–”

Bruce rounded the counter and kneeled so he was eye level with Jason, “It wasn’t your fault.”

Jason bit his lip to keep it from wobbling, before burying his head into Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce immediately wrapped his arms around Jason.

“It was the Joker , wasn’t it?” Jason mumbled into Bruce’s shirt.

Bruce held onto Jason much tighter.

[coff33notforme]

Weirdly Specific Mandela Catalouge headcannons

A/n: I'm in pain

Genre: Crack, fluff, headcannons

Ft: Adam, Jonah, Mark, Cesar

Vol.1

Mark:

Mark will only get the bubblegum flavored toothpaste at the dentist's office and if they don’t ask him what kind he wants he will ask them specifically for bubblegum 

He also probably makes eye contact with the dentist the whole time 

Mf likes cool ranch Doritos fight me

He doesn't like corn but like just when it's the individual pieces he will eat it and only eat it on the cob

He's probably has seen every single fast and furious movie 

Cesar:

Is a very picky eater 

He actually likes the brown sugar pop tarts (I’m so sorry)

His favorite show growing up was Jimmy neutron 

Really likes friends, hes really invested

Has a different specifically colored toothbrush for every month (red for October blue for December etc.)

He had a fnaf phase 100%

Vol.2

Jonah:

Wears light up sketchers change my mind

He was the type of person to just randomly yell at people in the hallways in middle school

He LOVES Gordon Ramsay

He made Adam binge all of hell's kitchen with him for the thirteenth time 

He was that one kid who one a race in third grade and never let it go

Like that’s how he pooled all the girls, by winning that race

Certified frat boy

Adam:

He wears Nike shoes nothing else he only has one pair of shoes

He goes to Starbucks only for the cake pops 

He was a theater kid in school

He secretly loves Disney movies, his favorite is beauty and the beast

Literally has wheelies attached to his shoes at all times

He really likes asparagus don’t ask me why he just dose

Watches the office a lot 

Has beef with Mario for some reason, he’ll be at game-stop with Jonah staring down the Mario display 

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

all the concussions gave steve memory problems and migraines bad enough to hospitalize and it gets really rough on him sometimes

Just his fucking luck.

He couldn’t remember if his mother wanted chicken noodle or cream of mushroom soup and he lost the whole slip of paper with the list. Must have thrown it out with the Snickers bar he’d nicked.

He tossed both in the wire shopping cart. Heard a familiar voice from behind and turned to see Billy Hargrove looking at him. A perplexed expression, the barest hint of uncertainty behind the eyes.

Steve asked like he’d missed something, “What?”

Billy’s eyes rolled up, “I said, where’ve you been, Harrington? You’ve missed the last four days of school.” He took in the mass already forming in the cart, “Some people are getting worried— What the hell are you doing?”

Steve glanced from Hargrove, to the basket, and back to Billy again, “Uhm….” Billy raised both his eyebrows, Steve thought they looked kind of like those fuzzy caterpillars his mother always yelled at him for trying to touch.

“It’s just,” Hargrove gestured to Steve, “You don’t look like the typical skipping school guy. You’re buying—” he squinted and Steve stepped out of the way for him, “—Relish, whole grain bread, and pre-made cookie dough? Shouldn’t you be sneaking some beer, or frozen pizzas?”

Steve pursed his lips and turned back to assess his lot, “That’s a lot of questions for someone holding bubblegum toothpaste.”

He heard Billy snort, kinda bemused, “It’s for Max.”

Steve’s ears started pinging when a wheel began squeaking, “Whatever floats your boat, Buddy.” His skull felt like he’d gone through a car wash. Not as bad as the rest of the week, but it was getting there. He vaguely remembered hearing something about a purple nail polish, although he hoped his mother would understand. “Sorry to cut this short,” he wasn’t even sure if Billy was still there, “I have to get home.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder, gentle but heavy, “You’re lookin’ a little red, Harrington.” Something smooth pressed against this forehead, his vision a little too blurry and unfocused to really see what Billy was doing exactly. “You’re warm.” The silence wasn’t heavy, and when Billy let him ease a bit of his own weight against him, Steve didn’t feel as much in a rush as before anyway. Billy’s finger brushed his jaw, tried not to think to much about it. “If you pay for the toothpaste, I’ll drive you home.”

“Deal.” Steve let Billy take the cart, “The doctors said I shouldn’t drive when it gets like this anyway.” Billy’s arm wrapped around his waist and then moved up to his upper back.

“Oh yeah?”

Steve glared at the soup cans, “The cafeteria lights trigger them the most.” He turned his head towards Billy once they reached the end of a line. “I have a study hall fifth period, the sunlight when they open the windows reflects off of the tables and walls. I have light sensitive eyes now. I had to get more pain relief.”

Billy looked over hastily, eyes slightly bigger, “Now?”

Steve looked away from the magazine display, “Now, what?”

Billy had a reflection of fear along his brow, “When did they start, Steve?”

Oh.

“It’s been a while,” he answered. The hand on his shoulder moved around, spread its warmth and made it so they were closer together. The pain subsided, if only a smidge.

“I’m sorry.”

He stepped on Billy’s foot purposefully, “We’ve done this already, Hargrove.”

“But—”

“You are not the sole reason—”

“You were at the hospital, weren’t you? Wheeler and Byers ment—”

Steve stepped on his foot again, harsh enough that Billy sucked in a breath, “Don’t interrupt me.”

Billy gaped, Steve become sidetracked with his freckles. “You started it!”

Before he could lift his foot again for another attack, the line moved forward.

—

Billy had one hand on the wheel and the other around Steve’s wrist, feeling out the pulse.

“I’m fine, William.”

“Stephen.”

He closed his eyes, discontent, “You did my yard work for a week.”

Billy leaned more towards the steering wheel, “So?”

“You gave the kids free swim passes. And. You’re still helping me with, like, more than half of my classes. For free.”

Billy nodded, “Monday’s and Thursday’s.” He nodded, “Which you missed this week, because of me.”

“No—”

“You were never hospitalized for you headaches before that night, Harrington.”

Steve slid his arm and gripped Billy’s hand in order to do the same with his attention, “My head started getting fucked up the day a got a beating from Jonathan Byers.” Billy scowled. “And you know what?” just a hint of a smile peaked through Steve’s lips. Billy glanced over with distaste. “I deserved it and I don’t blame him for it.” Billy’s hand went limp in his own. Heavier. “And I don’t blame you anymore. You help me remember my schedule and locker combination. You let me have your orange slices at lunch because you know they’re the only fruit I’ll eat besides strawberries.” Billy’s eyes were glassy as he pulled into the driveway. “And guess what?”

Billy wouldn’t look at him, “What?”

“It’s panini night, Mom got the prosciutto and salami.”

Billy considered it and then started hurriedly out of the car “You can carry one bag, Harrington, any more and I’ll kiss you.”

“What kind of threat is that?”

—

It had been tomato soup, by the way.

[inkykeiji]

day 4 ❅ let’s go below zero and hide from the sun

i love you forever where we’ll have some fun

day three ❅ day four ❅ day five | series masterlist

character: todoroki touya | dabi

genre: smut + angst

notes: eeeeeeee meery christmas eve everyone, here’s day four!!!!! day four is my favourite out of the five, so i truly hope you all enjoy it as much as i do <3 as always, please pay attention to the warnings n stay safe!! | title credit: snowman by sia

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), implied noncon, sub-drop, panic attacks, fingering, cockwarming, car sex, mentioned drug use, generally toxic relationships, size difference, verbal fights, tense family dynamics

words: 8.4k

synopsis:

“It’s nothing,”

Tender fingers tuck a tuft of alabaster behind his ear.

“It’s not nothing,”

“It doesn’t matter,”

Gentle lips place soft kisses along his jaw.

“It matters very much to me, niichan,”

“It’s—It’s stupid, fucking stupid,”

A small palm finds solace on his cheek, cupping it as a thumb strokes the skin.

“It’s not stupid if it’s hurting you, baby,”

  ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅    

Sunlight streams through the crystal window, tiny dust motes playing hide and seek between the rays, painting golden beams across the smooth skin of Touya’s bare back, his skin almost sparkling in the warm light.

A little whimper slips from between your lips as your eyelids stick together, sealed shut by dry salt, brow furrowing as you finally pry them open. They hurt, dry and tacky and squinting against the too-bright light, spitting a hiss through your teeth.

“Ow,” you whine as you try to roll onto your side, every muscle in your body aching and stuffed full of exhaustion.

You’re sweating—Touya is always way too hot, and this bed is decidedly much too tiny for the both of you—raising a heavy arm to try and shove the sheets down to your waist, only to find that you can’t. It takes your hazy mind a few moments to realize that the sheets are stuck to your skin.

Bleary eyes blink twice, raising your head off of the plush pillow with immense effort and gazing down at your naked body. The muscles in your arms are screeching in protest as stiff, sore fingers fist in the sheets, giving one hard yank and ripping the material from your body, a sharp gasp hitching in your throat.

Hard, dried cum is splattered across your entire torso, wincing a little as you arch your back and watch it crack on your skin. Vibrant petals of indigo and violet have bloomed across your body, growing in places you don’t ever remember them being planted in.

What the hell happened last night?

It’s hard for you to recall, really, eyebrows knitting as you think hard, sifting through all of your recent memories and trying to remember when someone spurted cum all over your body.

Everything from last night is nothing but a tangled mess in your mind, with loops and crisscrosses, certain memories seeming to overlap, to morph together the more you think about them. It’s as if you’re watching an old film through a thick cloud of fog, flickering and stained with sepia as the sound keeps cutting in and out, the projector stopping once in a while, stuttering and repeating frames or burning holes through the filmstock.

It takes every ounce of strength you have to roll your beaten body onto your side, yelping softly from the massive effort. A sudden rush of tears pricks your eyes, burning in your throat as you try desperately to hold them back, to swallow them silently like a good little girl.

But it’s hard, tiny hiccupped sobs attempting to climb up your raw throat, catching painfully in your chest as you strive to suppress them, to gulp them back down, to force them back into the core of your body and stay put. Yet they refuse to cooperate, becoming more and more vicious as they fight against you, causing you to cough and choke on them as they finally escape your lips, and you mentally berate yourself for such a stupid rush of senseless emotions.

Don’t cry. There’s no reason to cry. It’s too early—you’re going to wake him and he’s going to be—

“Baby?” Touya croaks, voice deeper than normal, hoarser than normal.

And, God, he sounds so fucking hot in the morning.

“M’fine,” you say, though the words just come out sounding garbled and wet.

“Baby, baby, no,” he’s saying softly as he pushes himself into a sitting position, sheet pooling around his waist and exposing his chest, strong arms hooking under yours as he pulls you up and into his lap.

“I’m sorry,” you whine into his neck, shutting your eyes tightly as tears begin to leak from the corners.

“For what, princess?”

You don’t know. You just are. Shaking your head in response, you shove your face against him, letting your tears drip off your jaw and soak into his skin.

“Alright, alright,” a large hand pets your back rhythmically, up and down, up and down, fingers tracing along your spine. “Niichan’s got you,”

“What’s going on?”

The unexpected voice startles you, and you freeze in Touya’s embrace.

“Is she okay?”

It’s groggy and rough, vibrating in his throat, and you nuzzle into Touya’s shoulder, chest hiccupping.

“I don’t—I’m not sure,” Touya responds, and you can hear it, that hint of worry laced in his voice, accompanied by a sprinkling of frustration, but it only makes you cry harder, entire body trembling against him.

The other bed groans as Natsuo slides out of it, bare feet padding against the hardwood, your mattress dipping as he sits on the edge a moment later.

“Aw, poor baby,” Natsuo purrs, a soft, massive hand clamping down on your tense shoulder, thick fingers digging into your muscles. “Was last night too much for you, sweetheart?”

His voice is so patronizing, and you whimper a little against Touya, who kicks his younger brother’s thigh with his foot.

“Don’t be an asshole,”

“Says you,” Natsuo scoffs. “I’m being serious. It might be sub-drop,” The bed shifts again, and then kisses are being pressed to the column of your spine, down, down, down your back, words murmured sweetly into your skin. “I’m sorry, babygirl,”

“S’wasn’t too much f’me,” you mumble, heat seeping into your cheeks as both men laugh.

“Definitely sub-drop,” Touya says with a sigh, resting a large palm on your head. “I’ll run a bath,”

“I’ll make some tea and eggs,”

Peaking out from Touya’s shoulder, you watch as Natsuo heaves himself off the bed, snatching his shirt up from the floor and slipping it on before exiting your bedroom with nothing but his Frosty the Snowman briefs as bottoms.

Touya gently deposits you on the bed, slipping out from under you and shaking his head with a chuckle when you whine loudly, making little grabby hands for him, muttering Yup, definitely sub-drop under his breath.

Touya pulls on a pair of grey sweatpants and a nondescript black t-shirt over his head before he returns to the bed, laughing again at the involuntary pout set on your lips.

“C’mon, brat,” he murmurs affectionately, wrapping your naked, cum-stained body in the sheet before he hoists you up, carrying you across the hall to the bathroom and placing you on the counter, still swaddled up.  

“Bubbles?” You ask, voice small as he bends to start running the bath.

“I dunno if we have any, princess,” he says with a small frown as he turns back to face you, sapphire eyes scanning the washroom quickly.

It turns out you do, in a pink bottle with faded Disney princesses on the worn label, hidden behind half-finished cans of old hairspray and expired toothpaste, covered in a thin layer of dust.

“Very fitting,” Touya snorts.

It must be over ten years old, but that’s alright—bubble bath doesn’t expire, does it?

Touya pours a bit too much of the syrupy magenta substance under the running water, resulting in you being encased in a mountain of foamy suds that reek of artificial bubblegum.

“Y-You’re not coming?” You ask, a frown materializing on your face as you watch Touya turn off the tap, wiping some of the bubbles that cling to his arm on his thigh.

“No, baby,” he says softly, kneeling in front of the tub. He guesses your next question before your dazed mind can find the word. “Because niichan wouldn’t be able to resist fucking you if he did, and that’s not what you need right now,”

“I could handle it,” you grumble, and Touya laughs, eyes glittering.

“It isn’t a question of whether or not you can handle it, it’s a question of whether or not you need it,”

But even without him snuggled behind you it’s nice nonetheless, your niichan cleaning your body slowly, unhurriedly, dragging a rough cloth across your skin and lathering soap in little circles, cleaning the sweat that has dried sticky and salty on your neck and collarbone, then elbow-deep in the water as he gently pries your thighs apart, scrubbing away the dried cum. Soft, murmured affirmations spill from his lips as he works, praising you for being such a good girl last night, for being such a good girl as he washes you.

Good girl, very good girl, his good girl, his best girl.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

Just past noon, Rei kicks you all out of the house.

“The Takasu Snow Park is open until four today,” she tells you curtly, practically shooing the five of you out of the cabin. “Don’t come back until it’s closed.”

She lets you take different cars, this time.

“And Touya, Shouto,” she calls from the doorway, lips pressed in a firm, thin line.

Both boys freeze at the sound of their names, hesitantly turning to meet their mother’s gaze.

“Don’t forget that you’re doing the dishes tonight,”

Shouto scoffs as he turns away, climbing into the back seat of Natsuo’s car, and Touya rolls his eyes, muttering something about being treated like a child, to which Fuyumi retorts that it’s only fair, considering the fact that he’s been acting like one.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

The Takasu Snow Park is just under an hour from the cabin. It’s surprisingly busy for Christmas Eve, filled with high-pitched squeals of excitement and bubbles of laughter as children wrapped up in brightly coloured snowsuits waddle around with tubes in tow.

And Touya drives right past it.

“Niichan, I think you just—”

“We aren’t going tubing, baby,” he says nonchalantly, a wicked spark glinting in his eye as he glances over at you, lips tugging up into a crooked smirk at the way your head quirks cutely, shaking it a little to indicate that you don’t understand what he means. “Niichan would rather play with that pretty pussy of yours instead,”

And he does, finding a shaded little nook just off the main road, snow squeaking under rubber tires as he pulls into it, partially obscuring his car.

“C’mere, princess,” he breathes, patting a thigh. “Come play with your niichan,”

You scamper across the center console and crawl into his lap, thighs straddling him and giggling a little as his fingers inch up, up, up, until they’re pushing your white lacy panties to the side and gliding against your slit.

“Something funny, pretty girl?”

“No, niichan,” you gasp as a finger dips into you, curling as he drags it out and repeating the action a few more times before adding another, your head finding purchase on his shoulder.

Nimble fingers work slowly, lazily, messily, Touya’s free hand busy scrolling through missed text messages on his work phone as he lets you pathetically rut against his palm, fucking yourself on his digits, craning his neck a little and allowing you to trace along the brilliant ink that stains his skin with your tongue.

And it’s nice. It’s almost romantic in a sense, just the two of you silently enjoying each other’s company, the only noise your gentle little mewls and a howling gust of wind every once in a while. The countryside, draped with freshly fallen snow from the storm yesterday, glitters in the late afternoon sun, the cloudless sky as blue as Touya’s eyes. You sigh dreamily as you gaze up at it, basking in the feeling of your niichan’s fingers buried inside of you, stroking your silky walls intermittently, just the two of you in your own little world, protected from everything else by the Audi’s bulletproof glass.

“W-Wanna cockwarm you,” the words are mumbled against his neck sleepily, your eyes lidded and heavy, only half conscious and barely aware of what you’re saying.

But you can feel his cock, hard and hot through dark denim, and it makes your little hole clench, fluttering around nothing. “Jus wanna be full, wanna be close,”

Touya’s chuckling as he shifts a little, hands slipping between your bodies to unbuckle his belt. “That so, princess? Is my baby girl being a needy little slut?” And despite the degrading words used, his tone is warm, gentle and full of compassion. “Niichan will let you sit on his cock if that’s what you want,”

“Please,” you’re whining, pulling back to gaze at him with bleary eyes. “Please, please,”

“Alright, greedy little thing,” he hushes you like he’s calming a fussy baby, shucking his jeans down just enough to let his cock spring out, using his thumb to push it forward, presenting it to you.

“So pretty, niichan, so pretty,” you’re mumbling as a small hand wraps around the base, squirming a little in his lap and lifting yourself to hover over him, knees digging into the leather on either side of his hips.

He lets you do all of the work, merely watching you through hooded eyes, an odd little grin present on his face. Touya doesn’t normally allow you to cockwarm him, hates how goddamn teasing it usually is, but he figures that today we have time to kill, so why not?

“There you go, baby,” he murmurs as you sink down on him, a loud moan getting caught in your throat. “You feel better now, huh? You feel better now that niichan’s stuffing your little cunt full?”

A soft whine is all you can manage, nodding dumbly against his shoulder. Yes, yes, you feel better, you feel right, you feel complete.

And you can’t help but hump him a little, hips rocking against his in tiny, shallow motions, clit catching on his pubic bone with every push forward and drag back.

“Yeah, that’s it, princess,” he breathes, though his eyes are still focused on his phone, reading an article about a drug bust you’re sure his gang was a part of. “Use niichan to get yourself off, come on,”

He tells you to go slow, to be careful, cute pussy still sore from the abuse it suffered last night, and you obey, hips moving in unhurried motions, just enjoying the feeling of him being inside you, of him being this close, of how good it feels, sweet little whimpers of niichan, niichan, being huffed out against his neck.

It takes a good half hour of grinding before you’re finally creaming all over his cock, body trembling in his arms as he hushes you through it, whispering into your hair how good you are for him, one of his hands gripping your hips and forcing you to keep moving until your body collapses against his, boneless and pliant. Touya affords you a few moments to come down, cock still buried deep inside you, twitching as it patiently waits for your breathing to calm.

He isn’t gonna fuck you, he tells you as he shifts your limp body off of his cock, not with how you were feeling this morning. But he doesn’t think it’s very fair to make niichan suffer with such a hard cock, especially after he just let you cum all over it.

You don’t think it’s very fair, either, murmuring your agreement to him as your hand wraps around the shaft, his cock jumping at your touch.

It’s still so wet from all of your own juices, aiding your hand as it pumps him, hard and fast the way he likes it, obscene squelching echoing throughout the car.

Heat floods your cheeks while you watch your motions, stomach curling in on itself as his cock gleams with your slick, and it’s so hot, that’s so hot baby.

It doesn’t take long to have him panting out those gorgeous sounds, throaty moans and broken little whines, and you can tell he’s close when his hips begin to shift, thrusting into your fist. But you don’t want him making a mess all over his nice car, or his pretty sweater, leaning down to close your lips around the tip and suckle, tongue swiping across his slit as your hand works.

He whimpers out a curse before his hips stutter, thrusting his cock into your mouth as it paints your throat with spurts of burning cream. And you swallow it all, like the good little girl you are, looking up at him with sparkling eyes as you thank him for his cum, and God he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

Christmas Eve dinner consists of a symphony of forks dragging across porcelain and spoons scraping against bowls. Rei tersely shoos everyone out of the kitchen the moment it’s over, brusquely ordering Touya and Shouto to get started on their chores.

The rest of the family shuffles into the living room, sitting stiffly on the couches, the television’s volume low as Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer plays on the screen.

Fuyumi tries to reason with her mother in a hushed urgent voice, tries to tell her that it’s a bad idea to leave the two of them alone, especially with Touya surrounded by so many objects that could potentially be used as weapons.

“They’re adults,” her mother responds, tone clipped. “And they aren’t alone,” grey eyes glance over at the kitchen, at her eldest and youngest standing together at the sink, frothy bubbles beginning to build as the tap runs. “I can see them perfectly fine from here.”

“Mom—” Natsuo begins, cutting himself off at the glare his mother shoots his way, swallowing his words and nodding instead. “—is right. Mom is right,” he looks over at his sister. “They’re fine, look at them,”

But his voice is high, thin, glassy, the words trembling ever so slightly as stone eyes dart towards his siblings, both with rigid shoulders, weighted with the thick tension suffocating the room.

“They should be fine,”

But it’s hard for you to watch, too much for you to watch, entire body consumed by sharp anxiety as you observe Touya’s stiff movements. His jaw is set, nostrils flaring as he glares down at the sink, frustration and anger and red-hot hatred beginning to ooze through his mask of passivity, to seep through the cracks Shouto’s dexterously created using hostile comments and snide glances as his tools.

And on Christmas Eve, that mask finally shatters.

Because Touya doesn’t have it in him to continue his act of indifference anymore, worn out and exhausted by the effort. Trembling hands pluck a spoon from the mountain of dishes sitting in the aluminum sink, wetting it with water and then laving over it with a soapy sponge.

He’s sure he’s coming down—even though it isn’t time yet, even though he knows, deep down, that the comedown is still a few hours away, even though he knows he knows his body better than this, has been swallowing oxys for so long that he’s got the comedown memorized, right down to the fucking second—but he swears he can feel it, can feel the migraine beginning to throb behind his eyes, can feel the cold sweat beginning to bead at his temples, can feel the chills beginning to course through his body despite how warm the cabin is, teeth grinding to keep from clattering.

The air stings his clenched teeth as he sucks in a breath, exhaling slowly, shakily, trying to force his mind to focus on the dish in his hand, on the warm water cascading over his skin, on the light scent of artificial lemon wafting from his sudsy skin. It’s fine, he’s fine, all he has to do is wash a few stupid dishes and then—

“Listen—”

“Shut the fuck up and scrub,”

“I just wanted to—”

“I have nothing to say to you,” Touya growls, gaze hyper-focused on the plate he’s been cleaning for over a minute now.

A lie. He has a lot to say to him, but he’d rather not make their mother cry, again, desperately hoping that Shouto will just shut his mouth and finish cleaning his side of the skin so they can get this fucking over with.

Shouto sighs, deep and patronizing, scoffing as his chest rises with the force of it.

“You’re impossible,” he grumbles. “Why can’t you—”

But then it’s all bubbling over, acidic words flowing from his mouth before he has a moment to consider what he’s saying. He wishes Shouto would’ve just left it, would’ve gritted his teeth like Touya and finished their chores silently instead of trying to play some fucking martyr, instead of trying to fix something that has always been broken.

“I heard what you said in that fucking washroom,” Touya cuts him off, eyes finally flashing to his face, jaw clenching twice as he glares at his baby brother. “Don’t you ever fill her head with that bullshit again, do you hear me?”

“She’s my step-sister, too,” Shouto shoots back, scrubbing turned needlessly aggressive, eyebrows set in a deep furrow as he glowers at the bowl in his hands.

“I don’t care,” Touya hisses. “Stay the hell away from her,”

Something massive, sharp and shiny catches his eye as he turns to deposit the clean dish on the drying rack, quivering hand hovering over it in hesitation. A butcher knife, gleaming in the dim, warm light of the kitchen, stuck halfway in the knife block.

Beside him, Shouto snorts, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disgust as he looks back to his hands, rinsing the bowl under a stream of hot water and placing it on the towel-covered counter.

“What? You gonna stab me? Really? In front of mom on Christmas Eve? Were the bloody nose and the black eye and the split lip not enough for you?”

No, of course not; it will never be enough for Touya.

“Why not?” Touya asks, voice calm, sounding almost serene, for the first time tonight. “It’s not like she’d miss you. I’m the one she took with her when she left, aren’t I? I think we both know that mom loves me more than she loves you—isn’t that right, scarface,”

And that—that has Shouto freezing mid motion, hand halting under the flowing tap water, half rinsed glass still in his grasp. It takes a moment for the words to sink in, Touya watching him almost lazily, that annoying indifferent smirk finally forming on his lips, achingly familiar.

Heterochromatic eyes glaze over and Shouto swallows roughly, jaw clenching twice as he turns towards his eldest brother, the glass clutched in his sudsy hand squeaking as his grip tightens. And for a moment, Touya thinks he’s won, breath bated as he waits for that first tear to escape, to roll down Shouto’s unblemished cheeks and fall crashing to the floor.

But then Shouto’s rolling his shoulders once, twice, puffing his chest out just a touch as he straightens to his full height, nearly a full inch taller that Touya, and exhales forcefully through his nose.

“Y’know, if you loved her—I mean, if you really loved her—you’d let her go,” His voice is sharp, clear, ringing throughout the kitchen, ringing throughout Touya’s head, bouncing off the walls in his mind and reverberating. “What you have, what you’re feeling, isn’t love—it’s obsession.”

That infamous smirk begins to fall, cobalt eyes narrowing at his baby brother’s words, breath beginning to quicken. Shouto sees it then—that final crack in the mask Touya’s so painstakingly crafted, in the mask Touya so expertly worn for so many years—and he strikes.

“It’s possession.”

No. He doesn’t want to hear this, doesn’t need to hear this—it’s all lies, isn’t it? Touya tries to scoff, tries to roll his eyes and shake his head at such ridiculousness, but it feels like his body’s encased in ice, frozen straight to the core.

“It’s insecurity.”

Blood rushes in his ears, but it fails to drown out Shouto’s crisp voice, his words slicing straight through the white noise. Touya wants to tell him to stop, wants to tell him to shut the hell up, wants to silence him by driving that huge knife straight through his fucking chest, but his tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth, refusing to obey his brain as it shouts at it to fight back, goddamn it!

“I meant what I said to her in that washroom,” his younger brother spits, words dripping with hostility as his eyes narrow, giving Touya a once-over like he’s the most pathetic thing Shouto has ever laid eyes on. “She does deserve so much better than you and you fucking know it, but you’re too selfish to let her go. That isn’t love.”

And it’s those final three words that finally have the mask breaking into tiny fragments and falling away, revealing glassy sapphires and a twitching nose, a trembling chin and a hard swallow. It’s those final three words that have it shattering concurrently with the glass in Shouto’s hand, shards clattering to the tiled floor, smashing into smaller pieces upon impact.

It catches Fuyumi’s attention first, who had been on edge and observing the pair sharply, body coiled and ready to spring at the slightest hint of danger.

“Shouto, your hand!” she cries as she leaps up, eyes wide and trained on the blood oozing from Shouto’s palm, rushing down his arm and dripping off his elbow.

But neither of them break their stare, Shouto entirely numb to the pain, Touya entirely suffocated by it, molars grinding together as he tries in vain to stop his chest from stuttering. It isn’t until Fuyumi grabs Shouto by the shoulders and forces him to face her that their gaze is broken, the youngest finally looking down to find his palm stained with viscous crimson.

Frantic sapphire eyes dart around the room, something akin to panic clawing at Touya’s chest, tearing him open from the inside out and making each breath more painful than the next. He needs to go, he needs to leave, he needs to get the hell out of this kitchen, out of this house, needs to, needs to, needs…

Feet stumble a little as he rushes up the stairs, catching himself on the railing twice as he ascends to the top. Someone calls his name, he thinks, but he can barely hear it over the intense ringing in his ears, his vision fading in and out of focus. The door to your shared bedroom slams open, brass knob whacking off the drywall and leaving an ugly little hole not unlike the larger one Shouto’s head left in the living room wall the day before.

Startled and gasping, your book falls from your hands and tumbles to the floor as Touya barrels through the threshold, making a beeline for the nondescript chest of wooden drawers tucked into the corner, yanking it open and beginning to riffle through the neatly folded clothing.

It sounds like he’s muttering something to himself, but you can’t discern what it is, heart beginning to thud against your ribcage. The tufts of hair at the back of his neck are coated in sweat, sticking to the skin, his breathing harsh and uneven as a curse hitches in his chest, rapidly moving onto the next drawer when whatever he’s looking for doesn’t turn up in the first.

A potent mix of adrenaline and dread floods your veins, and for a moment you’re frozen, little fingers curled so tightly in the sheets under you it’s painful, breathing stopped as you watch your niichan urgently rummage through the second drawer, his back beginning to hiccup.

For a moment, you aren’t sure what the hell is going on, unblinking eyes watching his motions in some sort of daze. For a moment, you’re terrified he might be overdosing, frantically searching for—for—you don’t even know, for some sort of antidote Natsuo might’ve given him, or something.

But then, he chokes out a pathetic little half-sob, trying in vain to swallow it back down akin to the first night you spent at the cabin, and then you’re leaping off the bed and rushing towards him in alarm, wrapping your arms around him tightly from behind, and he just…breaks. Collapses against the wooden chest hard enough to make the entire thing wobble, burying his head in his folded arms as his entire body shudders under the force of the sob that tears through his chest.

“Niichan!” you gasp, pawing at the front of his shirt, trying to make him move to face you. “Niichan, niichan, what is it? What’s wrong?” your own voice breaks with the threat of tears as you speak, heart racing in your chest.

He doesn’t respond, merely turns in your embrace and collapses on you instead, face buried in the crook of your neck as he weeps, big juddering breaths that have his entire back convulsing.

The action surprises you, a stark contrast from his stubborn resistance from the first night, but it worries you, too, such surrender uncharacteristic of him.

But your body’s running on autopilot, immediately petting his hair as your other arm tightens around his waist, clutching him. Soft hushes fall from your lips as you hold him, rocking your bodies slightly as you whisper into ivory tufts; it’s okay, you’re there, it’s alright, you’ve got him, you love him.

And the sob that rips from his throat as those last few words leave your lips is nothing short of vicious, has him coughing wetly into your neck and whining a little, large hands curling in the material of your dress as he tries to pull you closer, closer, closer.

“Baby, please, tell me what’s wrong,” you beg and your voice cracks, blinking hard against the tears flooding your own eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can help, please,”

He shakes his head, whimpering incoherently into your neck.

Can’t…Won’t…Pathetic…Disgusting…

“Please,” the word catches in your throat as tears finally escape your eyes, rolling down your cheeks in pairs. “Please, let me help, let me make you feel better,”

“I—I—I’m—” he tries, shaking his head again, but you urge him to continue, plead with him to try again. “Need to get out, n-need to—to make it stop,”

You aren’t sure what he means, but it doesn’t matter, body moving on pure instinct the moment the words are out of his mouth, little hand snatching the keys to the Audi off the surface of the dresser and dragging him along behind you.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

The road is empty, silent, entirely barren as the Audi weaves through it, fat snowflakes beginning to drift down from the wispy clouds that decorate the night sky, taking turns blanketing the full moon and softening it’s beams of ivory light.

You don’t drive very far. You haven’t a clue where you’re going, but it doesn’t matter, frenetic eyes searching for the first little secluded clearing you can pull into.

Touya is unsettlingly quiet, save for his soft sniffles and the gentle rustling of his clothing as he uses a sleeve to wipe at his nose. Hiccups are still catching in his chest, but he’s trying his hardest to stop them, to quiet them, growling a little in pure frustration each time one escapes. Your stomach churns uneasily at his muteness—you wish he would just say something, glancing over at him worriedly with your bottom lip sucked between your teeth, his sapphire eyes destitute, bloodshot and glassy as they stare indigently at his knees.

The small village that the cliff overlooks emits a warm glow of golden light, hovering hazily over it like a halo. Christmas lights are strung up on a few of the cabins, little glowing dots of red and green and blue lining the roofs. A dusting of snow has begun to collect, like gingerbread houses sprinkled with icing sugar.

Touya is still silent when you cut the engine, stays silent when you turn to peer at him from your spot in the driver’s seat, stays silent when you place a dainty hand on his bicep, rubbing soothing circles into the clothed muscle and sighing.

“Niichan,”

Nothing.

“Niichan, look at me,”

Nothing.

“Touya-nii,” you murmur, kicking off your boots and climbing over the center console into his lap, his arms immediately opening to embrace you. “What’s going on?”

His gaze still avoids yours, despite the fact that his hands are curling around your body, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to make you wince, needing you close, closer. And his voice is so quiet, almost desolate as he answers.

“It’s nothing,”

Tender fingers tuck a tuft of alabaster behind his ear.

“It’s not nothing,”

“It doesn’t matter,”

Gentle lips place soft kisses along his jaw.

“It matters very much to me, niichan,”

“It’s—It’s stupid, fucking stupid,”

A small palm finds solace on his cheek, cupping it as a thumb strokes the skin.

“It’s not stupid if it’s hurting you, baby,”

Cobalt darts around the car, trying to look anywhere but at your face as sharp teeth sink into his bottom lip, an attempt to quell its quivering. A soft sigh leaves your lips as gentle hands cup his face, forcing his gaze to meet yours.

“Let me in,” you whisper, soft little thumbs caressing the ink under his eyes. “Let me help,”

Burning sapphire sears into your eyes, gaze penetrating and powerful as it shines with unshed tears, and you have to force yourself to not look away, to keep staring into those pools of gleaming blue, feeling as though you’re staring directly at the sun.

He doesn’t blink, but the tears collecting in his eyes become too many, too much, spilling over his lashline and cascading down inky cheeks, leaving little gleaming trails in their wake. He inhales deeply, holding the breath in his chest for a moment before exhaling slowly, the breath trembling.

“I don’t even know where to fucking start,”

And his voice is so low you nearly miss it, raw and hoarse and barely above a whisper.

“Take your time,” tiny fingers run through his hair again, his eyes closing with the motion, more tears dripping down his cheeks. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. Just…Tell me what’s bothering you,”

What is bothering him? It’s hard to say, not because it’s complicated, but because he doesn’t want to acknowledge it, doesn’t want to accept it, doesn’t want to admit that his baby brother’s words have affected him more than he ever thought they would.

If you really loved her…You’d let her go.

He does really love you, he wants to scream until his throat is sore, until his throat is bleeding, molars grinding at the thought of anyone thinking otherwise. He loves you so much, loves you too much, loves you more than he’s loved anything in his entire fucking life, he’s sure of it, positive of it.

He’s loved you since he first began stealing kisses from you, in the kitchen when mom wasn’t looking. He’s loved you since you tiptoed to his room, mumbling about a nightmare and seeking solace in his warm bed, in his warm arms. He’s loved you since you sobbed into his chest, that night you told him you wanted all of him, that night when he realized that you love him, too. He’s loved you since you let him permanently sear his name into your skin, branding you as his forever.

Yes, he’s possessive, and yes, he’s selfish, and yes, he can be a fucking asshole, but he does love you. Really loves you. He can barely remember his life without you in it, everything blurry and out of focus before you entered the frame. You’re all he’s got, all he’s ever had, all he ever wants, and the thought of you being unhappy, the thought of you wanting to leave, kills him, drives a large stake straight through his chest and clean out the other side, spearing him.

And yet, he fails to put any of these thoughts, running a mile a minute through his mind, into words. Patient as ever, you wait, petting his hair, planting kisses scattered across his face, tracing patterns on his skin as a war rages inside his head.

“I’m—It’s fucking pathetic,”

“It isn’t pathetic to be human, Touya,” you whisper sadly, little thumbs swiping across both cheeks. “You don’t have to keep it together every minute of every day,” you remind him gently, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You’re allowed to be ‘weak’, too,”

He shakes his head, but refrains from arguing with you, because he can’t. Because he knows if he opens his mouth, if he tries to speak, he’ll start sobbing again. Sapphire tears away from your gaze, unable to hold your eyes anymore as his chin begins to quiver.

“I do really love you,” he whispers finally, head dropping, eyes squeezing shut against the prick of tears.

“I know you do, baby,” you say softly, fingers rubbing circles into his biceps, though he can hear the confusion laced in your voice.

“But do I—Do I des—”

He can’t. He can’t force those four simple little words out of his mouth, getting caught at the back of his throat, tangling into a giant ball that aches when he tries to swallow past it.

It’s starting again, that feeling from the kitchen, building in his torso, growing, stretching, higher and higher and higher until he can’t fucking breathe. A sharp gasp hitches painfully in his chest as he desperately tries to inhale, tries to suck an adequate amount of air into his lungs, coughing on the saliva pooling at the back of his throat.

“Do I—” the words escape his lips in a pitiful whine, voice cracking.

A sudden flash of blistering fury rips through his chest at his own cowardice. Disgust churns in his stomach, leaving a stinging bitterness lingering on his tongue, revolted at himself for getting so goddamn emotional over this, for letting Shouto’s words eat away at him, corrosive and parasitic as they take root in his brain, infecting his consciousness until it’s all he can fucking hear, think, see.

Tiny fingers find his face, hooking under his jaw and tilting it up, gently forcing him to look at you again. The pads of your fingertips dance along his skin, tracing along his jaw and then up his cheek to catch in the endless stream of tears.

You don’t say anything, because you don’t have to, tender little touches speaking volumes more than your words ever could, inspiring a bout of intense strength as he powers through the sentence, forcing the trembling words from his throat.

“Do I deserve you?”

And you’re so shocked by the question that your fingers halt, and his body stills, his breath stuttering in his throat, staring at you in an almost urgent manner, pleading with you to tell him the answer he’s so desperately seeking.

Salty water trickles over your thumbs, the sensation breaking you out of your reverie, response flowing from your mouth seamlessly, without a second thought.

“Of course you do,” your eyes search his face, studying his features slowly. “Where is this coming from?”

The question leaves your lips before you even know what you’re saying, but your voice is soft, kind, full of so much concern and affection as your fingers begin their ministrations again, tracing the ink decorating his cheeks.

He refuses to tell you, shakes his head as his lips press into a firm line, expression hardening. Blue fire ignites in his eyes, and you have your answer.

Shouto’s words from that first day in the washroom drift through your head, but you don’t press. Regardless of whether or not Touya had heard them on the twenty-first, it is fair to assume that Shouto must have said something along similar lines tonight, triggering this reaction.

Sighing, your expression softens, forehead falling forward to knock against his, hands still on either side of his face, keeping his gaze from escaping again as you speak.

“You—you’re sure?”

“Niichan, my niichan,” you murmur, pecking his lips in a chaste kiss. “That isn’t yours to decide, or Shouto’s to decide, or anyone’s to decide,” and your voice is so tender, filled with so much love as tiny fingers run through his hair, tension dissipating from his shoulders with each comb through. “It’s mine. And I’m telling you that you do deserve me,”

“Do I?” he chokes out brokenly, voice cracking and barely above a whisper. And the look on his face, azure eyes glazed with a thick shield of tears as they desperately search your face, chin trembling almost violently as he swallows a pitiful whine, pierces your heart; and you swear you can feel it shattering into a thousand little pieces, puncturing the surrounding organs and making your whole chest ache.

“Yes,” you whisper, tiny hands flexing on either side of his face as you grip him tighter, blinking rapidly to clear your own vision. “Yes,” you repeat, louder, stronger, fiercer, silencing whatever he was beginning to respond with by crushing your lips against his.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you’re murmuring between kisses, spit slicked lips sliding against his as he sobs into your mouth.

“I love you,” he mumbles against your lips, voice raspy with tears. “I love you, I love you,”

And, truly, you’re the only thing holding him together at this point—have been the only thing holding him together for a long time now. You’re the glue that keeps his life from falling apart, you’re the stitches that keep his very soul intact, sewing him back together each and every time he begins to unravel, keeping him complete, keeping him whole.

Fingernails dig into the skin of his cheek as you hold him in place, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and nibbling, relishing in the quiet, broken moan you pull from him. A little tongue laps at the salty tears staining his cheeks, licks along his jaw as his hands grip the meat of your ass, trying to pull you closer as he breathes out your name.

“I love you,” you whisper, words punctuated by kisses down the column of his neck. “So much,”

A whine gets stuck in his throat, head tilting to allow you more access to move as large hands paw at the hem of your dress, rucking it up around your waist. Something pokes you, prods you, pushes up into you through the thick, rough denim of his jeans, and you inhale sharply, instantly consumed by overwhelming need—the need to feel him, hot and pulsing and driving into you, the need to make him feel better, to make him forget, to remind him that you’re his, and he’s yours, the need to be claimed.

It hits your like a fucking freight train, burns through your veins and shoots straight to your core, sharp spikes of heat that have you huffing out his name.

“I need you,” the words are whimpered against inky skin as you grind desperately against his hard cock, clawing at his chest, his biceps, his belt. “Niichan, I need you,”

“Yeah, baby?” he pants into your mouth, hands kneading your nylon covered thighs as he presses his clothed cock against your core, forcing a mewl of his name from your throat.

“Yes,” you cry pathetically, and it’s almost too much, the scalding, throbbing heat collecting between your thighs, hips gyrating in quick little circles as you try to alleviate some of the tension coiling tightly in the pit of your stomach. “Yes, yes, need you t-to fuck me, to—” a sharp gasp cuts you off as he bites into your shoulder, growling darkly against your skin. “—To fill me up, to remind me who I belong to,”

Strong, lithe fingers tear into your thin tights, hooking into the holes they create and ripping the delicate material. Dark eyes flit down, rabidly scanning your clothed little cunt, white lace soaked and stuck to you, outlining your folds. Touya chuckles, delivering a superficial slap with the back of his hand before pushing your panties to the side.

Niichan, niichan, you’re whining out the honorific, fingers tangling in his sweater and tugging roughly as his digits caress your slit, urgently shaking your head.

His lips tug down. “Baby, you know I—”

“No!” you pout, eyebrows knitted together, Touya’s eyes flashing dangerously at being so rudely cut off. “I don’t want your fingers, they aren’t enough,” Because the need to be filled, to be stretched, to be owned is almost voracious now, desire clawing at the pit of your belly. “Mark me, claim me, breed me, I-I’m yours,” you’re wailing, cunt achingly empty, the pulsing in your clit nearly too much to take.

A snarl rumbles in his chest, large hand snaking around your bent leg, wedging between your thigh and calve and gripping the back of your knee, hitching the leg closest to the center console up in one swift movement and planting your foot on the console box, thighs stinging from the sudden stretch.

One of your hands latches onto the handle above the door while the other clutches his shoulder, nails digging into the muscles through the knit of his sweater while he fiddles with his belt, squirming a little and shoving his jeans down to his knees.

Not a second is wasted as the head of his cock nudges against your fluttering hole, and then he stills. He wants you to beg, needs to hear you beg, and so you do, high-pitched and whiny as your hips instinctually wiggle.

“Please, niichan, please! Want it, need it, need you,”

And then he’s shoving himself into you, a hiss slipping from between your teeth, familiar, welcomed tears springing into your eyes, a guttural groan catching in his throat.

It stretches, aches, stings so good, so right, so perfect as he bottoms out, pressed snugly against your cervix, and pauses for a moment, cock twitching inside of you, strong hands on your hips preventing them from rocking forward and forcing you to just feel him for a second, every inch of him, buried deep inside you. The sigh that falls from your lips is nothing short of dreamy, mumbling about feeling whole again, and he chuckles.

Yeah, that’s right, princess. Only niichan’s cock can fill you up like this.

His thrusts start gradual, fingers flexing on your hips as they dig into the sensitive flesh, forcing you to slide nearly all the way off his cock before pushing you back down, hips pressing up to meet yours, cockhead grinding against your cervix as he stuffs himself in your cunt, gaining a little more speed with each motion.

No one but niichan could ever make you feel like this.

The words are whimpered between fierce, messy kisses, between ravenous, devouring kisses, between the clacking of teeth and the slurping of tongues, glistening saliva, sticky and sweet and laced with the taste of blue fire and Marlboros dripping off your chin.

And he needs to hear it—needs to know that you belong to him and only him, needs to know that you want him and only him, needs to know that only he is deserving of you, worthy of you—so you tell him, in breathy little whines, that no, no one could ever make you feel this good; yes, niichan’s the only one that can fill you up this fully, this wholly, this rightly, eyes rolling back and sharp cries echoing through the car as he pounds into you, deep little grunts falling from his lips in time with each snap up of his hips.

“Tell niichan—ah, fuck—tell niichan how badly you need his cum,”

Senseless babbling flows freely from your lips the instant he asks for it, forever incapable of disobeying a direct order from him—please niichan, need your cum so bad, need to feel it in my belly, need to feel it in my brain, please, give it to me, give it to me, give it to me!

“Christ,” he chokes out, hips beginning to falter, muscles bulging and tensing as he forces you to keep bouncing on him, hard and fast and deep. “Cum with me, baby,” he nearly begs, voice more wrecked than you’ve ever heard it before, inspiring a whole flock of butterflies in your tummy. “Be a good girl and make a—make a mess all over niichan’s cock,”

And it’s the sense of desperateness, of urgency, of sheer neediness sown deep into his broken voice that has you spasming around him, that evokes an orgasm so intense it makes you choke on your own scream as it slashes through you, gurgling on spit and tears as violent tremors course through your body.

Hot, thick spurts of cum fill you, your name escaping his lips in a cracked whine, his hips continuing to lazily roll against yours as you milk him for every drop of cum he’s got, as you beg him for more, more, more.

Overwhelmed by emotion, you collapse against his heaving chest, hiccupping out pitiful little sobs between your harsh breathing, and he hushes you, fingers petting your sweaty hair as he murmurs against your scalp—shh, it’s alright, he’s here, he loves you, you’re his, and you did so well.

“Do you want to leave?” the question is uttered softly, after your breathing has calmed to tiny sniffles, voice so genuine it’s almost painful, curled up in his arms as your bare cunt presses against his pelvis, cum still leaking out of you. “Just say the word and we’ll go, baby,”

Swallowing thickly, he’s silent for a moment, considering. Patiently, you wait, nuzzling comfortingly against his neck and licking at the sweat pooled in the dip of his collarbone. When he speaks, his voice is low and rough, laced with a hint of disbelief.

“Really?”

You pull back to gaze at him.

“Yes, really,” you whisper, catching a tear with the pad of your thumb and placing a soft kiss against his cheek. “You are more important to me than anyone else in that damn cabin by far, and I don’t care if it upsets them—if you want to leave, if you need to leave, we’ll leave. Say the word, and I’ll drive back, pack our shit, and we’ll be gone. You don’t even need to get out of the fucking car,”

Shining sapphire eyes study your face intently, searching for any sign of hesitancy, finding nothing but sincerity.  

“I love you so much,” he laughs wetly, more glistening tears escaping his eyes with the motion. “So fucking much,”

Tingling warmth blossoms in your chest at his words, at his laugh, conjuring a watery smile of your own as you pepper his face with kisses, soft lips ghosting across his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids and forehead until he becomes too impatient, large hands cupping your jaw and pressing your wandering lips against his.

Giggles erupt from your throat, and he’s sure that’s what liquid sunshine sounds like, allows the noise to wash over him, to bathe him in your everlasting light, to warm him to his very core. A little tongue darts out to lick teasingly along the seam of his lips, evoking an involuntary smile of his own before his tongue escapes to meet yours, another precious squeal of laughter echoing through the car.

Yes, he thinks, as your laughter vibrates against him, arms tightening around your waist as he cradles you against his chest. This is what love feels like.

[songofsaraneth]

Ok now that I have time/space to breathe again, I wanted to do a writeup on the unusual reaction I had to the second Covid vaccine dose. I debated posting this, because I don't want to go against the "I was vaccinated and it's fine!" encouragement train. And I 1000% encourage EVERYONE to get vaccinated if possible. But I have not seen much documentation of the averse symptom I got, except in some case studies I specifically looked up so details below. Big TMI/gross warning however. 

Mostly I'm posting this because I had to do SO much self-advocating/arguing with the Dr at my urgent care clinic, and if you're not as read up on weird medical issues as I am, you might not be comfortable doing that. But IANAD, just describing my experience and what I read, which ended up being very long because it was awful and I have a lot to complain about I guess, sorry.

Basically: for me the vaccine triggered an inflammation response, which in itself is normal. The usual muscle aches/joint pain/slight fever. It also triggered an outbreak of ulcers in my soft tissues. Basically, a bunch of canker sores in my mouth/throat. I am already prone to getting these when I get sick or stressed out, so no biggie, annoying and painful but I could handle them. Canker sores are distinct from cold sores in that they form inside the mouth as crater spots, usually around the size of a pencil eraser (though can be bigger or smaller), and will develop a white film across the crater as they develop and start to heal.

An unfortunate fact I have learned: the mouth is not the only exposed “soft tissue” of the body. this group also includes genitals.

So 2 days after the vaccine I noticed a "burning sensation"/rawness downstairs, which turned into a sharp pain, especially when going to the bathroom. I obviously knew this was abnormal and because of what was happening in my mouth, had a pretty firm idea of what was happening, but was ready to brace myself through the healing process. However by day 5 I had 8 red, crater-like sores on the tissue of my vulva. Essentially they are open wounds, and urine is an acid, so you can imagine the hell that using the bathroom had become. Even just sitting hurt.

As someone healthcare-averse, even I knew this was untenable, and went to Urgent Care for the first time in my adult life. I told the NP what was going on, how they matched the canker sores (NOT cold sores) in my mouth in onset/form--and she immediately, without even looking, diagnosed me with herpes.

Lots of people have herpes or other STIs, and that's fine. I know I do not have any, and wanted to pursue treatment for what I was sure they were--Non-sexually acquired genital ulceration (NSGU). I had even found three case studies of COVID patients who had developed them. I had spent several harrowing hours on google images making sure that the sores I had did not match any STI I may have magically acquired during a year of social distancing. I even brought up multiple case studies, including a woman who had them as a Covid reaction in a neighboring state. Didn’t matter. She looked at them and went “Yikes! Herpes!” and prescribed me: 

1) an antiviral, which I said I did not think would do anything because the trigger for this was a vaccine not an illness. She said it was probably a herpes flare up already in my system. I reiterated that I have had similar sores in my mouth since childhood and that all my past doctors and dentists agreed it was not viral but something related to an immune response. She said the antivirals should clear them up in a few days.

2) a topical 5% lidocaine ointment, aka an oral grade numbing gel, which was essentially what I was after anyway.

I would have preferred a steroid course to the antiviral, but agreed to start taking them until she got the results of the bloodwork I needed to come in the next day for. I asked how many days after taking them I would expect to see a difference/if she would reevaluate treatment if they didn’t have an effect in a certain amount of time, and she said if they hadn’t cleared up by Monday then she’d look into other causes (spoiler, they did nothing in that 4 day span). to her credit, when she saw me pick up my bike helmet (because my car had been at the mechanic for a month by then), she was properly horrified that i was having to bike everywhere with this situation and printed off some coupons/called all the prescriptions into the grocery store pharmacy next door instead of the CVS my insurance likes a mile away.

So eventually I got home and took my pill & went to put on the ointment so I could use the bathroom for the first time in 8 hours. I’ll spare you the details but suffice to say I had an extremely, overwhelmingly painful 10 minutes of application. Like absolutely awful burning feeling. However once that faded, I was indeed actually numb, and so I figured it was worth it. Got my bloodwork done on Friday (biking there & home again). On Saturday, I thought that you know, maybe a prescription anesthetic shouldn’t be doing that or at least have some sort of warning? And read the details on the jar.

Good things about lidocaine: it is a powerful numbing agent and lasts pretty well for an hour or two.

Bad things about lidocaine: you cannot get oral grade lidocaine without added mint flavoring.

I happen to be EXTREMELY sensitive to mint. Like I still can’t handle breath mints or mouthwash, and used bubblegum flavored toothpaste until I was 14 and found a brand with half as much mint flavoring as is typical. Even if you’re not, mint has no business being anywhere near genital tissue. Even on an average person that could cause awful burning. to make a long saga shorter I had a very frustrating back-and-forth with urgent care involving many rerouted phone trees, visit in person, unhelpful receptionists, and attempts to find over-the-counter alternatives. All were fruitless so I just  suffered all weekend until the urgent care Nurse Practitioner called me back on Monday and was suitably apologetic/outraged about the mint thing, and looked up every OTC product that might work as a substitute, since she couldn’t find any prescription level without mint. On Tuesday she called back again having found this:

It’s 4%, so just below prescription strength, while not oral grade, it’s actually fine for soft tissues as long as not fully ingested/internally applied. And most importantly, ABSOLUTELY NO ADDED FLAVORINGS. there is also a spray version that comes in a bottle, which under no circumstances should you try because it uses alcohol as a propellant and I had a very bad 5 minutes after testing that one. But the cream one is fine and brings blessed numbness in around 5 minutes with only minimal contact pain--they are still open wounds after all. 

I use this for the next 7 days. By this point the sores have gotten worse and larger, and then started to heal and shrink again. Mouth canker sores go through a similar ~2 week process, so this is about what I expected.

Finally the results of my bloodwork came back, and I was negative for all STIs. The NP was dumbfounded and apologized, and agreed to look up more information/treatment options for cases like this in the future. I’m not surprised her reaction was to assume herpes as it IS very common, but I’m sure other women experience NSGU’s and receive improper treatment. If you look them up, they’re even mentioned as being predominantly a problem for “young or prepubescent women” which, reading between the lines--it’s not that these become less likely if you’re older or sexually active. Doctors just make assumptions and don’t always look past the easy answers.

So if you or someone you know ends up with these--from the Covid vaccine or as a complication of upper respiratory infections in general (as they ARE an immune response and can just Happen to you)--here is what works as treatment. If you can see a doctor you trust, still do that. But if they don’t listen or if for some reason you can’t seek treatment, here is the course of action I recommend: 

Pick up that over-the-counter Pain Relief+Lidocaine NON MINTY numbing cream ASAP. Sores go from “annoying” to “excruciating” in only 3 days, so it’s best to get in person or with rush shipping. Sit in front of a mirror and gently apply with a q-tip, and wait 5 minutes for the medicine to take effect.

Pat gently dry with toilet paper, don’t make wiping motions. If you don’t feel clean enough, pat more with a wet washcloth and rinse it out, or hope in the shoer for 5 min just to rinse.

There may be pus or reside from the ointment that doesn’t go away with just rinsing. Every 2 days I made a half-strength bath of epsom salts, NUMBED FULLY, and then took a 10 minute bath to fully cleanse the area. the salt will sting terribly if you wait any longer, so I recommend standing and rinsing after this time.

The vulva is more exposed to air than the mouth. this may cause the sores to crack/bleed as they dry out. to avoid this, after using the restroom and cleaning yourself, you can apply a thick coating of Aquaphor on top of the sores. It will need to be rinsed off before you apply more numbing cream however, so if that is too many steps I recommend just using the Aquaphor overnight.

You may think its ok to get up in the middle of the night to pee without the numbing cream bc you have to go really bad and just once will be fine but it is NOT you will REGRET IT.

Unfortunately if you have sores on both sides you may develop what is known as “kissing sores”, aka sores directly opposite each other that touch when the area is not spread open. this means that after an extended period of time (overnight), the sores will try to heal into each other and opening the area back up painfully rips the tissue apart. INStEAD of ripping them apart, take a washclosh, run it under warm water, and do a hot/warm compress on the area. this will loosen the sores back up and separate them painlessly.

This is not exclusive to people with a vulva, they can also happen on scrotal/anal tissue. However it does seem to much more frequently affect people with typical XX sex organs. 

If you develop these, PLEASE fill out an averse reaction form or your country’s equivalent. Also, I’m so sorry and if you need emotional support or have questions please feel free to get in touch.

Most likely, these will not happen to you--the vast majority of vaccinated people have not had this as a side effect. But it IS popping up more and more, and it is good to know about it in advance so you can be prepared to deal with and treat it without as much anxiety and all the hoops I had to jump through to get good care. Overall I’m still glad to be vaccinated, but if I had known this was a side effect, as someone already prone to canker sores I would have waited to vaccinate until my car was fixed a week later a the very least :|

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 6, Ch. 11

PART 6: THE YEAR WHEN EVERYTHING FALLS INTO PLACE Chapter 11 - See Anything You Like?

Nova

I woke up the next day with the biggest smile on my face. I don’t even know when I came back yesterday. I thought Charlie and I wouldn’t be able to leave each other to go to sleep. We didn’t return to the Ball as we knew our friends would be all over us and being embraced under that tree was something I wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

I looked around the room and felt relief as I saw Tulip’s bed empty. Of course, she slept somewhere with Jae. I put on my Weasley sweater and some comfy jeans and made my way to the Great Hall. I can't deny I was sad when I saw Charlie wasn't there. I couldn't wait until this evening, to have our first official date!

I was so filled with emotions from yesterday that I didn't feel like breakfast at all. I spotted my bubblegum-haired friend at the Hufflepuff Table. I sat down next to her only to find out she was sleeping. I was curious about her kiss with Barnaby but since Charlie and I want to keep things private I won't pressure her to tell me anything.

“Tonks?” I nudged her gently. “Are you awake?”

“Wotcher, Nova.” Her voice was rusty. I chuckled.

“Everything okay?” I put my hand on Tonks' back.

“Peachy.” She replied and opened one eye.

“Why are you not sleeping in your room?” I couldn't help but giggle at her. She was adorable. She was wearing a Slytherin jacket and her hair and makeup were still from last night. Wait...A SLYTHERIN JACKET?

“I believe Muggles call it the walk of shame.” She finally lifted her head.

I gasped. I knew what that meant but I thought she was only going to kiss Barnaby.

“Slytherins have a very green and wicked Common Room, did you know that?” She continued as if this was an everyday type of conversation.

“You...” I didn't even know what to say. We asked our Heads of House for permission to enter each other's dorms and here were Tulip and Tonks sneaking into Gryffindor and Slytherin's Common Rooms like it was nobody's business.

“He's a good kisser, Barnaby.” She continued. Apparently, she was awake enough to notice I was completely speechless.

“Did you...” I didn't know if I wanted to ask. I felt bad because I didn't want to share any details about my night but at this point, she brought it on herself. “You know...have sex?”

“That I did.” She replied and placed her head back on the table. “Not bad in bed, either.” She added. I was in pure shock. I knew Tonks wasn't into dating and she only went to the Ball with Barnaby because we made her to even though she smelled his scent in the Amortentia potion.

“I thought you didn't want a relationship?” I asked, bemused.

“I don't and turns out neither does he, we're a perfect match.” She looked at me, her head still laying down and she was beaming.

“Tonks, I am not going to lie, I have no idea what is happening.” I answered honestly. “Did you have a one-night stand or is this going somewhere?” I scratched my head, failing to understand the whole situation.

“We didn't have that much time to talk if you know what I mean?” She winked at me.

“Really?” I giggled. “And you're okay with this? I thought you had a crush on him?” I still didn't know if she was happy or sad about it.

“Absolutely! I told you I wouldn't do anything about it but when he invited me to his dorm I said yes. We talked in his room and then it just sort of happened.” She rose her head again. “I never thought he was such a passionate guy. But hey, more fun for me!” She gave me a thumbs up.

“So this is not just a one-time thing?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Giving that he already invited me back tonight, I would say no. What'd you reckon?” She asked with a serious face.

“I would say that you're definitely getting some tonight.” I laughed. “I'm sorry for asking this but wasn't this your first time?”

“Yeah. Not as painful as I thought it would be. He was gentle...” She grinned. “At first, if you know...”

“I know what you mean, no need for details!” I covered my eyes as if that was going to help me not to picture them together.

“Well, we have to hang out more often.” I was being honest. “I did not know you wanted a friends-with-benefits type of relationship.”

“Neither did I.” She admitted. “But it happened and it felt good, so why not.”

I just nodded. I guess she had a point. It was none of my business and good for her! If she was happy being in this kind of relationship, I was happy too.

“Then congratulations!” I said and hugged her. “If you're happy, I'm happy.”

“Thank you for not judging me.” She smiled at me.

“Why would I judge you?” I frowned.

“Yeah, you're right. You're not Penny.” She leaned on my shoulder. “It's easy to talk to you, Blackwood.” I grinned. That meant a lot to me. I might not spend a lot of time with Tonks alone but when I did, we always found it so easy to talk to each other.

“Can I ask you a favor?” She looked at me, still leaning on my shoulder. I nodded.

“Is there any chance that the conversation we just had, stays between us?” She asked.

“Not a problem. Your secret's safe with me.” I ruffled her messy hair.

“So, want to talk about you and Charlie or...?” She lifted her head and leaned on her hand, looking at me.

“If you mind, I rather wouldn't.” I tried keeping a straight face.

“Can I ask you just one question and you nod yes or no?” She asked, her face serious.

“Okay.” I said slowly. I was pretty sure I knew what she was going to ask me and I didn't know if I would be able to lie to her.

“Are you and Charlie together?” I liked how she asked casually, not making a big deal out of it. I nodded.

“Good.” She nodded once. “Want to keep it a secret for a while not to have all eyes on you and enjoy your transition from being friends to a couple?” I couldn't believe how understanding she was. I should talk to her alone more often. I nodded again. I couldn't stop the blood rushing to my cheeks as I relived the events by the Lake in my head.

“And you probably don't want to be together in public because of all of Charlie's brothers?” Was she there yesterday, when we had this conversation? “I imagine you would like to tell his family on your own accords.” I nodded again.

“Your secret's safe with me, Blackwood.” She grinned and pulled me into a hug. “You have no idea how happy I am for you two.” She whispered.

“Thank you, Tonks. This was by far the best conversation we ever had.” I smiled.

“We don't get to be alone that often, huh?” She gave it a thought.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” I giggled.

“Well, if it happens that you need some sneaking around with Charlie, owl me.” She winked and got up.

“Where are you going?” I turned around as she stood up and made her way out of the Hall.

“To sleep before Penny finds me. You should hide too, you have no idea how much she talked about you two last night.” She rolled her eyes.

“Thanks for the warning.” I smiled and got up.

We made our way toward the exit of the Great Hall and just as we were about to walk out I bumped into Charlie.

“Good morning.” He grabbed my waist to keep me steady and smiled at me. I could see last night rolling across his eyes.

He looked at Tonks who winked at us and he quickly let go of me.

“It's okay. She knows.” I grabbed his hand and took him to the Main Courtyard. I wanted to avoid Penny even more now, after Tonks' warning.

“What happened to not telling anyone?” He chuckled and pressed me against the wall. Before I could answer his lips were on mine and I forgot my name. He tasted like peppermint toothpaste.

“She can keep a secret and she offered to help us sneak around if needed be.” I said when we finally pulled apart.

“If you trust her, I do too.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “I don't care if you tell the girls, I just don't trust my brothers not to tell my entire family back home.” His voice was so soft and gentle.

“I know. Trust me, if your mum finds out so does mine.” I chuckled.

“Double the trouble.” We both laughed and then he kissed me again. I could have his lips on mine all day long and I wouldn't get enough of him.

“I have to reply to the Sanctuary and finish my Transfiguration essay.” He brushed the hair off my face. “Or at least try.” He chuckled.

“You should do that. I have to find a good hiding place. Tonks warned me that Penny has a full parchment of questions for me and I don't know how to avoid her.” I giggled.

“I think your room would be your best shot.” The way he was looking at me as if he wanted to memorize every single part of my face. It made my knees weak.

“Is our date still on?” His eyes sparkled.

“Hmm, let me see my schedule?” I joked and opened an imaginary schedule planner. He laughed.

“Never change.” He cupped my face with his hands and gently parted my lips with his tongue. How was he such an amazing kisser!

—

“Did you just come in?” Tulip came in the room just after me, a towel on her shoulder and a toothbrush in her hand.

“No, I was already down for breakfast with Tonks, sleepyhead.” I smiled.

“So, how was your night?” She asked, hanging her towel.

“It was nice.” I tried acting relaxed. I didn't want to talk about me and Charlie to anyone else. “How was yours?” I tried steering the conversation to her.

“It was interesting. Never thought I'll do it in a hot tub.” This was the price I had to pay being quiet about Charlie.

“How's that like?” I pretended I wanted to know the details, even though the images were already burning my eyes.

“Wet.” She chuckled and sat next to me by our beautiful window.

“Want to talk about it?” She put her hand on my knee.

“Not really.” I shook my head. I couldn't believe she didn't bombard me with questions. Was I wrong about my friends?

“No problem.” She smiled, understandingly. “I have nothing more to say to be honest.” She chuckled. “Oh, really.” I winked at her and we both started laughing.

I was getting nervous as it was 6 o'clock and Tulip was still in our room. I was hoping I wouldn't have to explain where I was going at 7.

“Want to grab some dinner or are you avoiding Penny?” She giggled.

“Not really that hungry and yes.” I answered honestly. I knew I would have to face Penny sooner or later and I knew it would be better sooner as the more I wait the worse it will get but I didn't want to tell her anything.

I was so happy Tulip and Tonks left me alone and I think Tulip knew something was going on but I was glad she didn't ask me about it.

“I'm going to go.” She put on her cardigan. “What should I tell Penny if I see her?”

“Tell her I got down with something. I don't want her to be angry.” I frowned. I hope this won't mess up our friendship.

“She has nothing to be angry about.” Tulip said as she was putting on her shoes. “She just wants you to be happy and likes to know...well...everything.” We laughed. “Don't worry, I'll keep her off you.” She winked and exited the room.

I waited for her to leave for good and then I jumped out of my bed. I had no idea what I was going to wear to my first date with Charlie and I only had 45 minutes to figure it out. I took a quick shower and brushed my teeth. I decided to wear my hair in a ponytail and I put on my favorite jeans. I was never a skirt type of a girl anyway. I decided to wear my favorite jumper that my mum got for me for my birthday last year and it was my favorite color too, navy blue.

I took a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror. I think I was cute enough! I ran down the stairs and through the Common Room.

When I got to the Seventh Floor, Charlie was already there, waiting for me. The biggest grin painted his face when he saw me. I liked that he went with casual attire too. His burgundy Weasley jumper and jeans.

“You look beautiful.” He pressed his lips on mine and wrapped his finger around my ponytail.

“Thank you.” I said, blushing like mad. “And you look very handsome.”

“So, how does this work?” He looked at the wall in front of us, trying to ignore my compliment that made the skin under his freckles turn scarlet.

“You close your eyes and ask for what you need.” I explained. “Want to do it or should I?”

“May I?” He asked gently and I nodded. I wanted to see how he imagined our first date.

He closed his eyes and after a few seconds, the door started to appear on the wall.

“Wicked.” He whispered, looking at it, amazed. He stepped closer and locked his eyes with mine. I nodded for him to open the door.

I was awestruck when I saw the room. Everything was made out of wood and it smelled like it too. There was a beautiful table with flowers on it. A small fireplace with a crackling fire and the walls looked like we were in a cottage. There were two stands with candles on them and a table in between with some food. I never thought he was such a romantic.

“Shall we?” He stretched his arm at me. I placed my hand in his and he took me inside.

“Char, this is...” I was looking around, my mouth open.

“Is it too casual? Were you hoping for something fancier?” I finally looked at him and he looked embarrassed, his hand scratching the back of his head.

“What are you talking about?” I scolded him. “This is the most beautiful place for a first date!” I was still in awe. I never really thought about how my first date would look like but I am sure Charlie's idea would beat my idea's arse.

He came closer to me, his cheeks bright red, and put his hands on my waist. I couldn't believe all those freckles on his face were finally mine.

“Want to eat something?” He kissed me softly.

“Something small. I have enough butterflies as it is.” I giggled.

“You too? What a coincidence, so do I.” He pulled out my chair for me. Could he be more perfect?

He extended his arm and I did the same so we held hands. He looked at my wrist.

“Is that the necklace I gave you?” He was flushed.

“You didn't notice it yesterday at the Ball?” I chuckled.

“I was too busy looking into your eyes.” He grinned. I know it was cheesy but I also know he was being honest.

“Andre told me to transfigure the necklace into a bracelet because he reckoned it doesn't go with my outfit and I never took it off since you got it for me so we made a compromise.” I explained.

“I didn't know you wear it all the time.” I think he just fell for me more because of what I just said. I couldn't distinguish his skin from his hair that's how red his cheeks were.

“That's because you only look in my eyes.” We both laughed.

“So, yesterday you said that you had a crush on me since our Third Year. When did you realize that?” I really wanted to know. I couldn't help but feel guilty because my feelings didn't last as long as his.

He told me that once he admitted to himself that he has a crush on me, he realized it happened the day when I befriended that Hippogriff. He told me that he stopped denying it when we were in the Forest with Bill and Barnaby. He admitted that Penny knew since they brewed that potion together for Tonks and it all started to make sense.

Penny was always so confident that Charlie likes me back and she always winked at me when Charlie popped into the conversation or when something awkward happened between us. She knew all this time and didn't tell me. She was a good friend for keeping his secret.

Then I told him that I felt something when we made up in the Forest. How I tried to deny my feelings because I didn't want to lose him as a friend and how I was sure he didn't like me back when he didn't ask me to the Ball. I was so relieved that we could laugh it off and just leave everything behind us. We were both shy and silly but it didn't matter. In the end, we agreed that we came together at the right time and it couldn't be more perfect.

We then moved our conversation to the armchair by the fire. Charlie sat down and I sat in his lap. The way he was looking at me, like I was the most important thing in the world, melted my whole being. I was the luckiest girl alive and I couldn't believe my mum was right since our First Year. How did she know?!

“You reckon it's getting late?” He pulled his soft lips away from mine.

“And we care because...?” I kissed his freckled nose.

“We're Prefects.” He chuckled.

“Andre will take care of it.” I swung my hand and made him laugh. He put his hand behind my head, pulled me towards him, and glued our lips together.

I don't think it's enough if I say that it was more than my dream date. I returned to my dormitory at 1 o'clock in the morning and as I woke up as tired as ever, I understood Tulip not wanting to get up for breakfast.

“Morning.” She beamed at me from her bed. The one time she didn't have to be in our room, she was.

“Good morning.” I answered, as normal as possible.

“So where were you until 1 in the morning?” I tried avoiding her gaze.

“Prefect's duty.” I answered quickly.

“I'm sure you did a great job.” She giggled.

“Want to go to breakfast with me?” I changed the topic.

“Sure!” She jumped off her bed and we were on our way.

“Where...were...you...yesterday?” Penny poked me in the shoulder the second I sat down next to her in the Great Hall. Charlie and Jae were sitting opposite us. It was hard not to go to Charlie and give him a kiss but we had to act as if there is nothing going on between us.

“Didn't Tulip tell you?” I cleared my throat. “I came down with something.”

“Sure you did.” She narrowed her eyes.

“It's true.” Tulip said, pouring milk over her cereal. “You should see her, she looked like a Vampire.”

“You magically got sick the day after the Ball?” She still didn't believe me.

“She wasn't feeling well at the Ball either. I took her to the Ravenclaw Tower when we exited the Great Hall.” Charlie went along with Tulip's lie.

“Wait, you're being serious?” Penny's face fell.

“Why would she lie about it, Haywood? Give her a break.” Tonks rolled her eyes.

“Oh, I thought...” I can't believe she bought it.

“What?” I asked casually, trying hard to keep my eyes on hers and not look at Charlie. “You know...” She quickly glanced at him and back to me.

“Penny, I told you. Was not the best night for me.” I sighed and took the piece of bacon Tonks left on her plate.

“But-” She mumbled but then finally let it go when Tonks rolled her eyes at her again.

I couldn't believe we would get away with this. I know she wanted to ask me 100 questions but couldn't because Charlie was right there and I know I would have to answer them sooner or later but now I have an excuse that nothing happened between us at the Ball.

—

It didn't take long for that moment to come as Penny decided not to pay any attention in Herbology.

“So, tell me what really happened.” She turned to me the second Sprout finished her introduction.

“I told you nothing happened. We danced and then he took me to my Common Room.” I whispered, rather annoyed. I wish she would let this go as Tulip and Tonks did. I didn't even have to tell them and I know they both know. If she was as casual about it she would know that we are together.

“So he didn't say anything and neither did you?” She sounded so disappointed that I felt guilty not telling her but I couldn't risk it.

“No, and I want to keep it that way.” I hissed at her.

“Why?” She frowned. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Because when we were dancing I realized that if we ever become something more, I will lose my best friend forever. And I can't do that. It wouldn't work out anyway after he leaves for Romania.” Penny looked like I just crushed her dreams. It broke my heart but I knew she would tease us and talk about it all the time and we would never have a private moment again.

It wasn't fair to her because both Tulip and Tonks knew about us but so far they kept my secret and I was grateful for that. As soon as Penny drops her obsession we can go back to normal and Charlie and I can sneak around and hopefully have more amazing dates like the one we had yesterday.

“Pen, drop it. It's Nova's decision what she wants to do no matter how much we think they are perfect for each other.” Tonks scolded her.

“Alright.” She scoffed. “I just don't want you to regret anything.” She frowned at me but her expression quickly softened. “You do know we just want you to be happy?” She grabbed my hands.

“I know, Pen. But I am content with my decision.” I hugged her and I could hear her sobbing.

“Okay.” She whispered. “I will let it go.” Our eyes met for a second and she blinked her tears away.

I hated that I had to do this to her. I knew she just wanted us to be together as it was so obvious we fancied each other but we couldn't risk it. I knew she would tell Andre even if I asked her not to and somehow let it slip or want us to hold hands and we couldn't risk our families to find out. I knew I did the right thing and she will find out soon enough.

—

Tulip's wish to take the Apparation test finally came true and she did it, first try. Charlie retook the test and he passed with flying colors this time. Gryffindor became the Quidditch House Champion for the fourth year in a row and it was the only time I could stare at Charlie, following his every move without Penny narrowing her eyes and thinking what is happening between us.

Despite promising me that she will let it go, she didn't. She kept asking me about the Ball and when I will tell him and kept reminding me that I am making the biggest mistake of my life. Tonks and Tulip were losing it with her and kept telling her to stop but she never did. She only confirmed that not telling her was the right decision.

I still felt bad but if Tonks and Tulip don't ask questions, why can't she do the same. It would be so much easier if she just let it go.

—

Exams were fast approaching and this was the first year that I actually worried. Penny tried to the best of her ability to make us notes but with the Ball and everything that happened this year, even she wasn't prepared.

I was leaning on my hand, staring at my boyfriend. It was one of the rare occasions that none of our friends were in the Library during the exams. Jae, Tonks, and Tulip were in the Kitchens as usual and Andre and Penny were probably in the Potions Classroom. Charlie was going through my Transfiguration notes and I couldn't take my eyes off him. He was so extremely handsome when he was focused. “See anything you like?” He took his eyes off the notes and bestowed me with one of those smiles that just melted my whole being. I looked around to see if anyone could see us and I stole a little kiss. “All the time, every day.” I answered. I couldn't believe I was dating Charlie. A month ago I was beating my head over the fact that we are best friends and I can't have these feelings for him and now I am falling for him so fast that I don't have the time to spell Quidditch! He went back to his notes, I couldn't understand how he could focus at all. The only time I could study this year was when he wasn't around and that wasn't very often so I just kind of gave in to the fact that I'll fail my Sixth Year.

Did I care? No.

Did a couple of hardcore Ravenclaws just faint by me thinking I don't care about exams? Yes.

Am I falling in love with Charlie Weasley? Absolutely.

My staring session went from his face to his arm. He had a white t-shirt on and even though I knew he had freckles on his arms as well I never paid that much attention to them. I was a sucker for his freckles! I tilted my head to the left like Pip does when he is looking at my drawings and started counting the freckles on his nicely muscular arm. I really was blind not to notice his figure. He always said he was short but he was just the right height for me to bury my head between his neck and shoulder. He was nicely built. Very sexy and defined back and muscular arms but just enough to fill the sleeve of his shirt, not too much. And even though we have only been dating for a month I couldn't help but imagine what hides under that shirt of his. Does he have freckles on his chest as well? “What did you discover this time?” He chuckled. He was pretty used to me staring at him and seeing all the little details that I have been blind about before and I know it not only didn't bother him but he enjoyed it as well. “Just counting your freckles.” I poked him with my finger a couple of times so it seemed I was pressing on different freckles. He let out a silent laugh. “That's going to take a while, love.” I felt my cheeks turning red. It happened every time he used that nickname and it was growing on me. “I know you're self-conscious about your freckles but I adore every...single...one...of...them.” I poked him as I said every word slowly. “Want me to give you some of them?” His smile was killing me. “No! Then I would stare at myself and not at you and we don't want that, do we?” I chuckled. “Oh, no. We want your eyes on me.” He cupped my face and parted my lips with his tongue. He was such a good kisser! It wasn't a quick kiss and I have noticed that we are sometimes not even trying to hide anymore. But who cares if we get caught with lips as soft as his. “You know, my mum always said that freckles are cute and I know she only said it because she knew how much I disliked them but you are simply obsessed with them.” He winked at me and sent shivers down my spine. I never imagined that this is how it feels being with someone you really like. “Only with yours, now go back to studying and let me count in peace!” He let out a suppressed laugh so Madam Pince wouldn't hear him and turned his head to the notes. I turned my attention to the freckles on his lower arm. I poked at them with my fingers and even though he looked like he was still focused, studying, I knew I was distracting him and I couldn't help to hope he would give up and we would sneak into the Forbidden Forest to snog. Our first date was absolutely one of my favorite moments we shared so far but we still found it easier to sneak into the Forest. We know we're alone in there and we could just be us. I started gently brushing my fingers against his lower arm. With one hand still supporting my head. I was completely lost in my thoughts. “Can you stop that?” He said gently. I lifted my head as he disturbed me from my daydreaming. “Is it tickling you?” I teased and continued doing it. “No.” He said smiling and pretending to move his arm away but I knew he wasn't really trying. “Then what is it?” I leaned back on my arm, staring at his face, waiting for his response. “Nothing.” He said so quietly that I barely caught the response. “Char...” I knew that face. He was shy to tell me something! “Why don't you like it?” “I like it a bit too much.” He turned to me, and there was something else in his eyes. “It's turning me on.” He winked at me, his eyes full of passion. I stiffened and bit my lip. “And that...” He brushed his finger over my lip. “Turns me on even more, so have mercy on me will you, love?” He kissed my forehead and focused back on the notes. I always got nervous when we mentioned sex. It's going to be the first time for both of us and I know it is going to be beautiful but whenever these moments happened we knew we weren't ready yet, no matter how curious we were. We were best friends for so long and even though everything we did felt so

natural so far, we both said we want to take it slow. However, I already made a mental note that that turns him on. “Alright, alright.” I sighed and leaned my head on his shoulder to see the notes too but he started putting them together and into my bag. “What are you doing?” I lifted my head. “Well, I have been studying for two hours, to the best of my ability.” His face smug. “You, however, have been learning a subject that won't do you any good on the exams.” I giggled. “So how about we go to the Forest so that I can catch up on the lesson as well?” He winked and kissed me so passionately that I thought I was going to melt in the middle of the Library.

—

As we were almost over with our exams and I have to say I didn't do all that bad, Charlie and I discussed what we are going to do this Summer.

Tonks got an internship because her mother knows someone in the Auror Department and she was over the roof about it. Penny was taking her Muggle Vacation as always, except that this year, Andre was joining them.

Tulip was spending half of her Summer with Jae's family and half working in her mum's shop. She wasn't keen about the latter but her mum wouldn't let her go to Jae's otherwise.

I wrote to my mum and she told me she won't have the time for us to take our second Muggle vacation as we planned. But it didn't bother me as it meant I would be able to spend more time with Charlie at the Burrow until he leaves for Romania. He owled his mum if I could stay with them even when he's gone and we weren't really that surprised when Molly replied with an excited yes.

I was going to miss him in July. When we were just friends I already didn't like spending a Summer without him but now it was going to be even harder. However, I was excited to become one of the Weasleys and spend more time with Ron and Ginny. I liked all of Charlie's siblings but those two just melted my heart. Perhaps I would even be a little daring and pull a prank with Fred and George.

We also knew we would have to be careful, with a full house of his family members we would have to be very sneaky for them not to see us. We weren't ready to tell them yet. We couldn't even tell our friends and we didn't want any family to get involved.

We enjoyed our first month in peace so much that we weren't really in a hurry so I don't know when we would tell them. What I did know was that I was completely and without a single doubt falling in love with my best friend and for the first time, I didn't have to resist it, because I knew he felt the same way.

END OF PART 6

[spookysanta]

this kid. (g.d.)

Summary: Grayson and GiGi spend quality time while he’s in recovery.

WARNINGS: fluff

he’s so swollen :( anyway i wrote this in an hour.

UNEDITED

****

"Daddy," whispered Giavanna on Sunday afternoon, desperately trying to reach her little arms to Grayson's body on the bed to pat him awake. "wake up."

"Gia, leave Daddy alone, okay? His head hurts." (Y/N) pulled the toddler from the bed by her tiny hand; and, for the record, GiGi does not like not being able to snuggle with her daddy in the morning. More than she despises frogs and squirrels, which is a lot.

She started to fuss. "Mama, want Daddy!" She whined.

"I know, baby. But you have to—"

"Put her on the bed." Grayson mumbled in pain as he tried to sleep. "Just let her lay down."

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm." He nodded slowly, still not entirely relieved of the pain his septoplasty brought; he has to admit, though—he knows the pain could be so much worse without the drugs he'd been numbed on for the past three days. "Just let her lay down. She'll behave, won't you bun?"

"Yesh. I be good."

"Good." He held his arms out to take the little girl and (Y/N) was briefly mortified that his strength wouldn't be up to par because he'd been so weak recently. But let's be honest here: it's Grayson Dolan. He laid her body next to his on the bed and she snuggled up to him with her cheek on his collarbone. "You have to be quiet, cookie, okay?"

"Kay." She looked at (Y/N), who was currently looking at the two loves of her life in awe. There’s nothing in this world that could’ve prepared the two of them for this beautiful little girl, but she gives the utmost gratitude to the Big Man upstairs for making their family come to life. “Mama, lay down.”

“I can’t baby, I have to get Daddy’s meddies.”

She whined again, causing Grayson to sternly tap her on the bum. “Shh.” He instructed. She attempted to sit up and protest his swat but he laid her head back down on his chest where she was before.

“Sorry, Daddy.” The baby muttered. “Mama,” she started again in the best whisper she could muster. “Mama, come lay down!”

“I will, later, alright? Spend time with Daddy; I’m sure you’ll help him feel better.” (Y/N) left the room after that to get Grayson’s “meddies” (as GiGi so affectionately calls it), keeping the door slightly ajar just in case her clumsy husband or her even clumsier child had an accident.

GiGi’s palm rested on Grayson’s left pec, feeling the slow rumble of his heartbeat. “Daddy,” she whispered, moving her hand in different places to see if his heartbeat resounded in the rest of his body; and to her surprise, it did. “you’re thumpin’.”

“Hm?” He had to make sure he heard his child correctly—who he was almost certain is completely delusional.

“You. You thump. Like.. bump bump. Bump bump.”

“Where?” His eyes halfway opened in intrigue.

She gently patted the skin where her hand was, “Here.”

He chuckled, groaning inwardly at the pain. “That’s where my heart is, bubba.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” He poked a finger at her chest in the same spot. “Yours is right there, too.”

She hummed. “Mama has one?”

“Yes. She has one, Uncle E has one, Grandma has one. Everyone in the world has one.”

“And “aminals”?”

“Yeah. Animals have hearts, too.”

“Even Giz?”

“Mhm.” This time he couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh even though he knows he’d regret it. For some reason unbeknownst to the Dolans, their bird, Gizmo, cannot stand GiGi. They can’t seem to figure out the source of the issue, but the child and the parakeet never can cross paths. “Even Gizmo has a heart.”

“Hmph.” She didn’t like that answer.

He fought the urge to laugh again, and that had to have been among the most difficult things he’d ever done, because God, was this kid funny.

A few moments passed before he felt her shuffling in his arms, and eventually, felt her breath—which smelled like bubblegum toothpaste—on his face. “Yes, cookie?” He asked her, not even opening his eyes to see if she was staring at his nose, because she was and that’d been all she’d done since he’d gotten out of surgery. “Can I help you?”

“Your nose is big, Daddy.”

“Thank you.” She poked it with her fingertip. He swatted her hand away, “Don’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because it hurts.”

“But Daddy,” she whined. “wanna touch.”

“Why do you want to?”

“Funny-lookin’.” She giggled to herself. “You look funny.”

“I look funny, baby?”

“Yeah.”

He was silently praying it was almost time for her nap because not only was she starting to get whiny (and a bit pesky, goven his condition), but she was also persistent; and she won’t quit asking until she got to do what she wanted or was scolded—whichever came first. But it was hard to scold her, especially with the twins’ mom, Lisa, around, because in Grandma’s eyes, the baby could do no wrong. And, in true Grandma fashion, she made sure to get her only grandbaby what she wanted even if it was on the sly.

A snort was heard from the entryway of the bedroom. “Hi, Mama.”

“Hi, baby.” (Y/N) replied, entering the room to set Grayson’s medication on the nightstand with a bottle of water and a sandwich to eat. “Here, G.”

He sat her up next to him, then propped himself up in the bed, grabbing the medication and water. “Thanks, babe.” He took the pills, then took the plate of food and set it in his lap.

“Mine?” GiGi asked, pointing to his sandwich that she knew wasn’t hers.

“No.” Grayson grunted as he took a bite.

“Bite?”

“No no, baby,” (Y/N) chided, shaking her head. “it has tomatoes.”

“GiGi no “yike” dat.” She scrunched her face in the exact way that her daddy does it.

Oh, another thing she despises—tomatoes. There have been way too many instances where GiGi thought she could handle tomato soup and it being upchucked onto the hardwood floor.

Ugh. Grayson and (Y/N) prefer to not thing of those days.

But out of the corner of (Y/N)’s eye, she could see him picking the tomatoes off one of the halves of his sandwich. This is a perfect example of how she always gets what she wants.

She ate twenty minutes ago, but she really wanted that sandwich because Daddy had the same one and she has to be like him.

“Brielle.” He chanted her middle name, holding half the sandwich in front of her. “Here. No tomatoes.”

She took it, taking a bite. “Tanks, Daddy.” She replied with her mouth full of meat and lettuce. “Love you.”

“You’re welcome, bug. I love you, too.”

God, this kid.

Or should (Y/N) say, these kids.

[apollo-writes-random-shit]

omg!! please please please do gasoline with race!!

Ahhhhhh! Sorry, this took so long! I wrote this like three or four times and I’m still not 100% happy with it lol. I did some research and it turns out the song is actually about Halsey’s struggles with mental health while being in the spotlight so I used that but don’t worry! This has a happy ending!

Song requests

AO3 copy

Are you insane like me?

He was pretty sure every kid at some point had wanted to be famous and here he was. Gone from causal dancing to acting and singing, all thanks to a small show that had been secretly visited by a talent scout. Multiple doors had opened for the young teen but with the fame came extreme expectations and with those expectations came extreme stress. 

Everything seemed to be dictated by his manager, one William Snyder. As grateful as he was for the jobs Snyder had landed him, he was driving Race insane. Every single little thing was scrutinised, from the things he ate and drank, to even his hairstyle when he went out. His smile had to be perfect every time to 'keep up his image' but it got tired having to look perfect all the time. 

Don't get him wrong, he adored his fans but at the same time, he wished he could go out without being stopped every five minutes for photos and videos, being made to repeat lines constantly. 

Been in pain like me?

Every day left him exhausted, even if he had only been shopping. Everything had to be perfect to make sure he avoided any bad publicity. He was still young so why ruin his career so early? 

Sighing, Race stared at his schedule. Countless practises for both dances and an upcoming audition filled every day, leaving him with almost no time for himself. He had only a few hours after evening practice and he knew he'd spend most of that sleeping. 

He could already feel the pain that would come with everything. Today's practise had already wiped him out, body flowing with pain. After being scouted, Race had discovered muscles he didn't know existed thanks to the pain that came with the job. 

However, he could deal with the physical pain but the mental pain? Not so much. He knew the others were getting worried about him but it didn't stop him from following all of Snyder's strict rules...Even if it caused him to throw up some mornings and night before practice. 

Bought a hundred dollar bottle of champagne like me? Just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me?

Well, he followed most of the rules but Race liked to have fun, even if that meant drinking some nights, whether it be cheap beer or expensive champagne, he'd take it, only to pour whatever remained down the drain the next morning in shame before scrubbing his teeth to get rid of any hint of the alcohol that was forbidden.

That's what he was currently doing, letting the taste of his toothpaste take over the taste of morning breath and expensive champagne. Rising the toothbrush, he chuckled softly as he licked his lips, savouring the artifical taste of bubblegum. Despite the event happening over a week ago, Race could still see Jack's face when he walked out of the bathroom carrying it. He knew he wasn't a kid but that wouldn't stop him from buying the 'kiddie' toothpaste, no matter how 'disappointed' it made his older brother. 

Would you use your water bill to dry the stain like me?

Walking out to the kitchen, he noticed the damp paper resting on the table, causing him to shake his head. He had spilt a little of his drink on the table and mopped it up with the closest thing which appeared to be the bill he opened last night. 

Not that it mattered, he could still read it which meant he'd be able to know who to pay. That and he had read it last night and despite getting drunk, his sharp mind still remembered every word. 

He would concern himself with that later, instead focusing on making his breakfast smoothie before rushing out that door, hoodie pulled over his head to hide his face in the short run down his driveway. Sure, no one was around but that didn't mean he wasn't paranoid about being spotted. He already had to deal with stalkers and so far, none of them had found his house and he'd like to keep it that way thank you very much. 

Softly singing along to the radio, he grinned to himself as set off, heading towards the dance studio. Sure, Snyder was going to be there to see his progress which meant he'd have to work harder. At least Romeo and Tommy always gave him good criticism instead of berating him when they taught him a new move. Even in Tommy Boy would jokingly kick his feet into the right position while telling him to keep up. Out of everyone he had been taught by, the two were his favourite. Tommy would teach him the dances while Romeo took care of the acting and like almost everyone, they thought Race should get rid of the man. 

Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me?

Shaking the thought out of his head, he pulled into the car park, flipping his hood back up before speedwalking inside. 

It was only when he got inside the studio that he relaxed, something that always happened. Sure, most of the time sometimes he'd walk out and there would be a small crowd outside the building which he found awkward considering he was still all sweaty and smelly. There was only so much a towel and deodorant could do until he had access to a shower. Sure, the dance studio had showers but honestly, Race didn't like them. He also felt awkward showering in a building where his fans might find a way to sneak in. He might love his body but he didn't feel like having nudes of him spread across the internet where anyone could access it.

"Damn, look who finally showed up."

"I'm late by one minute Tommy Boy. Traffic was horrible." 

"Whatever, warm-up you dork." The Australian chuckled, scrolling through the playlist, trying to decide which routine to have his friend start with. Subtly, he clenched his jaw as another presence filled the room. He really didn't like when Snyder was in the studio but unfortunately, he had no say. He knew the man liked to see that his client was actually making progress. Sure, some of his dancers would have their manager show up occasionally but Snyder came twice a month to take notes on Race before taking the teen to the side to lecture him, almost like he was trying to undermine everything he had been taught. He really hated him in all honestly but hey. He couldn't fire him, only Race could and considering the number of gigs Snyder had landed him, he doubted he'd be let go anytime soon. 

Race shook out his limbs after stretching, pretending that he didn't sense the tension between his manager and instructor. If he ignored them, he could actually focus properly. He had learnt during the first few sessions that Snyder had sat in, that if he let the tension distract him, he'd slip up and get a long lecture about how he had to 'focus more if he wanted to nail a role'. So, he just pretended to be alone, letting the music flow through him. As cheesy as it sounded, Race liked to pretend that he was one with the sound. The noise was his dance partner, the leader of the pair. He followed its gentle coaxing willingly, allowing it to control every step.

It gave him a high that nothing could replicate, no matter how hard he had tried in the past. Dancing gave him something that he couldn't explain. Something that couldn't be described. He was addicted to it.

He allowed himself to come to a stop, his partner leaving him with a gentle caress and smile. Race grinned at himself in the mirror, slowly coming down from his high, allowing himself to relax, calmly walking over to his duffle bag, yanking his towel out before wiping his face off. As much as he loved dancing, he didn't like the sweat that came with it. 

Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?

Tommy's compliments were cut off by the clearing of someone's throat and the two turned to look at Snyder who was lounging in a chair in the corner. "Your turns were sloppy Higgins. You fell out of a few turns, your feet weren't pointed during one of your jumps and your arms looked strange. You need to work on those."

"With all due respect sir, I believe he did quite well."

"Clearly you weren't paying close enough attention to your student Manchester. We all know he can do better. If he nails this video, even more doors will open for him and surely you want that for him."

"I do but."

"Then you'll allow me to critique my client. I want what's best for him after all." 

Race sighed. "I'll work harder. It's okay." Sure, he knew he was overworked as it was, but he could always try harder. There was always room for improvement after all.

Tommy just shook his head, knowing what Snyder wanted was a fat paycheck. Race wanted to please everyone and that included Snyder, even if the man pushed him past the point of breaking. Once discovering that Race had an empty basement, Snyder had pushed him into turning it into a mini studio for extra practice and would often visit to watch and offer more 'corrections' when really, he spent most of the time on his phone, only sparing glances up at the mirrors, pushing the teen to almost the point of collapse before lecturing him at the way he had become so wobbly. He didn't care that the boy was tearing himself apart in hopes of earning the praise he had been craving all his life. Race lived to entertain people and so far, he had failed to fully impress Snyder. 

Do the people whisper 'bout you on the train like me?

Buttons sighed as he listened to the faint sound of music, vibrating through the wooden floor. He was there to do final adjustments to Race's costume for the video tomorrow and wasn't surprised that he'd be found in the makeshift studio. Whispers floated around not only Race's friends but some of Buttons' friends in the clothing industry. Race seemed ready to fall apart and it was a waste of talent. He was being pushed too far and from Buttons had learnt, had recently been pushed into modelling as well, taking up even more of his time, leaving him more exhausted than normal. 

Saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me? And all the people say...

Shaking his head, Buttons headed down steps, rapping on the door to inform the other of his presence, watching as he stumbled slightly. Race had been sucked into the whirlwind of fame, dragged into an uncaring industry, one deadset on farming out copies and copies, ones that would give them the cash they craved. 

It destroyed every member they took in, ruining their minds and bodies until they were dumped, left to eventually fade away, replaced with a newer shiny version. As famous as someone was, it was surprisingly hard to be remembered. Making something that everyone remembered for years to come might be somewhat easy, but having your name in everyone's mind for years? That was much harder. 

Fame was a dream for a lot of people but that dream would turn into a nightmare quickly. 

You can't wake up, this is not a dream, you're part of a machine, you are not a human being.

Buttons loved seeing his work in videos but looking at the way his crafts looked on Race's skinny shaking body made him feel sick.

"Really. You need to take better care of yourself."

"Gotta look my best Buttons." Race just grinned, brushing off the concerns like normal.

"Tony seriously. Everyone's telling you the same thing. You need to eat more." The tailor shook his head, scanning the other's body to spot anything off with it. "You always look ready to collapse and you're shaking!"

"Buttons...I'm just following what's set out for me."

"Don't you think it's going a bit far?"

"Nah. It's fine. After all, it could be worse." Race just shrugged, holding his arms up when prompted. 

With your face all made up, living on a screen.

While talking to Buttons was always fun, Race was relieved to see him leave. Whenever he spoke to someone alone, they always told him to drop his manager. That he looked like he was five seconds away from being rushed to the nearest hospital. 

It didn't help that Snyder had become stricter later, criticizing his body and form more than normal, not caring that he was breaking his spirit. He was one of many, easily replaceable in the mind of the industry, something that Snyder liked to remind his client of constantly, claiming that it was 'in his best interest that he followed everything to the letter', forcing him to practise harder whenever he strayed from the harsh guidelines he set out.

Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline.

Requesting time off just brought another lecture. Hell, Race had to beg and fight to be allowed to take his birthday off and out of everything the man had done, that's what pissed Race's friends and family off the most. Jack had been close to demanding the man's address or phone number, only for Davey to stop him. It was no secret that Jack and Snyder had bad blood, disagreeing over what was best for the dancer/actor. Jack had known him all of his life while Snyder had only known him for roughly two years. 

Race hated the relationship between his manager and older brother but did his best to never let it trouble him. He desired to be on his A-game at all times after all and any form of tension would throw him off, only causing him to work harder than any other day. Snyder constantly likened him to every other young celebrity out there, reminding him all the time that he was replaceable, that he had to work harder if he wanted to keep up with the industry. That he was...Already stumbling behind. 

I think there's a flaw in my code.

The man acted like Race wasn't trying at all...That all the hours he put in meant nothing. That Race was acting like he 'didn't care about his job'. Like he was...Broken in some way and that strict behaviour just increased when he had handed him a slip of paper given to him by a professional. A diagnosis for depression, anxiety and bipolar disorder. He hadn't been super happy to find out that his client was mentally ill and that the paperwork even pointed out that he was overworked and just pushed him harder. 

Voices pushed at him from both sides. Drop him some said. He's working you too hard others chimed in. You need to work harder if you want to succeed in the industry kid one kept saying and for some reason, he kept listening to the single voice, despite the fact he knew he wasn't meant to. He needed to drop him and he would, after this music video and movie audition though.

Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold.

Race sighed, shaking his head. Focus Higgins. In a month, you can find someone new. Darcy, Bill and Kath can find you a new one. He stretched, smiling at himself in a mirror. He'd be okay, he could last a month. 

He pretended Snyder's not so subtle jabs at his diagnosis. The man hadn't been pleased when he found out about Race's ADHD, clearly 'trying' to hide the way he felt about the whole thing. That he didn't think Race was 'unstable'. That he was 'broken'.

Are you deranged like me? Are you strange like me? Lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?

He growled in annoyance when he fell out of a turn again, glad he was alone. It wasn't his fault he was so stressed! He was being pulled at every end, each person claiming they just wanted the both for him. With his mental health 'issues' dumped on top of that, Race wanted to scream and tear his hair out. He hated this. Hated the worried looks from his friends and family. Hated the harsh tone from Snyder used when he was giving him 'constructive' criticism. 

He wasn't at fault here! He was just trying hard so why did it seem like everyone was trying to pull him to their side? Sure, what he was doing wasn't the healthiest but he had to work hard to keep up with the fast pace workforce. Sure, he could stand to gain a few pounds but he could always do that later. 

Do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me? Pointing fingers 'cause you'll never take the blame like me?

"I'm just worried Race..."

"I know Jack. I know you hate Snyder, that he's an asshole, that you think he's ruining my life. But, without him, I wouldn't have gotten so many gigs."

"Tony, please. You need to drop him. You don't look healthy, you're never able to go out anymore, you're being worked to the bone." Jack frowned as he looked at his brother. "I get that you love your job but you need to take time for yourself as well."

"Look. I'm already planning to drop him after this audition...It's just a month Jack. Please. Give me that and I'll drop him."

"Promise? I'm sick of his bullshit Tony..."

"I promise."

And all the people say, you can't wake up, this is not a dream.

"Again." 

Race nodded, restarting the music before throwing himself into the dance again.

"You're distracted, Higgins."

"Sorry, sir. Just got a lot on my mind lately..." 

"You need to focus. If you don't you'll fall behind and fail. Restart."

You're part of a machine, you are not a human being. With your face all made up, living on a screen.

Race honestly wasn't sure if Snyder even knew what he was talking about when it came to his dancing but still, he took his words to heart, letting them crash through his weak walls again as he started the dance yet again, letting the music wrap itself around him, allowing it to bring him both a familiar rush and familiar comfort. 

The comfort that came with the music was his favourite kind of comfort. He never had to seak it out. Never had to send a text or make a call. All he had to do was press a button and it was there, ready to hug him and bring him a calm distraction from whatever was bothering him, sometimes wiping away any tears that would run down his cheeks, drawing a watery smile from him.

Low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline.

"What the fuck do you mean you're firing me? I'm the one who got you this damn role! You would be a nobody without me Higgins and you know that!" 

Race looked at the man's angry face. "Leave my house, Snyder. We're done here. While I am thankful for the work you have done, I need to focus on what I feel is right for me and I believe what is right is us parting ways."

"You're making a big mistake Higgins. I can ruin your damn life! I got you that role and I can fucking take it away from you! You'll regret this! I'll fucking leak your damn address!" 

I think there's a flaw in my code.

"You can not ruin my life, Snyder. You even try and I'll make sure everyone knows what you've been doing. I'll let everyone know how hard you've pushed me. How you've forced me to dance right after throwing up. Believe me, Snyder. I can and will let them know. I've dealt with this for too long."

These voices won't leave me alone.

"You've let those people poison you! They know nothing!"

"Romeo and Tommy have been working in this industry for years. Longer than you have and I trust their judgement."

"I'll get their places shut down!"

"Keep talking Snyder...You're just digging yourself a bigger hole."

"The fuck are you talking about?"

Race smirked, holding up his phone. "I've looked up the laws. We have a one-party consent law here meaning I can record this conversation without your permission and that's what I have done. I recommend you leave now."

Snyder scoffed, storming out. "You'll regret this!"

"And you'll regret being so strict! Goodbye William~" 

Well, my heart is gold and my hands are cold.

[hopeshoodie]

hey i asked if you had any talia hcs a while ago but tumblr was eating all my asks around that time so idk if you did get it just ignore this i don’t mean to be pushy

Oh work! U rite, I didn’t see that ask (because I love any opportunity to talk about my lovely wife and would immediately jump on that one).

She’s an amazing cook of specific recipes, but generally can’t cook unless she’s following a recipe or knows it by heart. If she’s trying to follow a new recipe it’ll take her 2 hours to finish because she has to stop and re-read it, and then figure out what’s happening. But the 1 or 2 dishes her mom taught her to cook? When you try them they taste like coming home.

She smells like slightly musky jasmine perfume 😍😍😍

She doesn’t buy a whole lot of clothes/makeup, and will use them until they run out. And that’s on what? Her nasty 8-year-old eyeshadow palette that she’s re-pressed after it cracked multiple times But also shopping with her is MISERABLE because she’ll try on 100 things, like 1 or 2, and then decide not to buy them because she doesn’t love it. She’s big on staple pieces and rewears the same 10 outfits day to day (but obviously has stuff to dress up in for date nights) 

We should’ve gotten to do the heartrate challenge with her because she is a BLUSHY BITCH. She doesn’t know how to handle compliments other than throwing them back and gets flushed really easily.

She doesn’t like mint toothpaste and used to use kid’s bubblegum flavor until she found an adult strawberry flavor to buy. If she doesn’t have non-mint toothpaste, she won’t brush her teeth and will feel super gross about it.

She really ~wants~ to like classical music, but just doesn’t have the knowledge base/ability to get into it. She’ll always agree to go watch orchestras and tries to put it on while driving, but she’s never as interested in listening to it as she wants to be. 

It’s probably just me projecting but I think she struggled with depression from 15-20 and still has to work at recovery. She has a lot more good days now that she’s out of school, but still struggles sometimes.

Her Instagram is trash. She hardly ever updates it, and when she does post ootd or a selfie they get a TON of likes and comments. People come to her page because she’s super hot, and they run into those ‘aesthetic photos with a quote in cursive overlaid’ and have to scroll just to find another picture of her. She never likes/comments on other peoples posts.

Loves the tattooed aesthetic but is afraid to get really heavily tattooed herself. Part of it is that she lowkey doesn’t like the style of the tattoos she got when she was younger, and part of it is that she still worries she won’t be as sexy with lots of work. But she’s definitely into inked girls. 

Her ouid tolerance is absolutely nothing. She takes a few drags and gets super giggly. I’m pretty sure if anyone gave her an edible she’d astral project and never come back.

Hates public speaking. Hates it with a passion. She gets really flustered and confused and apologizes a lot. 

This bitch leaves moisturizer everywhere in the goddamn house. Different scents, different types, but it’s literally somewhere in every room. Same with chapstick. She’s got car body lotion and office body lotion and bedroom body lotion and it’s honestly just getting out of hand at this point. BUT! She’s easy to buy gifts for at least....

She LOVES budgeting but is really embarrassed about it. She’s pretty secretive about it, and won’t obviously say “sorry that’s out of my budget”, preferring instead to quietly find an excuse or other way. The satisfaction of identifying how much comes in and what needs to go out is 10/10 for her. If MC needs financial advise she’ll be really excited to break it all down and look at the numbers. 

Building off of that, one of her favorite things to do is calculate what monthly mortgage payment would be the absolute stretch for her (though realistically she’d never feel comfortable committing to more than 25% of her income) and then search online for homes that match that. In another life she’d be an estate agent. 

Curly hair is NOT a joke to her- she’s very passionate about the ‘do NOT brush it out’ and ‘scrunch it’ and ‘cover it with a silk cap/tshirt’ system.

She loved hopscotch as a kid and create super long, intricate scotches (idk what to call them lmao). As an adult, if she sees one she will ALWAYS do it, and she gets really excited about it. If you’re walking and she sees one, she will cross the street just to do it.

She’s really into visual art (which is one of the reasons she was so into my S1 MC) and adores museum dates. She loves standing in front of a painting for 30 minutes just staring, then looking up history about it and interpretations on her phone.

Not to talk too much about my MCs, but S1 Clara is a stone cold slytherin bitch who takes no shit and is not nice to people she doesn’t know. She’s super intimidating (purposefully so), but Talia is really warm and approachable. I love their high femme ‘really friendlyXstoic and mean’ dynamic so much. 

[shipskicksandgiggles]

Hi I’m back and yes I’m still procrastinating on homework and will definitely regret it later but I keep thinking about peter getting gradually sick and he can’t figure out what has him feeling so under the weather. His body aches and he’s just so nauseous that he can hardly even think about eating. He’s also unusually warm and just overall feels terrible so he finally heads down to the medbay. After running several tests and doing some research to spiders, doctor Cho determines that p’s 1/2 -🌸

[Symptoms are a side effect to an allergic reaction caused by some sort of spider repellent. She gives him a list of things that he needs to avoid he goes about his daily routine trying to figure out where he comes into contact with something from the list. He’s already switched over to a charcoal toothpaste so he knows he isn’t coming to contact with peppermint there and tony had banned bug repellent of any form from the tower months ago after a mishap that left p in the medbay 2/3 -🌸

P is totally stumped and can’t figure out what he’s been reacting to until Harley walks into the room, announcing himself with a pop of the gum he’s been chewing recently. He’s been chewing more gum to try and stop the nail biting habit that he’s picked up while working absent mindedly in the lab and suddenly everything makes sense to peter. Harley has been chewing gum, peppermint gum! Every time he kisses Harley he’s been getting a small amount of mint! Needless to say h is quick to 3/4 -🌸

switch over to normal bubblegum instead of the peppermint kind he liked. Even though he doesn’t quite like the taste of the bubble gum as much as the mint ones it’s totally worth it to see peter start feeling better and to still be able to kiss his boyfriend. He still feels pretty guilty about making p sick and makes it his mission to memorize everything on the list of things that peter is allergic to in order to protect his bf’s health. (Sorry this turned out longer than I expected it to)4/4-🌸]

ndnsbsh it’s okay this is good I like this

also, bubblegum slaps, but only Bazooka or HubbaBubba watermelon. I used to chew gum all the time before I had braces, and now I’ve had them off for 5 years and I still rarely chew gum, but when I do I do it right

this also goes for the little candys Harley eats like York peppermints, cinnamon jolly ranchers, etc. it’s a difficult process

[pollylynn]

Title: Better Angels WC: 900

He thinks he’s hallucinating the morning of the elf coffee. He has been tossing and turning barely dipping beneath the surface of sleep all night. He’s been hearing phantom noises and now there are phantom smells and there is definitely a phantom Beckett, because the real Beckett does not invoke fairy tale creature explanations, even when she’s half asleep. 

He certainly thinks he’s hallucinating his daughter. She’s been the central focus of his tossing and turning all night. Kate had dropped off somewhere in the middle of his litany of requests for police resources. 

A patrol car . . . 

No.

Just at night? 

No. 

A SWAT team?

Why would I let you have a SWAT team if I wouldn’t let you have a patrol car? 

I thought I might be wearing you down. 

No. 

He realizes now that he never quite managed sleep at all last night. He hadn’t hallucinated the sound of the front door or her quiet tread on the stairs, soft footsteps making their way along the hall upstairs, falling silent on the threshold of her room. It hadn’t just been wishful thinking. 

What’s here in the cold light of day though is not exactly what he would have wished for. He’s glad to see her face in any state, but she looks dreadful enough that he has to bite his tongue if he doesn’t want to be immediately exterminated by simultaneous glare from the two most important women in his life. 

But she does look dreadful, and it’s more than just the fact that dark circles are always particularly stark against her fair skin. She looks . . .  burdened, and that’s more than the oversized bag that’s bound to be missing three or four or five things she’d probably love to have to get her day started, but they’re all at her apartment—her dismal, lonely apartment. 

The thought eats at him—not just the notion of her rambling around that place by herself, without benefit of so much as an overzealous meter maid looking to moonlight (No . . . and nobody calls them meter maids anymore), though that’s certainly bad enough. He can’t stand the idea that the loft is a way station for her, and it’s missing things she wants—things he can’t get for her, because she’s been gone for months and he doesn’t know what they are.

He’s kept her room as is. He’s lashed out at his mother for trying to gather up and stow away things she left sitting around the upstairs bathroom—hair ties and mostly empty bottles of lotion, an awkwardly squeezed out tube of bubblegum toothpaste that she still uses every once in a while. That she used to use every once in a while, maybe. He doesn’t know, because that’s the way it is when someone leaves. 

He’s still on the mopey, self-indulgent train of thought when suddenly she’s going, suddenly with a kiss and a long-suffering I am not having this conversation again look, she is gone. And he is left not quite alone with the elf coffee. He slumps on to the stool and reaches for it. He takes a sip grimacing almost before it hits his tongue. 

“Why would you do that?” Kate scolds, but not really. “You know she takes it black now.” She comes up behind him and whisks the cup out of reach. 

“She didn’t used to,” he mutters. “Four sugars and a little bit. Until Pi was all ‘There’s no such thing as ethical sugar’.” 

“Yes. But Pi’s gone now.” She sets a fresh mug in front of him. Elf coffee that a human might drink. “Hurray! Remember?” 

“Hurray, except now she’s there—”

“By herself in that sketchy, dismal place—” She steals a sip of his coffee for herself. She has his rant down, beat for beat, just as he has hers. 

“—which is neither that sketchy, nor that dismal.” He shoots her an apologetic look. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

“I know you are.” She nudges under his arm. “And I know you’re a dad and you can’t help but worry.” 

He loves her for that. He loves her for all of this, actually—that she stays awake for a big chunk of his litany nearly every night, and denies him his fantasy police resources. He loves her for hammering it in to his brain as best she can that they’re not necessary. He loves her for the light touch she takes with him, most of the time, and for knowing when he needs a not so light touch to yank him back from the brink of something stupid and unreasonable. He loves that for right now, she knows he’s a dad, and she’s willing to save him from himself. SHe’s willing to save him from left-behind Elf coffee. 

“Hey,” he says when it seems like they’ve been standing there, sipping from the same mug for what feels like days and nights and days. “Don’t we have an early murder?” 

“We do.” She peels herself reluctantly from his side. “We should get going.” 

“Can we tune the scanner to . . .” He swivels, but he’s talking to her back as she strides toward the bedroom. 

“No,” she calls over her shoulder. 

“Okay.” He slides over the stool to follow. “But that’s only because you’ve got beat on her—”

“No.” The denial isn’t quite, drowned out by the shower starting. “No beat cops, you creep.”  A/N: Elf coffee. V. Dum. Hmm.

images via homeofthenutty

[frankpanioncube]

Costco Adventures

Somehow, @loganthrives and I got onto the idea that it’d be hilarious to see demons in a costco. And I wrote it. I used @loganthrives and @wowanothergotdamnedartist ‘s oc’s with my own. And I hope it’ll be funny

Lord Diavolo had issued a decree - a human needed human supplies, then it was necessary to go to the human world for such things

“We need to get lots of stuff in a bit of a hurry. We need to make sure they have bathroom things and all sorts of food that’s safe for humans. How do we do that? And quickly?”

“We use Costco.”Logan suggested. “There are plenty of them all over the world.”

“Oh. Good point” Kotomi nodded. “You know, I have to say, living here I almost forgot about all our human stuff. It just seems second nature to use Akuzon now.”

“You know, I know what you mean.”

Logan nodded at her fellow human by way of a reply.

“This is excellent.” Solomon said and that should have been the warning this whole thing was going to go off the rails extremely quickly. 

“Costco it is!”

And that should have been the end of it, but this was the seven Demon brothers and also...Diavolo. Plus two angels and three humans. Honestly no one was sure where they were. Could have been London, could have been Bangledesh. Could have been Toronto.

(It was actually Chicago)

“Oh look. There’s hotdogs and pizza and blue drink. What does blue drink taste like?”

It took a moment for the humans to register Diavolo was addressing them. “It’s usually blue raspberry.”

“How exciting! And I do believe I would like to try this bubblegum stuff. Is this what pink tastes like? Ah, Lucifer, you must try this!”

“Of course, Lord Diavolo.”

“And this is...raspberry but...blue?”

“Yes. It’s very common by modern standards.”

If the prince of hell wasn’t going to try to figure it out no one else had any options.

“Maybe I could ask Heavenly Father.”

“And let’s not do that, Angel.”

Winter shrugged at Satan but left the issue alone.

“It’s wonderful.”

It was almost normal by Diavolo’s standards. No one (wisely) asked where Diavolo got a blue raspberry ice pop out of the clear blue.

“Wonderful.” Beel and Winter had hit the food stand already and Asmo had disappeared down some aisle that had health and beauty products, leaving Mammon, Lucifer, Belphegor and Satan to turn to their humans for any actual shopping. Levi had seen the TV’s not ten seconds after walking in and run.

“How are we supposed to get things from the top shelves.” Belphegor complained.

“Oh how easy. Did you forget your own twin has wings? And so do some of us. Lucifer fly up there.”

“Oh hell yes. Any day Lucifer looks like an idiot please and thank you.” 

“Lord Diavolo there is toilet paper on the ground here.”

“Get the one at the top. It’s more fresh.”

No one had the heart to tell Diavolo toilet paper didn’t have a shelf life. Or maybe, just because it was the demon prince’s shenanigans. Either one made sense.

“Oh this is the best day ever.” The wings had been all out of balance since Lucifer fell and with all members of the Lucifer Sucks club present this was like Christmas.

As it turned out, the party was down by a bunch which made Solomon’s arrival at the cart with boxes extremely conspicuous.

“Asmo asked me to get them.”

Lucifer shook his head. “I very much doubt my brother asked you to get...24 packs of chicken salsa taquitos. I might believe Beel but this is your worst lie ever.”

They were in the cart. The now by MUCH put upon Avatar of Pride shook his head, but Diavolo stopped his hand. “Oh but humans like them! That is a human!”

And the group they were supposed to be buying for had gotten cut by a third.

“Where is Logan? And Belphegor and...anyone who didn’t stay at the food court.”

***

“Come with me!” “Belphegor had whispered. 

Logan was a tougher human than most but Belphegor usually didn’t do her wrong and they found themselves being lead away from Diavolo and the toilet paper and into a large display in the centre of the store.

“There’s a bed right here. Come on, let’s try it out.” 

Logan had always prided themselves on being at least a bit more willful than that but apparently there was no stopping Belphegor when he wanted to cuddle. They got into the bed - it was….a bed, they guessed. Nothing to write home about and honestly they were messing up a display. They’d done their dues in retail before being asked to the Devildom - maybe not a Costco but this had to be a retail worker faux pas.

“Okay. We’ve tried it out and…”

Logan wasn’t sure if it was some trick of the Avatar of sloth or whether this bed was comfy or whether Belphegor was the comfortable one if he was hugging you, But allri---

Kevin drove a fork lift. That was his job. He rotated stock. He had a rapport that was decent with his coworkers. Every so often Amran the sample dude would give him whatever the store was hocking if he was in the vicinity. So how in the hell there was what seemed to be two people cuddled up in the display bed?

He...decided not to disturb them.

Although...when next he drove his forklift around after his break...they were on a porch swing.

Just how? And HOW did that man have a tail. Maybe he was one of those furries...that was a thing. Well...Kevin wasn’t a judge. He got back on his forklift.

---

“Okay sho...Sho I don’t half to pay for these?”

“The idea is, SIR….” and the sales lady said that with a very implied suggestion that ‘keeping her job’ was the only reason the individual before her ought to receive any sort of title  “That you pay for them if you like them. They’re samples.”

“But they’re FREE samples, right?”

The poor human was definitely not paid enough to be dealing with this level of shit. “Would you please buy a box? Or maybe ten? ”

“Oh...Oh hell yeah. Hell yeah my brother will. Lemme take these and I’ll add them to the cart. But thanks for lunch! Pretty good food ya humans got here.”

“Thank you? Uh...human?”

“Don’t worry about--”

“I’m so sorry. It’s apparently Mammon’s first time being around people. We’ll buy your stuff...too.”

Kotomi sighed and grabbed almost her fifth box from the random samples. “Sometimes I think you should be the Avatar of Gluttony…” she muttered.

“Well if they ain’t nailed down they’re free. And I ain’t gonna pass up a free lunch ya know.”

Lucifer and Diavolo were looking at some toothpaste when the human and the avatar of greed caught up. Kotomi dumped ten boxes of all the free sample products Mammon had ate across the store.

“Are these things you need?”

“Yes. They are things we need because Mammon decided to make a meal of the samples.”

Lucifer grit his teeth. 

Diavolo nodded peaceably. “Ah, well we can’t have enough. I had never thought chimera would be poisonous to humans but happy accident we were able to help. These...pizza bagels are evidently more to human taste being they’re sold in a human shop.”

Wherever Logan and Soloman were right now, there would be a human plot to get Lucifer to eat a pizza bagel. It would probably be hilarious.

___

It was predictable enough that Beel gravitated towards any place that served food just as Levi was likely looking at the wall of televisions (he was) . It was also predictable that Winter accompanied the Avatar of Gluttony.

“Beel I’m really full. I don’t think...Why don’t you finish this?”

“Oh wonderful!” 

The angel breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m just going to rest my head here. You keep eating.”

“I can’t believe this food is so cheap!”

“I can’t believe I ate five hotdogs.”

“I’m proud of you.” Beel said around a mouthful. “I worry about you.”

Winter managed a smile. “You know you don’t need to. I’m just fine. And most of us don’t need to eat as much as you do. But it’s sweet you worry.”

And with that the angel slipped into a food coma. 

“Oh! Lucifer...you guys are back. Ah….you think you could settle up?”

“Beel...this board says the pizza and hotdogs are $1 each. How the hell did you rack up…$89.95?”

“Is that angel okay?“ Diavolo whispered

“She’s an angel - she’ll just be groggy and bloated.”

Winter managed a slight noise that was best translated as ‘Mrr’ before cuddling into Beel’s arms.

“Ah are we checking out? The distraction from the over full Angel (who seemed to be well...angel like gorgeous despite being slumped over Beel’s shoulders) was a shock to all. 

“Satan and Levi.” 

Lucifer’s joy at not having to track down anyone else was a bit short lived when he saw what Satan was carrying.

“What is that?” By this point the Avatar of Pride was just resigned.

“An HD TV with 3D Capabilities.” 

“And a PS5.”

“Is that a thing now?” Kotomi asked.

“Oh, actually yes.” That was Soloman. “iS that the 250 gig one?”

“Yes indeed!” the otaku chirped. “And I’ll even put it in the common room.”

“...goody.” 

“What was that, Lucifer?”

“I said, where are Logan and Belphegor? Also did anyone keep tabs on Asmo? I…”

“Uh hello? Hi...hi there hello?” A man in a Costco uniform was running across the parking lot. “

“Um...okay this is going to sound super weird but are you people...um...are you with the um...the two people in the bed in Asle 19?”

“Probably.” Diavolo spoke up.

“Okay one of them has a cow tail and the other is a white chick with some---”

“Yes. Yes they’re with us. Can we get them back?”

“Please.” Kevin said, who literally had never had a weirder day. “Do you...do you maybe want to take the guy in Aisle 5 too? He just checked out with about five boxes of lotion and facial masks and just about everything from the cosmetic section...he’s a little dude but wow you all….I mean….wow.”

“Thank you for the compliment kind human! We all loved your store and we got plenty of stuff for the humans.”

It didn’t take too long for the weird little party to leave the Costco with the strangest break room conversation.

Kevin the forklift guy apparently went to mandatory counselling because he swore he saw a door open into hell and swallow a whole bunch of weird customers. 

[hollandroos]

Hello, i love you → Tom x reader | Harrison x reader

 Soulmate AU

Summary: You’re only supposed to have one soulmate, one person to give your heart to. So what happens when two boys stumble into your life?

‘What are you meant to do when you promise your heart to two people? You either give it to one or keep it for yourself. Sometimes, you tear your own heart in half in the process of deciding.’

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: None really for this part :-)

You were never good at the whole morning thing.

You’d drag yourself out of bed by seven, force yourself into the shower where the water would either be too hot and cause you to nearly jump out of your skin or bone-chilling cold and result in a possible tumble. The latter ultimately made you realise that you’d forgotten to pay your heating bill again and the threat of more stress then need be would loom over your head because it’ll all come down to whether or not you had enough coffee beans left for a cappuccino or if you’d be left with having to suffer through the bitter taste of an instant.

Breakfast is always a rush with toast crumbs squeezing their way in between the creases of whatever shirt you’d thrown on, jam making its way onto your chin and the scrunching of snack wrappers between an enclosed fist. If you were lucky, you’d have some kind of fruit left sitting on the bench that was yet to go off and maybe you’d actually be able to find your headphones in between incomplete sheets and last nights washing.

The bus usually smelt like piss and if you were extra unlucky, the remains of last night's alcohol wafting off of a hungover man's coat and you were left trying to focus on the taste of the spearmint bubblegum from the corner store. On those days, however, you happened just to be thankful for the fact that you’d nabbed a seat before the aisle filled up.

You’re lucky if the coffee shop next to where your internship is taking place isn’t overly crowded. You’re lucky if you have to wait less then five minutes in line to grab the selection of coffees you were instructed to pick up every morning by eight am sharp and you’re lucky if the waiter that always seemed to flirt with you is on- not because you enjoyed being flirted with by a stranger but because he knew your order off by heart by now and didn’t make you repeat all seven coffees each time you came in. It was both a relief and a struggle.

Today you rush straight to the front counter, a coat pulled tightly against your chest and smile at the familiar worker there. He was a younger boy, probably eighteen making him only three years younger then you but still, the flirty smile he gives you upon seeing you halt in front of him is enough to throw you off completely.

“Morning, Joe.” You force a smile, the corners of your lips surely weren’t thanking you as you hold the look long enough for him to remember every single one of the drinks you were about to order. Today you wanted to treat yourself. “Just the usual, one on me the rest on the company.”

“Got it.” He taps it into his screen and you pull your credit card out, along with a loyalty card. “Having a good morning?” Joe fumbles around, trying not to embarrass himself in front of the older, cute girl in front of him. Someone he still achieved exactly what he's trying to dodge.

“I am, thank you. Trying to take in the weather before I lock myself up for the rest of the day.”

The man in the apron with a slightly wonky name tag hands you a receipt, opening his mouth once more before you go to walk away. “It’s a shame they have someone as pretty as you locked up in the offices.”

It’s a remark that forces you to do everything in your power to hold back a grimace from appearing on your features. The kid is eighteen, he’s awkward and probably drowning in school work. You were there three years ago, so you shrug it off and offer an awkward smile.

“Thanks.”

The little bell above the door rings multiple times while you sit and wait for your order and every time it rings, cold air rushes into the room and a stranger lets out a small remark about the weather. The heat pump begins an endless cycle of pumping enough warm air into the cafe before the door is opened again. It’s a cycle you were used to– one you had gotten used to on only your fifth chilly winter morning of waiting for a tray and a half of coffee.

Aka the only thing that you were sure kept your bosses from tearing each others heads off. Huh, maybe that was why they were so demanding when it came to their caffeine. But this morning you can still taste toothpaste on your tongue and wonder if your coffee will be too impossibly bitter and you’ll be the one doing the tearing of heads.

Tom walks in at exactly seven forty-nine with his hands shoved into his coat pockets. He swears that at his point his lips may as well be blue and the tip of his nose was frozen like an iceberg. He’s almost dying to get his hands wrapped around a takeaway cup, to warm the frozen nubs and get on his own way to work– like the tens of other people in the cafe were hoping for.

He barely notices the girl in the coat that scrolls through Facebook as he makes his way to the counter and orders his drink. He barely even notices the girl as he turns around and pulls his phone out to look through his own social media. Tom would hate to admit that he was one of those people too sucked into their phones for their own good but here he was.

Still, It’s crazy that, how many strangers we walk past every single day without giving them a second glance. He only notices her for the first time when an order is called and she jumps up out of her seat, coat falling around her knees as she walks towards the counter– right next to Tom. Tom wasn't one to say that two people fit together, but he was sure straight away that they fit like cheese and crackers.

“That’s me!” She beams.

It was nearing eight am and freezing outdoors yet she sounded so lively, her voice as smooth as melted honey and she takes the trays with both hands, already eyeing a certain drink he assumes is her own and he coughs, stuffing his phone in his back pocket.

“Can I help you with anything? You really look like you’re struggling.” Tom says before he can stop himself. It was as if he was drawn to her. That type of thing wasn’t meant to happen every day, right?

With more drinks then you wished to carry in your arms, you glance at the stranger but for a moment you find yourself at a loss for words. Before, all you’d seem was a stranger hover near the counter with jeans and a torn Adidas shoes. That small inkling you’d had to look up had been swallowed back by you and now you found yourself lost in the sea that was his eyes. Cliche.

“No, I’m good! Thank you, though–” But you must’ve spoken too soon because in an instant you drop your coffee, the takeaway mugs tumble to the floor until they hit with a splat. The bitter liquid runs under your shoes and Toms, temporarily staining the coffee shop floor and your cheeks heat up in pure embarrassment as people stare. “Fuck.”

The spilt coffee was pushed to the back of Toms mind as his mouth falls open, eyes widening in shock. It was as if everything else around him suddenly didn’t matter but you. You with a now coffee stained skirt and embarrassed expression. But he saw beneath that. He saw every little line that was etched onto your features and lack of sleep, that was for sure. He saw days of what could either be too much school work or work and the stain on your shirt that wasn’t in fact from the coffee that was turning your white shirt a disgusting shade of brown.

“You’re– you’re my–” He struggles.

You cough, choking on air as he trips over his own words. In a moment you believed you’d be tripping over spilt coffee if you didn’t get your act together.

“You’re my soulmate.” You finish for him. Gentle brown eyes that resembled pools of warm honey stare adoringly. You already wanted to take in every piece of him already from the creases beneath his eyes and at the corners of his lips, to the hoodie that drowned his hands and that one overgrown curl that kept falling over his forehead despite his attempts to keep it tame.

Soulmate. That word was one you tried to ignore, pushing to the back of your mind and one you’d jump over like a hole in the footpath because when the day came to use it properly, it’d come and here it was. Staring you right in the face. Finally.

He feels his arm tingling. The feeling could be compared to a spider crawling up his arm or ants padding across his skin and that’s probably the only part of it all that makes him feel uneasy. Tom hates spiders. But that feeling, the gentle tingling in his arm only convinces him further that it’s you he’s meant to be with, the one he’s been looking for as cliche as it sounded.

“This is– this is insane. You’re so pretty.” Tom bites his tongue the second he lets the words slip, fearing he was about to scare his soulmate off before he’d even got the chance to know you. “I’m sorry I don’t know what I’m saying at all right now, you’re just so– you’re amazing. I’m shaking, wow.”

And he wasn’t lying. Toms' hands were shaking, trembling one might say. But so were yours. You could practically feel his nerves though maybe that was your own. The little mark around your ankle is tingling, making you stiffen because it’s actually uncomfortable. For such a special moment you hadn’t expected that– what could be compared to pins gently breaking the first layer of skin.

“I don’t get dressed up like an office assistant every day if that was what you were hoping for.” You laugh at his impromptu comment. “I also don’t wear my coffee to work– however, I am a bit of a clutz.”

“Things to note about my soulmate, doesn’t dress up like an office assistant every day and is a clutz, noted.” Tom smiles as the word rolls off of his tongue again. It sounded all too fake, like something he was dreaming up.

Soulmate. The one person you’re supposed to spend forever with. Someone you’re meant to love for eternity, give your all too and receive a lifetime of happiness in return. Tom couldn’t help but wonder if it’d feel like they say it does to so much as graze your skin, if hearing his name roll off of your tongue could send his chest into a frenzy of love and satisfaction and if you lay together, close enough, skin against skin, your hearts would beat as one.

You laugh lightly,  “Things to note about my soulmate, has pretty brown eyes and rambles when he’s nervous. I have to say, we’re off to a really good start as well as things go.”

“My name’s Tom.”

“Well, Tom, I’m Y/N.” He swears your name sounds like gold, pure fucking gold as it spills off of your tongue and in his mind he’s repeating it over like a chorus– and hearing his own name is better then anything, to put it simply. “I would love to stand and talk to you more but I’m about to be late for work and It’s bad enough that I no longer have their coffees…”

“Oh yeah– right. Can I give you my number?”

“I’d really like that.” You lace your fingers together, doing everything in your power to keep yourself grounded though you doubted Tom would do anything but laugh if you started jumping up and down. He seemed giggly.

“Great, awesome.” He fumbles with his coat, trying to search for anything he can use to write his number on. Maybe it would’ve been easier if he just put his number straight in your phone but his mind was messy, clouded and hazy with pictures of you. “Here, just text me whenever.” He hands you the paper and you tuck it between your fingers and then it fucking happens, the very first touch. “You will call me, right?”

It was so cliche. You met at a coffee shop, you spilt your coffee and he was there to help. Your hands touched– gently grazed and you felt shock waves throughout your entire body and surely he had to feel it too, for only after minutes you were his and he was yours.

“Of course I will, first chance I get.” You smile through lined lips. As every second passed you got closer and closer to being late to your internship but Tom seemed more important than working some desk job. Scratch that, he was. You wanted to remember every little piece of him like the colour of his eyes and the scuffed Adidas shoes on his feet. And god forbid if you lost that crinkly, torn apart paper you’d never forgive yourself.

You leave the coffee shop with a skip in your step despite messing up the coffee orders that morning and a picture of his brown locks engraved in your brain. Already you wanted to send him a text, to be impossibly close. With an overjoyed heart, you glance down at his number scribbled down on a scrap piece of paper with ‘Tom :)’ beneath it, a little heart too to match.

Tom immediately pulls out his phone and goes to his contacts. A part of him hoped to see an unfamiliar number on the screen early but instead, he sends a text to his best friend and in the process nearly walks into a pole but not even that could wipe the grin off of his face. Love at first sight was real, it was what would get him through his day and the next and the one after that. Love at first sight had proved itself.

To: Jacob

I met her. She’s perfect.

-

Harrison forces himself up many sets of stairs. He could’ve just used the elevator, but he wanted to push himself– probably not a good idea considering the day before he’d worked out legs and the ache was still very prominent. Also, his apartment seemed to be near the very top floor and it was more of a hyke then a simple climb up the stairs.

He wasn’t going to complain though. Nope, he doubted the fact that his smile had fallen once since reaching the apartment complex. He made sure to smile at every one of the other residents, even helping the little old lady on floor three make sure she pressed the right button on the elevator before hoping out himself. He gave five dollars to the man outside and allowed a lost seven-year-old to use his phone to call home.

Some would say Harrison had a heart of gold but the boy did have his fair share of bad events too like the one time he got blackout drunk and streaked around the neighbourhood much to the neighbour's disgust (luckily not his neighbours). There was the one time he got in a bar fight too and ended up with a black eye for the next few weeks.

At the same time as Harrison was clambering up the very last flight, the elevator just so happened to ping before the doors open and you climb out– more like struggle with a series of boxes in your arms, covering half of your view. In anyone else's opinion, it would seem like you were just asking for trouble by walking around with too many boxes then what you could handle but you felt confident enough. That was until your arms begun to feel like jelly and you had to side step to refrain from dropping the top box.

Something was bound to go wrong, it was only a matter of time and since this morning– since meeting the charming boy that had promised you his heart you felt like you were on cloud nine, like nothing could get you down.

It wasn’t anything too expensive inside, but the objects were close to your families hearts. It was old photos in photo frames and vases that your mother had handed down to you. There was cutlery that you planned to store away instead of use and little pieces of china that your mother had refused to let you lay your grubby finger son as a kid.

Your arms felt like jelly and your legs threatened to give out so you wanted to cry when you found out that you’d come to the wrong damn floor. You groan loudly, not seeing the stranger standing by the steps with narrowed eyes.

“Can I help you with anything? You really look like you’re struggling.”  

You grunt, holding the boxes with aching arms. This was probably the worst time to run into someone and your mind was anywhere else as you focused on not dropping any of the items in hand. It could’ve been anything in the box from precious china of your mothers to plastic cups and forks.

“No, I’m good! Thank you, though–” You shake your head right as the top box falls out of your arms, landing on the ground with a thud before a terrifying shattering sound echoes throughout the floor. “Fuck.” You groan– then it hits you, a second too late but all too soon. A truth that had hit harder then the shattered cutlery.

It hits you harder then it had this morning when you ran into the cute brunette from the coffee shop. It hits you like a fucking train because you already found your soulmate yet the words on your wrist matched what he’d just said to you and by the look on his face, the words you’d just said suited what was printed wherever on his body too. Your mind runs to Tom with the lopsided smile and cheeky glint in his eyes, from the feelings you felt when you first ran into him to the happiness that soon followed.

But now you were standing in front of another boy– a blonde with piercing blue eyes.

Harrison Osterfield gapes, feeling all kinds of happy as he realised that you were the one. He was ten when he felt the words appear, only sixteen when his closest friends found their soulmates and twenty when he realised that he was the only one without someone to love and call his own. So now he was twenty-three and his heart was swelling with joy because he couldn’t imagine a more beautiful girl to be his soulmate even if he tried. It was as if already, he was more then head over heels.

Whether it be the idea of finally finding his soulmate or that the stories he’d heard from his friends were true. Simply being near the person you were destined to spend forever with could make you ecstatic and he felt that he was finally about to understand.

So he only felt his heart drop when you realised that you looked absolutely terrified.

Fingers reach into your front pocket, toying with a scrap piece of paper just to check that it was still there, tucked away safely between empty gum wrappers and spare change– that this morning really happened and wasn’t some figmentation of your lonely imagination. That Tom existed and he had looked at you like you put the stars in the sky and spoke to you like you were the most beautiful flower in a field of hundreds, all blooming and vibrant but he’d picked you.

But Harrison looks at you like you were the one thing that makes the sun come out of hiding every morning. Like you were the first breath of fresh air in years and he was experiencing proper air in his lungs once more and the thought of letting him down, making his breathtaking smile turn into a calamitous frown made your chest ache and you realised that he too was your soulmate, because if he wasn’t you would’ve been able to let him down but you simply couldn’t because the thought of hurting the person you’re destined to give yourself to fully is meant to be the one thing that hurts more then anything else.

Then Tom is reappearing in your mind and you realise that you couldn’t hurt him either. That your heart longs for both but we can’t always have what we want.

Because how were you supposed to choose between the one that looks at you like you put the stars in the sky and the one that looks at you like you’re the reason the sun rises every morning?

Your soulmate was a brunette with brown eyes like the colour of the coffee you spilt all over the cafe floor that morning and a heart of gold, with a light that could extend to even the greatest lengths - but your soulmate was also a blonde with blue eyes that reminded you of the rain and you loved rain. You could stand in it until you were a sneezing, sniffling mess. He wore eyes that told more stories then you feared you’d ever be able to hear.

“You’re my soulmate.” You say out loud, mostly to yourself then to him. The room is spinning, photos that you’ve marched past at least six times today suddenly look like mere splashes of colour and the railing seems too far away to grasp.

“And you’re mine.” Harrison swallows and your shattered goods don’t seem all that big of a deal anymore. “Where have you been hiding away all this time, huh?”

You’d heard every horror story in the book about people's soulmates and things going wrong but not this. Never this. How exactly was it, that your heart was supposed to belong to not one, but two boys? What are you meant to do when you promise your heart to two people? You either give it to one or keep it for yourself. Sometimes, you tear your own heart in half in the process of deciding.

Maybe you just had a habit of dropping things in front of cute British boys.

Please come and tell me what you thought, send feedback and love!! :)

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[cottontail20]

In Happy Times, Our Love Does Grow, Chapter 7: Warm Coat, Warm Heart

Summary: Wanda becomes rather attached to Vision’s coat.

Ao3 link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/20601530/chapters/49383167

Later, Vision dropped Wanda off outside her apartment block, and left only after Wanda agreed to exchange phone numbers to ensure she could call if she ever found herself needing to talk.

She smiled at Vivian's little hand waving to her from the back of the car, and watched until they were out of sight. Then Wanda headed inside her cheap, somewhat rundown apartment, feeling strangely content, and set about cleaning up a few scattered messes she hadn't been too bothered with before.

It wasn't until sometime after Vision and Viv had dropped her off that Wanda realized she was still wearing Vision's spare coat. She pulled out her phone, and was going to text him, thinking he might want to come get it, then paused. Her apartment was still a total mess, and despite Vision's earlier understanding of her struggles, she wasn't sure she was comfortable with him seeing deeper into how she currently lived.

Instead, Wanda sent a different text, simply thanking him for breakfast. She then decided she would take the coat to work with her, and return it next time Vision visited the store. Father's day was coming up, and Viv would probably come looking for a card. Wanda knew Vision had other coats, so he wouldn't miss this one for a bit. --

Wanda, however, did not have many spare coats, at least not good quality ones. So, when the Heating went out in her apartment a few days later, Wanda found herself wearing Vision's coat during the still cold mornings. Though old and well-worn, the coat was comfortable and warm.. and it smelled just a little like Vision, the smell of freshly brewed tea, mint toothpaste, and almost burnt toast, with the tiniest hint of Viv's bubblegum shampoo.

Wanda told herself she would head into the Mall early on her next workday to buy a new coat of her own. But she, uh.. forgot. And Vision hadn't happened to come by and fetch his coat that day, so she had taken it home and worn it again.. and again, and a few more times after that. It was, Wanda thought, justifying the matter to herself, a very comfortable coat.

She got a laugh one morning when she found one of the coat's pockets filled with streamers, the other a packet of balloons, the little extras Vision had purchased 'for Viv' when they had come to visit her. She took to wearing the coat in the evenings too, as her Landlord was no closer to fixing the heating.

Vision had texted Wanda a photo of a picture Vivian had drawn in preschool, a picture of the three of them eating together. Aside from thinking that this was absolutely adorable, Wanda couldn't help but be a little impressed. It seemed like Viv was quite an accomplished little artist for her age, and Wanda would know, since she had been taking art classes before Pietro's death, until the time came that she couldn't afford them anymore, at least not if she still wanted a roof over her head.

The next time Wanda had a 'bad' night, one of those nights she usually would have gone out to drink and forget, she had found herself looking at the drawing. In her mind's eye, she saw Viv flying into her lap. Saw Vision's kind smile.. And then, like some sort of magic, like somehow, he knew.. Vision texted her.

Just checking in. Here if you needed to talk.

Wanda felt herself smile slightly. Texted back a thank you, that she was alright, because somehow, just knowing at least one person out there gave a damn about her was enough to make her think that everything was alright, or at least that it could be.

Wanda decided against going out. Instead, she made herself some popcorn, and opened Netflix. The next morning, instead of waking in a stranger's bed, she woke on her own couch, with Vision's coat wrapped around her. --

The next time Wanda saw Vision and Viv, it was, as she had expected, a few days before Father's Day. Vision's coat sat folded just behind the counter. By now, Wanda had almost forgoten that she brought it to work with her with the intention of returning it.

"You can't look, Daddy!" Viv scolded Vision as she rushed over to browse the racks of cards. "It's 'sposed to be a surprise!"

"Of course" Vision chuckled. "I promise you, I will not look."

"Good."

"I'll just be over here talking to Wanda, alright? Tell me when you've picked one so I can cover my eyes."

"I will, Daddy" Viv nodded.

"Good girl" Vision smiled, heading up to the counter. "Hello, Wanda."

"Hello" Wanda smiled at him. "Looking forward to Father's Day?"

"Sometimes, I think Viv looks forward to it more than I do" Vision chuckled. "How have you been?"

"I'm improving" Wanda shrugged. "Thanks for your text the other day."

"You're welcome.." Vision peered behind Wanda, spotting the folded coat. "Is that mine?"

"Oh, of course" Wanda blushed, and hurried to fetch the coat. Now that the time had come to return it, however, she was finding herself a little bit reluctant to part with it. Still, she held it out towards Vision. "I'm sorry, I meant to try and return it sooner than this, but the Heating is out in my apartment, and your coat is really.."

"It's quite alright" Vision shook his head, pressing the coat back into Wanda's hands. "Please, keep it until your heat is back on."

"Are you sure?" Wanda frowned. "That could take awhile, my Landlord isn't great with these things.."

"I insist."

"Well.. okay. Thank you" Wanda's frown became a smile, and she tucked the coat back behind the counter.

"Got one!" Vivian suddenly declared. "Close your eyes, Daddy."

"Alright" Vision chuckled, turning away and covering his eyes.

Viv rushed over to place her chosen card on the counter, then dumped the contents of a small coin purse to pay for it.

"Look, Wanda! I saved up my own monies for Daddy's card!"

"I see that, but, hmm.. you've given me a little too much" Wanda took two nickels from the small pile of coins, placed the card in a small bag, then swept the rest of the money back into Viv's little purse. She would cover the rest of the cost herself once they left. "Your change, Miss Vivian.."

"Thank you!" Viv smiled sweetly. "You can look now, Daddy."

"All done?" Vision turned around, uncovering his eyes.

"Uh-huh.." Viv nodded, then turned back to Wanda. "Wanda, we're gonna have a party in the park for the Fourth of July. You should come!"

"Just us and a few friends" said Vision, and Wanda almost thought he was blushing. "If you already have plans I understand.. B-But if not, you'd be very welcome to come.."

"Hmm.." Wanda smiled softly, charmed by his sudden shyness. "I might be able to fit you in. Text me the details?"

"Of course" Vision jumped, seeming surprised by her acceptance. "Yes, I'll do that as soon as we get Home.. Thank you, Wanda.."

Wanda watched as the Father and daughter hurried out of the store, a smile on her face, then moved to find her purse, dropping a few extra dollars into the cash register.