#I'm sure there's a tw that I should probably tag this with but I have no idea what it should be
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kiyo-cant-write · 1 day ago
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Welp, I'm kinda back to request the guy again(y'know the RSA Silver anon). Tho you can call me as 🎵 anon. Thanks tho.
So I kinda have some little new idea pop in my head, I got the idea when I read some old scenarios. About Silver and Sebek, having a crush on Yuu. Then tries to fight over Yuu's attention. Just imagine they fight over Yuu and Yuu accidentally getting squish between their chest I mean check their PE uniform card, while they get too busy having a staring competition to notice Yuu got squish. Yuu intensely blushing, probably almost fainting
I hope you don't mind this.
silver and sebek fighting "over" yuu/reader ✧・゚
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Name change initiated, tags updated.
Hello! I don't mind this! I like Silver and the rest of Diasomnia (though my personal bias is Malleus xD) And I hope I interpreted your idea well! My sincere apologies for taking a longer time to get this out, my health is not doing well at the moment.
Note to anyone looking to request that I currently have a very big request for all the first years in the works and it is taking me some time to complete. That said, requests will be slow to go out but are open, actually.
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Summary: [Name] is swept up in an argument between Silver and Sebek Zigvolt during flight class. Were they always this built?
TW/CW: None
Notes: pre-relationship, the reader is described as smaller than Sebek/Silver, the reader is the Ramshackle Prefect/Yuu, they/them pronouns for the reader
Guest Stars: Grim, Malleus Draconia (mentioned)
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✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚:
Silver & Sebek Zigvolt
Silver did not plan to be in the argument in the first place.
He isn't a very confrontational personality to begin with.
That, and his father raised him better (or he says that).
And meanwhile, Sebek is just Sebek-ing, that's how it starts.
The argument doesn't begin with Malleus but it's sure about Malleus now and Silver kind of wants to punch Sebek.
Sebek throws the first punch and Silver is defending himself.
The two of them are airheads sometimes and forget they're in a joint class and there are people everywhere.
[Name] is smaller than the two of them and ends up caught between them but neither of them cares to notice.
[Full Name] you are about to experience being smooshed between two guys who have trained as guards since childhood.
Sebek is still more or less yelling.
Silver effectively politely conveys "Shut the fuck up."
[Name] and the other students are BAFFLED.
It seemed that it would be a while before this is resolved...
Silver is the one to point out this is a ... position.
Sebek gets offended that Silver is protecting [Name].
But why? WHAT IS THIS HUMAN DOING TO HIM?
Silver chooses to repress his feelings.
Trauma responses or something (Book 7 did things to me)
Then [Name] fainted and both boys began to p a n i c !!
"This is all your fault, Silver!"
"Sebek, be quiet."
Silver's expression might have seemed neutral to anyone in Vargas' PE class who was watching but Sebek recognized this type of expression from his childhood. Silver was glaring daggers at him from his group's area.
But! This was a fight and Sebek would win (for Malleus).
"HOW DARE YOU INSULT WAKA-SAMA?!??" Sebek roared, ignoring the class around him as all of his senses focused on that cat.
It would be good to note that while it was a "fight." it was a fight that Silver did not want to be in. How had it even begun? Silver wasn't sure. He was trying to talk to one of his classmates about something and then Sebek started yelling (really, who decided to let joint classes be with the first years?) and soon after, this had started.
"NYA! WHAT DID YOU SAY EYEBROWS?" Grim fired back at Sebek.
Raised by General Lilia Vanrouge, Silver has some quirks that others are quick to point out. He grew up in Briar Valley, after all. His "human skills" leave much to be desired. Still, Lilia instilled a sense of justice in Silver, and the knowledge that you should not say nasty things about others if they are your friends.
Silver sighed. This was why he decided to keep his thoughts on today's PE incident to himself. It would be better for everyone that way. But his emotions, the ones he tried to ignore, made things harder for him sometimes.
[Name] is being a bit daft, though. Why did they get involved?
As Sebek yelled at Grim, the cat jumped into his human half's arms and caused Sebek to, as he was trying to grab Grim, get much too close to the Prefect (for safety and for Silver to accept).
He sighed again as he took several steps over to the trio and attempted to intimidate Sebek away from [Name].
"Sebek, cease this at once. This is unbecoming," Silver told him, standing just behind the Prefect and staring Sebek down.
"Silver, stay out of this!" Sebek hissed at him, not realizing how close he was to the Prefect, "I need to finish this."
"Malleus-sama would not approve..." Silver continued slowly.
He took a step closer.
"I am doing this for his honor, that cat insulted him!!"
Sebek pushed closer and Silver couldn't mask his irritation. Sebek would not listen to Silver and the light-haired man knew this.
"Even if he did, you're much too close to [Name]," the second-year added.
As each boy moved closer, they had [Name] cornered.
"Are you insinuating that you have some kind of claim over this human?" Sebek asked, nearly scoffing as if insulted by the concept.
"No, I am saying you're too close to them. Be polite."
"Silver, you speak and act so boldly for someone taken in off the streets," Sebek told him, bringing up a longstanding issue between them.
He had to ignore this. It wasn't supposed to be something shared with others, that he was taken in by Lilia, that Lilia was his father.
"This isn't about that. You're being rude."
Silver had never wanted to punch Sebek more than he did at this moment.
Smushed between the two guards, [Name] held Grim close to their chest. They could spell the faint scent of flowers from Silver whereas Sebek smelled like tea. They were able to see now, up close and personally, that Malleus' guards were strong, built young men, not as lean as some of the other students at Night Raven.
A few moments passed as Silver and Sebek attempted to stare each other down, other students beginning to watch the interaction, waiting for a fight to break out. It was a miracle that Vargas did not notice the commotion but he was busy telling some poor student about his great and important very heroic deeds.
"... Grim, I think I am going to die," [Name] whispered to the cat.
Startled, Grim looked up at them with such a sudden motion he jostled their spot between Silver and Sebek slightly.
"Nya?? Don't die, [Name]!!"
But the Prefect could not hear them anymore, they were dead to the world for the foreseeable future. With a bright red face, they looked somewhere between embarrassed and feverish.
"Oh no. [Name], are you okay?"
Silver moved away from Sebek as the green-haired boy did the same. Sebek noticed the state of the Ramshackle Prefect instantly.
"AAH! THE HUMAN NEEDS MEDICAL ATTENTION!!" Sebek shouted
For a moment, Silver wished that Sebek had a volume button he could (politely) turn down. It would save everyone a lot of grief.
All of this attracted the attention of Vargas who shipped around and sprinted over to them, forgetting his discussion of heroism with that poor, poor unsuspecting student.
"Don't yell," Silver told Sebek as he noticed Vargas speeding in their direction, his voice sounding like a whisper in comparison to Sebek's yells.
"HAH? This is all your fault, Silver!"
"Sebek. I said... Quiet down."
Today would be a long day for everyone...
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Imagine the rest for yourself~
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✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚:
Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^
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jerrythebug · 6 months ago
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It's WIP Thursday on a Sunday babes!!
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jichanxo · 9 months ago
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(late) sunday six
thanks for the tag @passthroughtime and @overdevelopedglasses! not gonna tag anybody because i'm late to the party as is :P i've mentioned sensei au/fic a lot in passing but i think this is the first time i'm actually talking about it properly in a text post as opposed to like, tags on my art... anyway, it goes without saying that this has lost judgment spoilers. part of the premise for this fic is that kitakata never becomes kuwana because he only barely manages to fix everything at the last possible moment. mitsuru lives, but only because he gets lucky. something like that. the main fic takes place long after this, but i recently had a go at trying to write mitsuru and kitakata on the roof together, since it's obviously integral to kitakata's character even if mitsuru doesn't fall into a coma. i'm still feeling it out, but it's been an interesting one. very different from what i'm used to. but also cathartic in some ways.
anyway here's an excerpt. putting another warning here for lost judgment spoilers and mentions of suicide.
Kusumoto looked away, sat up. He didn’t really seem to care that Kitakata was there, aside from the knowledge that he couldn’t do anything rash with him here, which he resented.
He wiped at his chin, his eyes, but the movements were clumsy, and he couldn’t clean himself off properly. His hair was still a mess, though he’d tried to make it presentable again. Kitakata suddenly wished he had a handkerchief in his pocket instead of a packet of cigarettes.
“I’m not going to kill myself, Sensei. You can leave if you want.”
He wanted to relieve Kitakata of any responsibility to be here. He thought Kitakata was only doing any of this to cover his own ass.
Kitakata hadn’t given him any reason to believe otherwise.
“Oh, well.” He fished for the first excuse that came to mind. “Haven’t had my smoke yet.”
He pulled one out, took his time lighting it. It’d buy him some time. It didn’t matter what Kusumoto thought of him, and he wouldn’t delude himself to expect that he might think that Kitakata was here because he wanted to be. It wasn’t entirely untrue, after all, that he was just trying to cover his ass. He’d made a mistake, and he was desperate to fix it.
He took a drag. Exhaled. Looked to Kusumoto.
“Do you mean it?” He asked.
“Mean what?” Kusumoto mumbled.
“When you said you weren’t going to kill yourself.”
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savrenim · 1 year ago
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okay so. I don't actually know that much about video games / everything I remember is from tumblr osmosis but it has been driving me crazy that between
the layout of the submersible is literally just a single tube
it has one window on one end of the tube and a computer screen with imaging on the other??? I think???
the people inside were bolted in on the surface. there is no hatch. the only way out is getting the thing back to the surface and undoing the bolts
it is steered by a fucking x-box controller
is. is this not just literally the setup of iron lung. did these people not pay $250k apiece to. to literally be in the iron lung submersible. why do I not see anyone else freaking out about this.
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aangelfish · 29 days ago
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☀️ – ADA with reader on their period !
TW: period talk, blood mention, dazai
🥃 note: reader is afab, but no pronouns are used <3
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Yukichi Fukuzawa:
Very sweet man, he buys whatever you need as soon as you ask for it
He has a lot of snacks in stock already, so that's covered, no problem!
(If Ranpo whines about his snacks going missing, he’ll get smacked)
He's not well versed in female anatomy (haha who said that omggg??) But!! He's willing to learn and adapts to your needs very quickly
Will leave in the middle of an agency meeting if you call him, you don't even need to ask
If your cramps get so bad that you cry, he'll do his best to find the strongest (and safest) painkillers in literally all of Japan. Fukuzawa spares no expense for your comfort
Also he does NOT get embarrassed if he has to go out and buy pads or tampons for you!! He's in and out of the store with literally zero issue 100/10 husband material
Doppo Kunikida:
Probably has it written into his schedule depending on how long you two have been together lmfao
Listen!!! He's a busy man. He needs to make sure every single thing in his day to day life is planned for, including his partners cycle
Usually, he doesn't need to go out and buy anything for you when your period hits because he's stocked up on everything well in advance
But if you beg him enough, he might go out to buy you some extra snacks,, and herbal tea,,, annddd that really fluffy blanket you saw at the store–
It's really a toss-up on if he'll leave work if you call him. He adores you, but he's got a duty to uphold! (“I ran out of painkillers, please–” “I'm on my way.”)
Blushes when he buys pads/tampons for you, but otherwise doesn't react. God forbid Dazai tags along for whatever reason, because then Kunikida might actually die of embarrassment before he leaves the store
Dazai Osamu:
Acts like he forgets your period, but the first day it hits you there's literally a care package left at your flat with all your favorite snacks, a new heating pad, and a bunch of other goodies
He's not one to complain if you need anything from the store, he'll buy whatever you want (with Kunikida's money) plus some alcohol for himself
If you call while he's at work, he doesn't mind at all 99% of the time. He probably even uses it as an excuse to dip if nothing interesting is going on tbh
“Ah, my Dearest! You've called at the perfect time. Do you need me at home? No? Are you sure? How about I come over to check on you just in case, hmmm?”
If you need pads or tampons, Dazai doesn't get embarrassed at all. Very smooth, might even boast about how he's “just doing what any good boyfriend should”
^ If he simply doesn't feel like it, though… He'll send Atsushi to buy them instead. It's endless amounts of fun for Dazai to torture the poor boy, he really can't help himself </3
Atsushi Nakajima:
Atsushi's lived a pretty solitary life before joining the agency, so his knowledge about menstruation is limited to what he's read in books
He doesn't get queasy with blood, though, so that's good! Very much willing to help if you bleed through your clothes or anything like that. 100% the boyfriend ever
He might go overboard when buying things you want/need, practically begs for Dazai's help to cover everything
Tiger form is very warm btw. Atsushi is a living heating pad, and he absolutely lets you take advantage of that
If you call him while he's at work, he may be a bit reluctant to leave at first… A little bit of pleading gets him to cave near instantly, though :P
Might cry when he goes to get you some pads/tampons?? He's aware it's something you need, but he's terribly anxious and will panic if someone asks what he's up to
Akiko Yosano:
Yosano feels most equipped for dealing with this, and she is! She is a doctor after all :3
She keeps track of both of your cycles, and if they happen to align at any point, she will make a remark or two about how close you've both gotten
^ (She then proceeds to infodump about how periods don't actually sync up due to proximity. Might even show you a medical study or two on the subject!)
Depending on when you call her, Yosano may or may not leave the agency to check in on you. If nobody's injured or if she's out shopping, she'll drop by just to make sure you're alright <3
She probably doesn't need to go buy you pads/tampons because she has some for herself that you can easily use?? But she's not opposed to buying more if needed
Yosano knows how bad cramps can be too, so if anybody tries to bother you about going to work she can and will rip someone in half
Buys your favorite takeout on her way home from work.. Of course, she reminds you to eat well during your period,, but she can't help but spoil you just a bit
Ranpo Edogawa:
This literal CHILD of a man acts like he's on his period too 😭 he whines so much if you ask him to do anything
He still gets everything you need, he's just complaining the entire damn time… But you'll praise him either way, right? Right??
Ranpo might have to ask someone else to buy snacks for you because if he does, he knows he'll eat like,,, half of them
If you call him while he's at work, he literally doesn't hesitate to leave. It's been so boring all day, so he'd rather spend time with you anyway!!
He'll go buy you pads or tampons if you ask, but uh,,, please make sure to text him what brand, because he'll just toss in one of each if he forgets </3
For all Ranpo’s whining during the day, as soon as he gets home he's ready to cuddle with you under the warmest blanket he can find. He will NOT take no for an answer, so get cozy!
Jun'ichirō Tanizaki:
Will give you cavities with how sweet he acts while you're menstruating. He's already the perfect boyfriend, but during your period he dials it up to a thousand
He's no stranger to periods and all the annoyances that come with them due to having a sister, so he's not at all fazed by any of it
He calls you from work instead of vice versa. “Hi, Love. No, no, just wanted to ask how you were doing! Need me to buy anything from the pharmacy? No? Are you sure you don't need me to-”
Honestly just tell Tanizaki to come over during his break or something, he'll be a nervous wreck if he goes without seeing you for a whole day </3
He buys you anything you need or want with a smile on his face the whole time!! He likes taking care of you
Cooks your favorite food for dinner, and it's literally perfectly made somehow?? You two end the day by enjoying your dinner snuggled up in bed and watching your favorite movie
🤍 : [ PLATONIC ]
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Naomi Tanizaki:
Zero complaints from her if you want her to stay over for the week, she'd be happy to help out! Though Junichiro might come over too sometimes (he'll cook, don't worry)
If anyone at the agency (Ahem, Dazai–) tries to bother you, Naomi chews them out with no mercy. NOBODY will call you for any reason other than to entertain you or ask if you need anything
Buys you anything you need without any fuss, it's not like monthly trips to the pharmacy are new for her. She'll stop by a local bakery to get you pastries, too
No work talk, nope! If you have any seriously pressing issues to get done with at work, she takes care of them (or makes her brother handle them)
Kenji Miyazawa:
If you need the fastest errand boy around, Kenji's the one to call for sure!
He's used to helping others out, so he has no problem buying you whatever you need and then delivering everything to you
Likes knowing he can be a dependable kid, even for mundane stuff like this. It honestly makes his day if you ask for his help
He'd offer to bring takeout or something to you, but he's sure that he might eat it before he even arrives at your home. He ends up just ordering delivery for you
Izumi Kyōka:
She has a map of the entire area memorized, so she can go store to store for anything you need and then drop it all off in under 30 minutes
However, Izumi does get distracted easily. If you give her some money to buy herself a snack too, then she's less likely to get sidetracked
Does whatever work you had for you, for the whole week. You don't need to ask, it's all taken care of already
If you call her a good kid for helping out, she'll walk with a skip in her step for at least a good few days after
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russellsppttemplates · 11 months ago
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I have it all right here (Lando Norris)
Matilda Norris makes her way earthside
Note: english is not my first language. It's dad!Lando, so you know I shrieked as soon as I saw this request ✨️
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: pregnancy, labour/birth, hospitals
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
"Lando", you called, shaking your husband as he slept peacefully next to you. For the past 24 hours, more than the rest of the pregnancy, he had been by your side since you kept feeling Braxton-Hicks contractions, doting on you as much as he could so you could be a little bit more comfortable.
He held you in his embrace as he whispered sweet things as you cried, feeling all of the emotions as you whispered "I feel like I've been pregnant for decades, Lando! And I can't do anything on my own", you hiccuped as he rubbed your back sweetly, "you're growing our babygirl until she's ready to come and meet us, that's not nothing, my love", he would soothe, kissing your head multiple times as the pressure on your lower belly increased.
"Are you having Braxton-Hicks again?", he mumbled groggily, rolling over to face you after turning his bedside lamp on.
"I think these are real contractions, like, the ones I actually have when I'm in labour", you smiled.
"How are you feeling? Do they hurt a lot?", he wondered. It was amazing how his brain could switch on like that, going from sleepy to fully aware in seconds.
"It feels like really bad period cramps, but they're definitely worse than what I've felt these past couple of days", you reasoned, cuddling into his open arms, "you know this means we're that little bit closer to meeting her, right?", you tried to shift his attention, failing miserably as he grabbed his phone, "we should track them, so we know when to go to the hospital", he opened the app and propped the phone by your face so you could tap the screen.
"I'm good, love", you tranquilized, touching his temple lovingly, "I'm actually excited! We're going to meet our babygirl soon!".
Sure, there had been moments where you didn't feel amazing, morning sickness that lasted all day, tears that came out of nowhere when you felt like you had been pregnant for the longest time ever, pain in you back and hips and not being able to do things like you used to. But it was so worth it. You had created a new life with the love of your life and although she wasn't planned, it didn't mean that she wasn't wanted or loved. Much to the contrary, you and Lando loved that little girl so much already, as well as everyone else around you, falling in love the minute they saw your ultrasound.
When they started feeling too much for you, Lando moved you both to the shower, supporting your hips as you swayed from side to side, the warm water from the shower practically erasing the pressure for now, "this probably will be the last time in a while that I'll be naked with you and you won't find me weird", you blushed.
Your husband quickly tutted, "no way I'll find you weird, you're so beautiful, Y/N. You're my wife, the mother of my babygirl, you're making me a father, and I will never look at you and think anything less that you're gorgeous, amazing and unstoppable", he added, looking for your eyes and ensuring the message got through to you, "you're the best, Lando", you smiled, kissing his lips before wiping your hands on the towell, tapping the screen to stop the count for the contraction as a message popped up, "it says it is a good time to follow up with the midwife as they're coming closer together", you showed him.
Helping you out and getting dressed in a comfy dress, the sun was rising outside as you bounced on your ball while Lando called the midwife, "Hi, Amelia! It's Lando, did you see our texts? Y/N seems to be in labour", you heard him say on the phone, fingers close to his mouth as he bit his nails nervously while giving her as much information as he knew.
"She says she will be waiting for us at the hospital", Lando informed as he stored his phone in his pocket, "what is missing from the bags?".
"Hmm, phone chargers for both of our phones, the pregnancy pillow - I think it's in our bed -, and I think that's it, the rest has already been packed", you smiled, rubbing your bump, "we need to bring the ball but I'll only let you take this away from me when we go to the car.
"C'mon, my love, easy easy", Lando guided you, hand on the small of your back as you walked to the car, "I can do this on my own, you know that, right?", you giggled, "holding his hand as he opened the door for you, "I know you can, doesn't mean that I don't want to help you or be here in case something happens", he charmed, making sure you were sitting as comfortably as you could.
Running back inside, Lando got all the bags and brought them to the car, closing the trunk and meeting you in the front, "Let's go have a baby", he said, kissing your cheek before switching the car into gear.
Driving to the hospital was fine, making you think that if you could, you should give birth while Lando drove you around as it was the calmest you had seen him since your contractions started.
"Let's not worry until, and if, we have to, okay?", Lando nudged at you, driving into the parking lot and seeing Amelia waving at you.
Taking a deep breath, you took off your seatbelt once the car was parked and opened the door, "Good morning! Y/N, how are we doing this morning?", she smiled, helping you get out as Lando thanked the nurse that had joined you to carry the bags.
"I'm good, although these are getting serious now", you breathed through, accepting Amelia's hand.
"I'm going to park the car and then I'll join you upstairs, okay?", Lando said, kissing your forehead sweetly, "I'll be quick, baby, you won't even notice I'm gone", he smiled.
After checking you in and going up to your room, Amelia helped you into the hospital gown as she introduced the rest of the team you hadn't met yet, "my husband should be here any mi- oh, there he is!", you pointed to the curly haired man asking one of the nurses for you.
"I'm here, I'm here!", he said, breathing in, "I'm Lando, the husband, and father to the little one", he introduced himself, greeting everyone in the room before coming to sit next to you, "need help with anything?", he noticed you fumbling with the sleeves, folding them as Amelia explained what they were expecting to happen and what they would do.
As everyone else left the room, Lando helped you go back to bounce on the ball, grabbing a stool with wheels so he could be at the same level, "are they getting bad?", he questioned. Your eyebrows furrowed more than they relaxed and your eyes were shut most of the time.
Smiling at his voice, you opened your eyes, "they're getting closer now, stronger too. Bouncing isn't as effective as it was when we were home, so we either move to the big drugs or we have to find something else to help", you wiggled your eyebrows.
"We still have all of those stretches to go through, I also remember that one article about how touches just out-", you were quick to slap his arm, "your hands are not going anywhere near the downstairs region, oh, no no no, mister. As much as I believe your fingers could work their magic, I don't want you to be around the area that's going to stretch and push a human out. Not today, baby, not today", you threatened lightly, joking with him despite knowing he genuinely had the best intentions.
"Mum sends her well wishes and a bunch of pink ballons", Lando showed you the text message in the family group chat, seeing your face contort in pain, "hey, do you want to move to the bed or walk around a little bit?", he suggested.
"I want up", you said, holding your arms out so he could support you as someone knocked on the door, "hello Y/N, we came in here to check your dilation. Is that okay?", Amelia asked, putting on gloves.
"I just got up", you sighed, not wanting to sit or lie down again, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so rude", you looked up, "where do you need me?".
"Standing up is fine, dear", Amelia crouched down, "I'm just going to touch you", she informed, doing so before coming back up, "you're at 7 cm, dear! You're progressing very well. And, Y/N, we're here to make this as comfortable as possible for you, you don't have to apologise for voicing your needs".
Your husband crouched down, searching for your eyes and hoping to see what you needed through them when you bent, "Here, lean on me, gorgeous", Lando urged, standing straight and grabbing your arms and lacing them around his neck, hands joint on the nape of his neck as you allowed your hips to loosen and allow your abdomen to rest a little too, gravity doing its thing. For anyone else, you included, this would've been a band-aid fix until you fell down, your legs not taking in the force and collapsing soon, but luckily for you, your husband was an athlete with unusually good neck strength so, for a good while, this would work.
"Is that nice?", he wondered, checking in if this position wasn't at the very least hurting and causing you even more pain.
"It's good, yes", you breathed out, syncing with him as you looked up him, your chin resting just below his sternum, "hey there", he whispered as his soft tone brought a smile to your face, almost numbing all the pressure you felt.
"Hey", you blushed as you felt his gaze on you even though he was not looking or concerned about anyone else in that room other than you and his little girl, "I don't know why we've never done this before, I'm actually comfortable", you joked, "glad we found out sooner than later, we can adopt this greeting from here on", he joked back, a little relieved that you were feeling a little bit better.
"I want up, again", you groaned, "I feel like pushing, and I don't know if I can, call someone, please", you asked Lando as you walked about the room once he helped you to stand, ringing the bell, "you're doing so well, love, so so so well", he whispered, holding you as you swayed from side to side.
"Y/N! Do you think it's time?", the OB asked, "I feel like I have to push, but I'm afraid of doing something wrong, so I need someone to check and make sure I'm not doing something bad for me or for my baby", you explained, humming as she approached you.
"It's time to push, Y/N!", the OB winked at you as she put her gloves on, "do you know how you want to do this?", she questioned.
"Can I have him behind me? My back is killing me but I don't want to sit", you tried your best to explain the vision you had in your head.
Lando was quick to push your back gently against his chest as the nurses and Amelia covered the floor around you with disposable covers, "you can hold her by placing your arms under hers - yes, like that -, that way Y/N can let her body do what it needs to do", she guided as Lando held you under your armpits, hands lacing on your chest, "you've got this, my love", he whispered.
"When you feel the contraction, just push and go along with it!", she urged as she sat in position to catch your baby. You allowed your body to fall against your husband, hoping his strength wouldn't fail you now.
Your body urged you to push and you did what it told you, faintly feeling Lando's lips on your sweaty forehead as he whispered words of encouragement while you pushed, "just a little more, I promise, gorgeous, you're doing so well bringing Tilly to us", he said.
Five big pushes and your baby girl was earthside in Amelia's arms, and with a few wiggles, baby Matilda let out her first cry.
"Should we lay Iin the bed now, mummy?", one of the nurses asked as she helped Lando move you to the bed right next to you as they cut the chord.
"Here's your babygirl, congratulations!", she said, putting the little human on your chest after you let one of the sleeves drop so her skin touched yours, "hello, my love, we're your mummy and daddy", you cooed, tears falling from your eyes as you touched her cheeks, kissing her fingers as she seemed to noticed her movements had a little bit more freedom now.
"Hey, beautiful girl", Lando hiccuped, not having two cares in the world that he was crying in a room full of people. He only cared about you, rubbing your shoulder, and the little baby on your chest. His daughter.
"Now we're gonna need to take this little girl to check everything while you deliver the placenta alright?", one of the nurses said and you extended your arms so she could grab him, "I'll stay her with her, if that's okay", Lando checked.
"We'll do it here, you'll still be in the same room", she smiled as she moved to the counter on the side of the room, pulling out the materials she needed like the measuring tape, a scale and such.
"I'll just be in the way there", he said with loving (and still a bit teary) eyes, "I love you so much, baby. Thank you for this, thank you, thank you", Lando said, brushing the hair away from your eyes.
"Thank you for not letting me give up, and for letting me use you like monkey bars in the playground", you smiled, puckering your lips so he would take the hint and kiss them.
The moment Matilda was placed back in her daddy's arms and chest, Lando was sure he would do anything in the world that he needed to do to make sure his family was safe and happy. He vowed to always be there whenever you and his daughter needed, to support you everytime even if he wasn't physically close and to always love you both, no matter what.
"You look so much like mummy, gorgeous girl", he whispered, "you have her chubby cheeks, her nose, although hers is not as button like as yours, but the resemblance is there. You're so loved, babygirl. You have so many uncles waiting to shower you with kisses and presents, grandparents that can't wait to meet you. And me and mummy have wanted you for so long. It wasn't, maybe, in a timing we figured would be best, but the more we thought about it, the more we figured that maybe there wouldn't have been a great timing ever, so your surprise was the best one, ever. I met your mummy because of our work, or part of what I do as well, you'll soon find out. She's so strong, just like you, eh?", he chuckled as she held his finger in her fist with the reflexive tight grip, "and she's kind, persistent, so intelligent, and I hope you get all of those traits, too. You're our dreams come true, Matilda", he said as he kissed her forehead, making her scrunch deliciously against his naked chest.
"How's everyone in here?", Amelia asked after she knocked on the door, to which you replied after the noise woke you up, "we're doing good, the food helped a lot, thank you", referring to the tray of food they brought you as you had barely gotten any sleep since the day before and did not have much of an appetite during labour.
"Now we should see this little one's tummy, if that's okay. Because any minute now I think she'll be hungry", she asked as Lando put on a shirt after placing your daughter on your chest.
Uncovering your chest after joking about everyone in the room having been all in the up in there and how it wasn't a boob flashing that was going to compromise you further, you urged your babygirl to latch on your nipple.
"Alright, let's get this baby to latch, shall we? I'm probably going to have to touch you if that's okay", the nurse said while you nodded, "C'mon, little one, you can't be too lazy about this, it's right there ready for you!", she smiled as she touched her cheek, the reflex immediate as she suckled, "Good job, Matilda", she whispered, looking at your vitals.
"And you, Y/N? How are you feeling?", she questioned as she registered the numbers on her iPad, "I'm good, a little tired, but otherwise fine and very much in love", you blushed, touching Matilda's cheek.
"Lando?", Amelia finally asked, bringing Lando out of his focus as he watched you and your daughter.
Sighing, Lando had the look of love, as Max would often tell him whenever his eyes glossed over and he had the biggest smile on his face, "I'm on cloud nine. I have both of my girls finally with me, they're well and they're healthy. I'm on cloud nine, indeed, I don't need anything else. I have it all right here".
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matchingbatbites · 4 months ago
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Wiggly 🧠🪱 Wednesday Thursday!
I was tagged by the ever so kind @runninriot, thank you!! I haven't been tagged in one of these yet
This is something that's been spinning in my brain for a lil bit, and I had to throw it under a readmore because at some point it shifted from thought to ficlet, so.
TW: Stalking, romanticization of stalking
Steve has always been unlucky in love. He's dated around a good bit but hasn't found anyone willing to settle down and start a life with. It's disappointing and disheartening, and he's ready to give up on dating for a while when he meets Eddie.
The guy is a new member at Steve's gym; he asks for some help on his first day there and tells Steve that he's trying to bulk up a little. Steve helps him out, because he's nice like that, and he and Eddie get to talking.
Eddie is super nice, and a huge nerd, but he's always willing to explain the stuff he talks about because Steve is so patient with Eddie during their workouts - because that becomes a thing, having a regular workout buddy.
After a few weeks Eddie asks him out, and though it catches Steve off guard, he agrees. He's pleasantly surprised when it's great, actually, and when Eddie asks him to be his boyfriend after a couple of weeks, he happily accepts.
Eddie is the perfect boyfriend, and he may be the best partner Steve has ever had. He's attentive, he's always bringing lunch and treats to Steve at work, and he never seems to hold back his affection for any reason. It's refreshing, and Steve finds himself falling fast for the man.
So it's surprising when, a few months into their relationship, a woman approaches him at work, claiming to be one of Eddie's friends. He does recognize her name, but when she tells him what she found, he isn't sure what to think.
Chrissy explains that Eddie's been stalking him for months, long before they actually met; tells him about the folders of photos and screenshots and videos she found hidden away on Eddie's phone and computer. Says that Eddie is like a brother to her, but she's worried about his behavior and concerned for Steve's safety.
Steve listens, of course, to everything Chrissy says. He thanks her once she's done, and spends the next day thinking about it all, how he feels about the fact that the man he's been dating is an absolute creep.
Even so, Eddie's only ever been kind to Steve, hasn't given him any reason to not trust him. Fuck, he's been the best partner Steve's ever had, and the thought of losing him is more upsetting than what Chrissy told him.
It should be worrying that the whole situation doesn't scare him the way it probably should.
When he goes over to Eddie's place the next night, he brings it up. Eddie goes pale when Steve tells him about Chrissy's visit, about what she relayed to him. He's trembling by the time Steve recounts it all.
"I'm sorry. It's- You're so beautiful, and I wasn't planning on ever talking to you, I didn't think you'd ever go for someone like me. I was gonna keep my distance, I swear, but even when you were dating someone, you seemed so lonely. I couldn't just stand by, not when I could maybe do something about it. I just wanted to give you a friend- another friend, someone other than Robin you could rely on. I should have known I wouldn't be able to keep my feelings in check."
That falls in line with the man Steve has come to know, Eddie's heart on his sleeve and his care for others at the forefront of his mind. The fact that he was stalking Steve for months seems like an afterthought in the face of knowing that he was more worried about Steve being lonely than he was about staying in the shadows.
"Do you love me?"
"What?"
"Do you love me?" Steve asks again, insistent as he leans in, shrinking the space between them. "Or is this just a temporary obsession? Now that you have me, are you going to lose interest and leave?"
"No!" Eddie's hands snap out like he wants to grab hold of Steve, but stops himself at the last second. "No, I don't- I'm so obsessed with you, sweetheart. I've never felt like this before, and if you want me to fuck off out of your life then I will, but- if you let me, I'll spend the rest of my life being devoted to you."
There's a pause of silence before Steve gives a sharp nod.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Eddie, all I've wanted in life is a partner who loves me. I know I should probably be running for the hills, fuck, I should probably be calling the police."
The color that had returned to Eddie's face drains again, and Steve reaches out to take his hand. "I want you to be obsessed with me, Eds. The whole stalking thing doesn't bother me because it's me. I want someone who's crazy about me enough to stay."
"I don't think you were banking on literally crazy, though."
"Mm, not really. But I think it works for us. Now come on," he says and stands, tugging Eddie up with a grin. "I want you to show me just how obsessed you are with me."
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brain-rot-central · 4 months ago
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Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal, Ch. 8
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A/N: *Dead Dove: Do Not Eat* I probably should have added that tag a while ago. I apologize for not having done so up until this point. Major tw: depictions/references of alcoholism, trauma, abuse, PTSD, panic attacks. This chapter is a mess. I'm so sorry. It's like I bet myself how much darker can I get with each chapter, lmao. Proceed with caution.
Rating: Explicit (due to the themes, really. No smut this chapter.) Word count: 6k Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Tav (DU, named) Warnings: 18+, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, implied alcohol abuse, trauma, past abuse, PTSD, depictions of physical abuse, unhealthy relationship Summary: Astarion readies himself for the ball, then heads to retrieve Tav. A tumultuous heart-to-heart ensues.
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‘She’s voicing doubts, my lord. How shall I proceed?’
He impatiently taps his nails against the wood of the dresser. With his other hand, Astarion brings a glass of wine to his lips. He’s chosen a mellow red for this evening; smooth going down with just the slightest bite at the back of the tongue.
‘Push forward and ignore them,’ he responds through the telepathic bond. ‘Continue getting her ready.’
There’s a brief pause before Magdalena’s response comes through.
‘As you wish, Lord Ancunín.’
Astarion severs the connection abruptly.
Taking a quick sip of wine, he places the glass on top of the dresser and sighs. Warmth blooms within his chest as crimson liquid travels down his esophagus. It's almost reminiscent of blood he's supped upon:
Her blood. The sweetest substance to have ever graced his poisoned tongue.
Astarion lifts the sleeves of his shirt and picks up a bottle of cologne on the dresser, uncorking its stopper. He tilts the bottle and dabs it gently on his left wrist. Placing the bottle back down on the bureau, Astarion rubs his wrists one over the other, spreading the scent evenly. It's his signature blend for over two centuries, the recipe little changed. He taps the mouth of the bottle lightly with the pads of his fingers, then brings them to the delicate skin behind his ears.
There's one thing that’s undeniable, even to him. He's nervous. Terribly, terribly nervous. He hasn't felt this out of control in months. Tav’s proximity is impacting him in ways he hadn't anticipated. It's intoxicating, suffocating. She's all he can think about.
How to keep her happy, wanting. To stay within her good graces.
She’s seen too much far too soon. Perhaps Astarion would have revealed everything to her in time, but certainly not at this point. Not when everything is still so fresh between them. And now that she's voicing doubts, he wants nothing more than to perform as much damage control as possible.
Her departure is simply not an option. Unless it's on agreeable terms.
Astarion is a horrid planner. It's a miracle he's stuck to this current one, though having to adjust his plan so early is distressing. It feels as though he's grasping at straws. Barely keeping his head above water. That isn't a place he enjoys being.
Tav will speak with Wyll tonight, and he's nervous. So terribly nervous of how Wyll will try souring his name. Slip a slow, creeping venom into Tav's mind, poisoning her thoughts. Astarion is nervous that all he's put into repairing the frayed bond he and Tav share will be undone by this single conversation.
He pulls down his sleeves and shrugs his shoulders, giving himself a look in the mirror. He's chosen a loose maroon dress shirt for the evening, a few buttons undone at the top and the hem tucked in. A pair of black dress slacks held fast by a black belt with a silver buckle, and brown leather shoes complete his ensemble. He draws a deep breath in, exhaling with a slight shake of his head.
It dawns on him that he isn't exactly sure what his end goal is. To charm Tav back into his arms, yes. But what else? Does he wish for more, or to keep this casual?
No.
The nonchalance of this affair stopped after the third night. 
When she held his face to hers–their foreheads pressed together as they shared the same air–Astarion knew. The shopkeeper below Tav's loft banged viciously on the ceiling, shouting muffled expletives through the floor. But Astarion was beyond caring. He sang as loud as Tav did, greedily drinking her moans as though the centuries-long hunger still consumed him.
This is very much a thing. A very real thing.
Feelings he'd hoped to have lost are involved, left over from before the ascension. He’s not happy to admit it, but it would be foolish to deny their existence.
The remnants of him. 
The sad, pitiful spawn. Groveling in the dirt, forced onto his back by the whim of another. How truly misguided his trust had been at the hour of his death. Astarion shakes his head free of the thought before it can warp further.
Yet, a sinking reality sets in.
That's who she wants, though… isn't it? 
The man he was? There's little chance Tav feels for him now. She may never again, not after all she's seen. 
This provokes another thought to come forward.
Did she ever want him beyond what his body could offer? He's almost sure of it, but most importantly…
Why does he care now?
There are times when he looks into her eyes that Astarion almost sees it. The classic look she gives only to him. The one that makes his knees falter and his heart race. The longing laced within her gaze. It makes him wish he could sequester her back to his chamber and have her sing his name, his praises, until the sun comes up.
Astarion would willingly be her protector. The fulfiller of all her wishes. He would make it abundantly clear how none of what he has could have been possible without her. How he wishes to share all of this with her. He will do anything, everything, to prove that to her.
Everything, aside from admitting one small thing. And as he gazes into the mirror, Astarion rolls his eyes and scoffs.
Love.
What a foolish concept.
He picks up a silver chain necklace from the bureau and fastens it around his neck. Rubies adorn the solid silver pendant of the necklace and Astarion adjusts it to hang between the open lapels of his shirt, against his bare chest. The metal is cool as it lays against his skin. It's only then that he realizes how flushed he is. 
How his heart jumps in his throat.
Astarion reaches for the glass of wine once more, stealing another sip. The sting on the back of his tongue soothes the ache. For now.
His dagger, Rhapsody, is the last item to prepare. Originally owned by a corrupt master, but taken as a spoil of war. It's dull now and essentially for show, but he cares not. Astarion stows a separate sharpened blade on his outer ankle at all times, hidden by the length of his trousers; a habit left over from his past life. He secures the dagger's holster around his left thigh, attaching it to his belt, then slips the blade within.
Tav will be on his right arm when they make their entrance. That's at least what he has planned.
Brushing a few stray hairs into place, Astarion gives himself a final look in the mirror. Satisfied, he chokes back the remainder of the wine he's been nursing all evening, slamming the glass down hard onto the dresser. 
A glimmer of light jumps in his periphery as his fist connects with the wood and Astarion looks. A golden ring with a turquoise gemstone sits within a clear case, nestled within a bed of velvet.
True Love’s Caress. 
The ring Tav gave to him, so long ago.
Astarion quickly opens the case, slipping the ring onto the fourth finger of his left hand, and heads out into the hall. As he walks down the long corridor toward Tav’s room, he nods absently at those he sees along the way.
His chest begins to burn, his mind growing clouded.
Why does he care if she stays? Does he really need her? Ultimately, no. But…
Astarion has unlimited wealth and resources. A plethora of lords and ladies would all but collapse at his feet for an opportunity to become his betrothed. Throw in the chance of eternal life, and that list is bound to grow exponentially.
He doesn't notice the speed in which he's barreling down the hall until he almost walks face first into a silver tray holding freshly cut fruit, carried by an unsuspecting servant. “M-my apologies, my lord!” the young woman gasps, clamoring for control over the tray as it sways in her hands.
Astarion doesn't recall ever seeing this one before. Magdalena is responsible for the staffing of the palace. Regardless, he raises a hand and gives the young woman a short bow in apology, continuing on his way.
His vision sways as the wine finally takes hold.
No, he doesn't necessarily need Tavaria. He’d go about his time just fine without her. But… would he enjoy it? Would he be satisfied?
Astarion stops dead in his tracks, clenching his fists hard enough for his nails to bite into the skin of his palms.
…Does he want for this?
No, he couldn't possibly. He's the vampire ascendant! The most powerful vampire lord to have ever lived. The waking dream of all his kind. He wants for nothing. Has no need of groveling in the dirt. The world is his playground, and he will take whatever it is he desires. It's what he's owed after two hundred years of shit.
Pure shit.
The gods turned their backs on him during his most desperate hour of need. They'll have little choice but to acknowledge him now.
No, Tav should be thanking him for being so generous as to give her a second chance. Another opportunity of having every decadence life has to offer handed to her. Wealth, power, pleasure. So much pleasure that she needn’t ask for it ever again. Astarion would see to that personally.
If she chooses wisely.
He straightens his posture and gives his head a quick shake, strengthening his resolve.
She will. One way or another, she will fall back into his arms.
Astarion knows she's afflicted with the same sickness he has. Tav’s heart gallops when he draws near. Her blood sings, her breath halts. He can almost hear the way her skin calls for the icy pierce of his fangs. Smell the desire that burns deep within her to be well and truly his.
She will succumb to his song. 
She will be his consort. 
They will spend eternity in each other's arms.
Though his resolve fades quickly as his feet finally bring him before Tav’s door. Nervous energy surges through him again. It fights for dominance against the sedating alcohol coursing through his body. And for a passing moment, he feels faint. 
Astarion clears his throat and rolls his shoulders, giving a quick surveillance of his surroundings. 
No one else is within this end of the manor. It’s only them.
With some trepidation, Astarion lifts a hand, placing three soft raps against the wooden door with the back of his knuckle, the ring around his finger catching his eye. 
And he waits.
His elven ears then pick up the faint sound of shuffling from behind the door. “Is that you, Magdalena?” comes Tav’s muffled voice.
“No, it's only me, darling,” Astarion replies with as much composure as he can muster. When he hears rustling within the bedroom, he quickly adds, “Take your time. There's no rush.” 
As he awaits for her to open the door, thoughts from earlier begin to resurface. 
Should she refuse his offer still, despite all he's done… What, then? What more is there to do? Not much, he feels. 
And at that point, when all other options have been exhausted…
Well… she’d be forcing his hand, then.
Wouldn't she?
The door suddenly opens, and the sight of her makes his breath grow cold within his chest. Tav is wearing the emerald dress he'd commissioned for her and the pair of golden shoes he'd sent. Her long, auburn hair cascades down her sun-freckled shoulders in loose, wavy ringlets. But what makes Astarion’s breath cease lay across her forehead.
Her soft, sweeping bangs have transported him back to the crash site of the Nautiloid, to when they first met. And every night thereafter, when she'd inevitably slink her way over to his tent to steal a word. Or several. 
How she'd style them differently day after day. Play with them if they were to broach an uncomfortable subject. The way she'd dip her head to hide behind them in an effort to play coy.
Astarion remembers how they'd cling to her sweat-soaked brow as she called his name over and over again from below him, rendering him completely and utterly helpless to resist her. How he'd brush them to the side to rest his head directly against hers. Placed gentle kisses to the top of her brow after they finished.
“Rather bold to cut your hair the night of an event, eh?” he remarks with a chuckle.
Tav shrugs in response. “Just felt like something I needed to do.” Her expression is flat as she steps out of the doorway, ushering him in.
As he steps into the bedroom, Astarion gives her a small smile, nervous energy peaking once more. He notices the tennis necklace he sent her clutched in her hand, and he winces. “Have you found everything to your liking?” he asks, curiously.
Tav shuts the bedroom door behind them, then walks to the vanity. Her back is to him as she says, “Oh, yes, everything is absolutely beautiful.” There's a small crack in her voice. 
Something is troubling her.
Astarion sighs, anticipating the turn the conversation is taking. “I get the feeling there's a ‘but’ coming, here,” he states exasperatedly.
Tav shakes her head, now turning toward him. “No, it's not that.” She looks at her hands, running the necklace between her fingers. “I… I wanted to talk candidly about what happened in the crypts.”
“I don't understand what more of a discussion could be had,” Astarion spits, defensively. He did what she asked. What more is there to say?
Her bottom lip trembles as she pulls it between her teeth. Tav places the bracelet down on the counter and draws in a deep breath. She then lifts her head to face him.
Astarion does not like where this is going.
“When I encouraged you to show those men mercy…” her voice trails off. She's seemingly lost in thought for moment before she continues, “...you killed them.” Tav shakes her head in disbelief, eyes blinking rapidly. “You killed them, Astarion.”
He furrows his brow in question. “Were you hoping for a different outcome?”
“No,” Tav says with another shake of her head. “No, I knew that's what you'd do.” Tav meets his eyes again with an intense gaze. “But I didn't quite understand why until after.”
…Oh. 
She caught that, did she? 
He shouldn't be so surprised. Tav always pieces together everything he doesn't wish to say. It's maddening, how he can never hide from her. Though, in a way… It's comforting. To have someone see him. 
The real him.
“Do you…” her voice fades again, but she takes a deep breath and pushes forward. “Do you still feel that way?” Tav asks, voice small. “About yourself?”
Astarion draws a large breath through his nose and crosses his arms over his chest. For a moment, he doesn't speak. His mind scrambles for the appropriate words, alongside a fitting delivery. 
Once he finds it, Astarion says, “Not anymore, no. That feeling died when Cazador did.” The name feels like a shard of ice through his chest as it tumbles forward, but it's a momentary pain that fades as quickly as it comes.
An awkward silence hangs like thick fog about the air. They're still looking at one another, and Astarion notices a glossy sheen to Tav’s eyes.
“...What replaced it?” Tav asks in a voice still barely above a whisper.
He knows what replaced that feeling, but it's not something she needs to know right now.
Bitterness.
Bitterness is what replaced the feeling of hopelessness Astarion carried for two centuries. All of his anger. Spite. Unrest, for the poor card life had given him for so many years. How he screamed, and screamed, and screamed for someone, anyone to hear him. To pull him from his waking nightmare.
No one ever did.
Until her.
Tavaria was the only one who extended a hand to him. The only one who found him worth saving. Who listened to him. Gave even a sliver of a shit to see him.
And it dawns on him then that she truly did care for him. Found more worth to him beyond what his body could give her.
But it terrifies him to know that she sees everything. Astarion will never be able to hide for long, if they're together. She knows him too well–understands things about him that he doesn't quite get himself. He will never have full control of their dynamic. She will always be a step ahead of him, and he'll be dashing behind her to catch up. 
It will be a nightmare for him.
But, gods… How his heart still aches for her. Longs for her to hold him within her embrace.
“I'm not quite sure, my dear,” is Astarion's crafted reply. He speaks with ease, shifting his weight to the opposite hip. “I tend not to dwell on it much, these days.”
It's a lie, but one small enough to hopefully get her off his back. And it seems to work, at least for now. Tav grows quiet, dropping her eyes to the floor. Her hands work quickly again, fingers rubbing over one another.
Gesturing to the necklace on the vanity with a wave of his hand, Astarion says, “May I help you with that?” He outstretches a hand in her direction–an invitation for her to place the tennis necklace within his palm.
Tav blinks up at him. With a nod, she picks up the necklace and hands it to Astarion. She turns around to face the mirror, clasping her hands together over her abdomen.
He unhooks the necklace and steps behind her swiftly. Astarion gently sweeps her hair free off her shoulder, Tav reaching up to hold it out of the way for him. As her hair lifts, the smell of lavender and pine wafts about the air: two of the scents he had crafted just for her. Reminiscent of their first night together in the clearing within the forest.
Astarion's arms come up above her head, falling feather-light to lay the jewelry across her chest. He steals a glance of them both in the mirror. Light from a candle reflects off the diamond studded earrings he's given her.
And then, it suddenly hits him.
He does want this. Yearns for more. There's a twist deep within his chest as he fastens the jewelry around the column of her throat, reaching up to move her hair back in place. The backs of his hands glide smoothly against her shoulders as he drops his hands. Astarion moves his face to the softness of her hair and plants a kiss, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose. The scent of her overwhelms his senses. His head spins as he closes his eyes, finding solace in the quiet intimacy of the moment.
“...Astarion...”
He opens his eyes and finds Tav’s face again within the mirror, full with worry. With one hand she plays with the necklace, twisting it between her fingertips. “...Did you ever love me?” she asks, voice quivering.
The sound of her heart pounds in his ears. The rush of her blood is a quartet cascading toward a triumphant crescendo. It's so quick it can almost be mistaken for two distinct heartbeats as he beats against his eardrums. Astarion's heart then pounds in tandem with hers, head growing light. Heat creeps under his skin and his vision narrows.
Love.
He positively loathes the word. The feeling. The sentiment.
It makes his skin crawl. Hands claw at his neck. A knife carving deep into his back. The room grows silent and then he's slipping, far back into the recesses of his mind.
‘I write this poem of love for you, my son. For all my children.’
A high pitched scream rings loudly against the stone walls of the kennels. Godey stands watch, bones rattling as he comes forward to reinforce the shackles around Astarion's arms and legs.
Rhapsody drags across his back, slicing into delicate porcelain skin. Astarion feels rivulets of cool liquid running down his back, and when the scent of iron reaches his nose, he realizes it's his blood pouring onto the mattress below.
Cazador raises the blood-soaked blade to his face, swiping his tongue against the flat edge. He groans in satisfaction as the crimson essence fills his mouth, then sets the dagger to work once more.
Astarion screams as his flesh parts again, a new rune being carved.
‘With this, we will forever be connected,’ Cazador explains. ‘You will always be mine.’
Astarion steps back, dragging a hand across his face. He feels the ever-present demon that sleeps within threatening to surface. An overwhelming sense of dread grips him tight. “...You know how I feel about that word,” he insists, hoping desperately that she'll drop this conversation before it's too late.
Tav meets his gaze through the mirror. Astarion watches the movement of her throat as she swallows. “But did you?” She then turns her whole body to meet him directly. “Did he?”
He. Him. The man he used to be. Not the man who stands before her, now.
Astarion's lips curl into a dangerous smile, a snicker rumbling through his chest. “There it is,” he remarks with sarcasm. He raises a hand and points a single finger into the air, wagging it back and forth. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to bring him up again.” He's beginning to feel more like himself again; further from tipping over the edge.
Tav’s expression sours and she shrugs her shoulders. “Can you blame me, Astarion? At least I knew where I stood with him.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “You feel akin to a stranger, now.”
Pain grips him as her words split wide through his chest, plunging him back down the path of what seems to be an inevitable crash. “I certainly am not, my dear, ” Astarion says. His voice is even despite the storm raging within. “I haven't been for quite some time.”
Then, he sees them: the tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. 
Shit, he curses to himself. This is not what he wants–not what he needs. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, please don't cry–
“Then why do you seem so different?” Tav squeaks, trying to stave off her sobs. “Why can I no longer feel the warmth of your heart?”
Then, they fall. Hard. And the walls he's fought so hard to keep up collapse inward.
…Fuck.
Astarion can hardly stomach the thought of having hurt her, let alone see physical proof. Her makeup is ruined. Mascara runs down her cheeks. Tears cut streaks through her foundation. Tav covers her face with her hands and briskly turns away, choosing to stand near the door leading out onto the balcony.
Each choked sob from Tav sends a jolt of electric shooting across his chest. “Tavaria…” Astarion whispers. He approaches gently from behind, maintaining distance. “Come now, darling; you know that's not true. I’m right here, as I've always been.”
Control. He must regain control of this situation.
She plants her palms flat against the glass door and she sucks in a gasp. Her head hangs down between her shoulders. “You're not,” Tav argues. “This is not the man I know.” Astarion observes as she shakes her head. Turning to him, she dabs her eyes with the back of her hand. “This is not the man I fell in love with. Who loved me.”
“Tav–”
“This is a man who fears love. Operates off of obsession. Who is jealous,” she remarks angrily, voice rising. “You give me the illusion of freedom, Astarion, but this is hardly freedom.” Tav raises a hand and sweeps it across the room. “You've given me nothing but a gilded cage to fly about in!”
The sharp edge of her tongue cuts deep once more. But this time, a sudden flare of rage rises within and he rushes forward. “Do you think I would do this for anyone else?” Astarion stands face to face with her, nostrils flaring with heavy breath. “Share all of this with a common fool off the street?!”
“Then say it!” Tav roars back, entire body shaking. Tears still fall from her eyes, but Astarion can tell they're more from frustration than pain. “Fucking hells, Astarion. Just fucking say it already!”
Drawing in a breath, Astarion blinks, stepping back slightly. He's suddenly warm. Very, very warm. But a chil thenl shoots up his spine.
He… does love her. Loves this. 
Wants to hold her forever in this room, suspended in this moment for the rest of eternity. She's beautiful–so godsdamned beautiful–as she stares at him, bewildered. 
But he can't touch her. Not more than he already has. Anything more is sacrilege, tainted. He'll ruin it. Ruin her. Ruin everything.
Though… this is what she's asking of him…
Right?
And truth be told, Astarion wants to delve deeper. He longs to dig through her chest and curl alongside her heart, forever. Tav made her home so long ago within his. 
He wants her to come home–come back to him.
Astarion swallows thickly as he asks, “...What do you think we are?” He's doing his best to keep his voice even, despite feeling like his heart is in his mouth. If this is his chance to win her back, he'll take it. He'll finally show her his heart.
“Gods, Astarion; I don't know,” Tav answers, flustered. She throws her hands up. “Lovers, perhaps?”
A sharp pain grips his chest accompanied by a head rush. Astarion becomes acutely aware of just how fast his heart is beating. “And what do you want us to be?” he asks in a hushed tone.
Tav holds his gaze for a moment, then drops her focus to the floor. “Astarion…” She rests a hand over the emerald fabric of the dress, rubbing circular patterns into her stomach. “I… Gods, this is pointless,” Tav states abruptly, dashing toward the washroom door.
But as Tav passes, Astarion reaches swiftly to clasp a hand around her upper arm. The grip isn't tight enough to leave an impression, though it prevents her from continuing forward. 
“What do you want us to be, Tavaria?” Astarion reiterates, sternly. “I'm not letting go without an answer.” 
The adrenaline is setting in and his vision begins to narrow. Sound slowly fades from his ears, replaced by thunderous clashes of his heart against his ribcage. Tav lifts her face to address him. Astarion meets her gaze and his breath runs cold.
“...I want him,” Tav confesses. Her green eyes are glossy with tears threatening to spill over again, and there's a flush to her entire face. “Gods, I miss us, Astarion.”
Finally, the dam gives way again, alongside the last shreds of his resolve.
Astarion laughs haughtily, throwing his head back with a howl. She sheds tears for the sniveling coward he once was, and none for the man who stands beside her.
How silly of him to think he could bare anything to her.
“Tch,” Astarion scoffs, releasing his hold on her arm, “Of course you'd prefer the version of me that had no choice but to lay on his back should his master command it.”
Tav narrows her gaze and takes a few steps away from Astarion, wiping her tears once more with the back of a hand. “I don’t want to control you, Astarion,” she sniffles. “What have I done that proves I mean you harm?”
He then laughs again.
Enraged, Astarion surges forward. “Oh, my dear, you're guilty of the ultimate betrayal!” he chides. “You left me,” The words are gruff as they fall from his mouth, spoken through clenched teeth. He watches as Tav recoils further from him. 
“You wanted to kill me,” argues Tav with a tilt of her head. “We’ve already had his discussion, Astarion.”
Astarion scowls. “No, darling. I told you I only wished to deliver you unto undeath.” The storm begins to quell and he reaches out, holding her hands within his own. “And as I've stated before, I was only trying to give you what you wanted,” he says, voice dropping an octave.
‘Isn’t that what you want?’ Astarion recalls telling her. ‘To be mine? Forever?’
Turning her is the only way he can guarantee that they’ll be together forever. Make good on his promise to protect her. That he’ll never have to suffer the crushing loss of her.
Astarion's breath comes in quick, short pants as they exchange heated glances between the silence stretched before them.
Tav shakes her head, pulling her hands free from his grasp. “He would have never asked me to do that,” she infers. 
A heavy weight sits on Astarion’s chest and he sighs in disappointment. “You're wrong.”
He would have.
Then, and now still, he would. The moment he realized his skin smelled of her soaps more often than not is when this hunger took root. But he was too weak. Too fearful of what his attachment meant for her. 
She became all Astarion thought about: how his proximity to her made her a target, should Cazador come for him. How useless he would be without the tadpole if attacked in broad daylight. Her smile, her hair, the feeling of her pulse thrumming under his tongue while seated in his lap. He remembers how his chest ached when considering a path without her, as if his heart still beat.
Keeping her close to him, forever, is all he's ever longed for…
“He just lacked the ability to do so,” Astarion explains. “Lucky for us, he's no longer here.”
“He loved me,” Tav blurts out. “And that's more than I can say of you now.”
…but she still doesn't see it.
“Are you even capable of that now?” she asks in a contemptuous tone. “Or is this all I’ll ever get?”
“You are worth so much,” sneers Astarion. His face hovers above hers as he searches her eyes. “You’ve no idea.”
“Then tell me, Astarion.” Tav moves forward; Astarion instinctively backs away. “Tell me how much I mean to you.” His back hits the bedroom door and she pauses, leaving barely an inch of space between them. “Tell me how much you love me, Astarion. Please,” she pleads, voice breaking.
Astarion's chest heaves, and the demon creeps forward. The word is tainted, so heavily defiled. It's a strong poison that Astarion will never be able to suck out. It will leech into every part of what they have and slowly, surely, kill everything.
“I… I–” he stammers. Astarion wants to say it. It's right on the tip of his tongue, but it catches in his throat. His mind is loud, thoughts racing so quickly he can barely keep up with what they're saying. She's staring at him expectantly, and he has nothing to deliver.
He feels lost, as though his body is no longer his own. The scars on his back sting like they're freshly carved. There are shackles around his ankles and a hand around his neck. 
He's back in the kennels, oh gods he's back in the kennels, Godey maniacal laughter rings in his ears, he's trapped, he's trapped, he's trapped–
‘I do this out of love…’
Astarion can't breathe. 
He's being flayed, he's being impaled. He feels his control slipping as his thoughts become louder, shouting at him full-forced. The demon creeps forward and he can see its face. Astarion feels himself beginning to slip away. 
He can't say it. She can never know. But he has to fix this. He can fix this. How can he fix this?
…Oh.
Then suddenly, it comes to him: the urge to fuck it into her instead. 
Pick her up and whisk her onto the bed, because that's the language he knows. A language he trusts. He can thrust, and thrust and thrust until she cries his name, his praises into the night. 
Yes, everything would be better if he did just that.
He can show her how he feels. He won't have to say it. He can still stay safe, she'll never have to know. She doesn't need to know. He could just fuck her, over and over, as long as she wants. Forever, and ever, and ever–
But not right now. 
Later. 
Later he'll give himself to her, after he's had more to drink. That always makes this easier.
“The party is about to begin,” he manages to say. Astarion reaches behind himself to find the handle of the door. He clears his throat, then says, “We really should get going.”
Tav blinks, her expression falling flat. “Alright,” she says, soberly. She gazes a moment too long at him before eventually moving away to the mirror, taking a quick glance at herself. She wipes a finger under each eye, ridding herself of the smeared mascara. “Give me a few moments and I'll be right out.”
There's a soft tremor in her voice and Astarion knows she's unhappy with him, but at this moment, all he cares about is avoiding this topic. They will eventually have this discussion again–he knows it’s inevitable. Yet for now, he can breathe again.
Astarion nods, giving a quick dip of his head in acknowledgement toward Tav. He twists the handle of the bedroom door just as she enters the washroom and steps outside, the door closing behind him with a soft ‘click.’ 
A muffled sob can then be heard from the opposite end of the door, and a pang of guilt grips his chest. 
Tavaria is crying. Again. All because he couldn't say three bloody words to her.
Astarion raises a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He's said them before in jest–way before she meant anything significant to him. It isn't like he's incapable… nor would he be lying, should he say them again. 
His head throbs behind his eyes–the drink from before beginning to fade–and he digs his fingers harder into his skin.
Even if he is upset over it, Astarion knows why she left him. He doesn't even truly disagree with it, because had he been told the reality of what being a vampire spawn was like, he may have just chosen actual death itself. But he would never subject her to even a fraction of what he endured. He would make the experience so pleasant for her, so very enjoyable.
And she's here now, isn't she? She hasn't run yet, despite all she's seen. Has invited him into her bed countless times over these last few months. She's never told him to leave.
Right now, Astarion hates himself. Hates the chokehold just thinking about love has over him. She deserves to be told how he feels. To hear him say it. She isn't Cazador. No, she's quite the opposite of him, actually.
The opening of the bedroom door pulls Astarion from his thoughts, and he steps away from the doorway. Tav appears as the door swings fully open, her makeup redone and her eyes somewhat puffy, but she puts on her best smile and she steps through the threshold.
Astarion's chest aches as he looks at her face. It's all for show, and he knows it. Returning her smile, Astarion then holds a folded arm out toward Tav. She graciously accepts his offering by slipping her arm within his, and they head toward the ballroom.
They look every bit like the perfect couple as they walk through the hall, but his chest feels hollow. They reach the top of the stairs and Astarion steps down first, offering his hand to Tav. He sees the trepidation in her eyes, but eventually she smiles and accepts his offer.
And when her hand slots perfectly into his, light gleaming off the turquoise gemstone of True Love’s Caress, the knife twists so deeply within his chest that it knocks the air clean from his lungs.
He truly is a godsdamned fool.
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miskamix · 10 months ago
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maybe like sigma cock/nsfw hcs please?
Sigma NSFW Headcanons!
Like i said i really don't know much about cocks and i'm not gonna start to search up stuff about them at 00:33 am when i have school the next day so just nsfw hcT_T i might rewrite this with cock hc's in the future tho!
Anyways thank you for requesting!
Gn reader!
TW: my terrible smut, might be ooc
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I think Sigma is really vanila during sex and he probably doesn't have that much experience
I would say hes a switch, hes more of a subby dom(i hope yall understand what i mean)
this poor man probably thinks he hurt you or something if you let out a whine, and hes always asking if its to much or if he should slow down even if he only has his tip inside
when he's a dom hes very sweet and gentle(i can't see sigma as someone who would be rough during sex sorry)
Hes always making sure you feel good, and he would do almost anything to mae you feel good
I would say hes pretty good at eating people out not that good at sucking dick, since again he probably isn't very experienced
if hes sucking your dick he probably always chokes on it:(
Some kinks i think he might have: Praise kink, light bdsm, lingerie kink,(idk if its called that) pegging
He loves to praise you and to be praised
He is always willing to buy you new lingerie, toys and anything since hes rich>_<
i think some times he would love to tie you up and idk fuck you?
now if hes a sub, then he would live it if you have it your way with him, just make sure not to be rought with him
cries 100% if you peg/anal fuck him!!
use toys on him and he'll be a moaning and crying mess in no time
He lets you ride or cockwarm him in his office while hes doing work
His favorite positons are probably cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, you sitting on his face, lotus position and the spooning position
pretty much any position where you are on top, he likes it since you can go at your own speed
and the spooning is probably for when you two just woke up
Wild card!: He would love to have a threesome with you and someone else! he has thought about sharing you with nikolai, but hasn't said anything as to not make you uncomfortable!
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I hope you like these!:D i swear i forgot some hc's while i was writing this but its 01:02 am so its no wonder
I might make a tag list so if you wanna be added just comment or send me a messege!
Requsts: Open!
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your-sunny · 11 months ago
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Hi
DNI: Minors, no age stated on blog, if you post ed content, feedee/feederism, bigots
I'm sure this isn't everything I should put so I may just block anyways sorry
This blog contains dark themes!! Some things such as r@pe, kidnaping, injury, and mind break. This is all fantasy and also please note I tend not to use TWs. Please block me if this makes you uncomfortable! Also feel free to ask for me to remove a reblog or like if you don't want me interacting.
About me:
I'm bisexual, 19, and I'm genderqueer. You can call me a girl but I'm not cis lol. I'm single and a submissive.
I love playing Stardew Valley, baking, and playing with my pets. I use this blog sort of to let go- that doesn't mean I'm a living sex doll. I don't dispense nudes on command. Maybe if you actually wanna talk and be friends we can share contact info!
Taken Anon Tags:
🫥, *, 🐉, 🦝, 🍭
NSFT likes and limits below!!
Likes:
overstim
being controlled
a bit of pet play
getting marked up
cnc
rough play
impact play
restraints
praise/degradation
kidnapping
And probably more that I haven't figured out yet- still a bit new to this
Limits:
scat
vomit
feet
race play
body shaming
You being married or in a relationship unless yall have discussed being open about this stuff
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ohsunnyboy · 1 month ago
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never again | yoon keeho ˚₊‧⁺˖
you don't know what's cuter. you're boyfriend, lee keeho, or the delusion that the leafs will win the cup in either of your lifetimes.
TAGS: established relationship, toronto leafs fan!keeho, boston bruins fan!reader, screaming and shouting at a tv screen, fluff, maple leafs hockey is its own tw, drinking games!! keeho is lowk ooc
A/N: based off this iconic video. game 6 changed my brain chemistry and gave me hope until... well iykyk... here's the match recap. this is so niche it's entirely self indulgent sorry in advance lmao
WORDS: ~1000
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If you're going to be a hockey fan, you should know the number one rule: don't date within the division.
The notorious ad aside, it's pretty clear, once it gets to playoffs with you two, everything's off the table. Especially if you're throwing couch cushions across the room when you're team can't convert on a power play. Cough, the leafs, cough.
Which made it especially weird when you, a Boston Bruins fan ended up dating Yoon Keeho, a fucking Toronto Maple Leafs fan.
"Oh my god are the refs blind?! That's clearly a holding call!" he cries. Ah, it really doesn't get sweeter than this.
"Shut up, he just boarded Lohrei with that! Penalty for both of them," you snarl out, eyes fixated on the tv screen, watching the play-by-play slo-mo of the hit. Lohrei crumpling against the boards as Holmberg practically folds him. "Look! They're not even calling it. Did you see Carolina yesterday? they were calling everything that breathed wrong."
With a sigh, both you and Keeho take a shot. At this rate, you both could be professional alcoholics with how many missed penalty calls there've been this series. You can already feel the regret in the morning trying to sink in with this drinking game.
Keeho hums beside you, but he's been practically vibrating out his skin the entire game. "That's just Svechnikov no? He's massi—OH MY GOD WILLIAM NYLANDER YOU SWEDISH BEAUTY!"
The screen erupts as Nylander finally opens the scoring for the Leafs. A sea of horrific blue and white exploding into cheers. Idly, you think it's the most lively you've seen Scotiabank Arena in years.
"Ugh, really?" And you just have to flop back into the couch corner as Keeho takes his victory lap around the room. Dressed in, of course, his Nylander jersey.
"Oh yeah baby! I could marry that man," he laughs, before very comically and somehow very seriously turning back to you. "After you, babe. Of course after you, love of my life, angel of my univer-"
You hurl one of your last pillows at him. "Sit back down, idiot." The high flush on his face is pretty adorable, even if his alcohol breath stinks when he curls in next to you on the couch. Both of you are going to be crawling out of bed tomorrow for sure.
From above and below your small apartment you can hear the same screams. With the window propped open, you can even hear horns go off in the streets. Capital of Hockey and all that. Moving here to be with Keeho had been hard to do, but so much more worth it for the hockey. Especially when Boston comes rolling into town: being the only Bruins fan for rows on rows was intimidating but so much sweeter if they won.
"I'm your idiot, idiot," he croons into your neck. Peppering you with cute and sloppy kisses across your skin. You finger's curl idly into his hair as you watch the ads spin by on the tv, signalling the end of the second period. His cold fingertips curl around your waist, idly smoothing circles into it. Curled up like this, it's the cosiest you could ask for - and somehow you don't mind the lack of pillows. You both make up for it with your shared body heat.
Carefully, you extract your phone from under him like he's a jenga tower about to fall, but game-drunk like this, he could probably sleep through the Leafs Stanley cup parade if they did win for once.  
Twitter's the same as you left it: another TicTacTOmar clip of Lohrei and Holmberg, more Steve Dangle commentary and your Boston moots crowing about how the Leafs will lose it in the third period. Very, very secretly, you don't think they will. Swayman vs Woll as goalies are brilliant – and terribly good looking – but it must be the phase of the moon or something stupid, but Toronto might just win it this game.
Looking down at your sleeping beauty, Keeho is blissfully passed out on your chest. Face semi-flushed, mouth agape and drool leaking out. Yeah, this is going in the camera roll.
A quick snap and a venture into your settings is all it takes to set the glorious picture as your lock screen. And, if you squint, you can see Draisaitl's neon orange Skip ad in the background. Exactly why you're dating him in the first place.
"You really are my idiot, idiot," you murmur and you press a kiss to his hairline, a warm feeling roiling in your stomach.
Stashing your phone away, you ready yourself with a minute on the clock until the third starts. Saying that, you should really wake sleeping beauty up. "Hey... hey, get up. The Leafs lost in overtime again."
His eyes blink blearily as he processes your words. Slowly, then all at once, you can see the panic settle into his eyes as he sees your shit-eating grin. “No they didn't,” he whispers, but it borders on desperate.
You really can't help yourself. "Yup! There was even a line brawl," you sigh dramatically, bringing your hand to your forehead with a flair. "Swayman was even fighting Woll, a whole goalie scrap and you missed it."
"Nope! Not believing it." Keeho finally has the common sense to turn to look at the screen and realise the third's just begun. The stare of disappointment he gives you is cold enough to give Winnipeg a run for its money. "Never again."
You roll your eyes but just pat the space next to you for him to settle down properly on. "C'mon, whoever loses this has to get breakfast."
“You’re so on,” he huffs to agree, taking a bodily effort to sit back against the couch and on your cold feet. There’s a fire in his eyes that makes you regret this already. “I’m so making you drive to Timmy’s.”
Deep in your heart, if you had to choose Boston or Toronto to win the cup, you'd still choose Boston. But no matter how this series ends, you'd still love your boyfriend very, very much.
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if this in any way endeared you to hockey come check my sideblog @wannadewar where i lament and fangirl! if you somehow enjoyed this, a like or reblog would be lovely :) ⭒ masterlist
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aeligsido · 2 months ago
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[WM — September 2024] Prompt 5 — Spell.
Rating: G.
TW: none.
Characters: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black; guest appearances of Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom.
Additional Tags: first war against Voldemort (technically); established relationship; Neville & Harry are babies; domesticity; fluff; this is just Sirius and Remus being very in love I promise.
Summary: Sirius wonders if babies can cast spells.
Words count: 800.
A/N: Hey!! I’m having a bit of a hard time writing but I managed to get this one out — it came a bit less on the humor side as I wanted and more on the fluff side, but I'm not mad honestly, I like it better this way! Hope you like it 💕
@wolfstarmicrofic
read on ao3.
-
When Remus came back into their room with two mugs full of hot chocolate into his hands, it was to immediately notice Sirius’ absence from their bed. With a quickly raised-and-gone-down eyebrow, he turned around to cross the corridor, passing James’ and Lily’s door to enter the nursery.
As he suspected, Sirius was sitting in front of the crib — big and carefully settled with various wards and protective runes Remus couldn’t even recognize —, watching the babies sleep. His eyes were not leaving the pattern of their small chests, rising and falling and rising again. He looked enraptured, enamored, even.
Remus took a minute to lay his own eyes on the boys; Neville with his rosy skin and faint blond hair and his mouth open in his sleep, Harry with his brown skin and already wild dark hair and his small hands closing and opening in time with his breathing. They were so tiny, and so precious, and so—
“Moony,” softly said Sirius, not once looking up at him and yet still giving him a part of his attention, “do you think babies can cast spells?”
Remus let himself fall beside his husband, carefully handing him his mug of hot chocolate. Then, he looked back to the boys, and couldn’t stop the warmth in his heart, nor the smile at his lips.
“It does feel like it, doesn’t it?”
“They’re so perfect.”
They were, agreed Remus — he didn’t even have to say it out loud either. None of them could stop saying it since the boys were born, already weeks ago, just weeks ago. It felt like forever and nothing at all, and the fear and excitation for the future, their future, was constantly palpable.
They stayed here in silence for a little while, shoulder to shoulder, sipping at their warm drink and enjoying each other’s presence. Then—
“Do you think we could get one of ours, one day?”
Remus wondered, a brief instant, if Sirius had to reunite all his courage for this simple question. It felt enormous, like being at the verge of a precipice you hadn’t noticed the presence of, like the free fall of a lifetime, like the dive to safety in the middle of a storm.
Looking at Neville and Harry, it felt so terribly easy.
“I think I would like it,” he answered softly, so softly he would have worried Sirius hadn’t heard him if they hadn’t been pressed against each other.
He could imagine it with so much clarity — a child with his curls and Sirius’ grey eyes, with dark or sandy or plain brown hair, maybe freckles, maybe tanning in the summer and a smile to the sun and laughing hard and fast, with small hands which would fit perfectly into theirs and a small life tucked against their hearts.
“Yeah?” Sirius tilted his head, looking at him now, face so open and so tender Remus could lose himself in it.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
He took Sirius’ hand, squeezed it, and Sirius looked like the whole goddamn galaxy, unable to stop emitting the most beautiful light.
“We should probably practice, you know.”
“The child-rearing?”
“The conception.” Sirius gave him one of his small, cheeky grins, and Remus let out an equally as small but amused laugh.
“I don’t think it's how it would work for us,” he pointed out, biting his lips to stop them from widening in mirth.
“We won’t know for sure if we don’t try, won’t we?” Sirius retorted without missing a beat.
“I thought you were under a spell?” Remus waved toward the still thankfully sleeping children, and Sirius took a few seconds to look over at them, completely besotted, before coming back to him with yet another one of his signature grins — the one saying he has a plan, truly, and he’ll get what he wants, because he’s Sirius Black and nothing will stop him.
“Lily said something about Muggle fairy tales and True Love's kisses breaking spells…”
“Would I be your True Love, then?” It sounded perhaps a bit too honest, a bit less joking than Remus intended; it only softened Sirius’ gaze, and made his own heart beat faster under it.
“I choose my True Love,” affirmed Sirius, his tone final, his hand soft as it came stroking his cheek. “And I choose you.”
Remus melted, his stomach fluttering and his cheeks warming under Sirius’ hand. No matter how long they’ll be together, how many times Sirius will make this type of declaration — Remus was so, so weak for it.
“Sap,” he said still, too soft and tender to be anything else.
“You love it,” replied Sirius.
His hand slid to Remus' neck, and then they were kissing; and maybe they were under a different kind of spell, now, yet still one of love and wonder.
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r1poutmygvtz · 27 days ago
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longgg ramble/vent/whatever's on my mind, idk man i'm tired and should probably schedule another therapy appointment soon
also this is kinda just all over the place, idk my thoughts are kinda scattered rn for some reason
(tws: mental health talk, sh, suicide attempts, od mention, ed, body issues, weed + alcohol talk, medicine misuse, childhood abuse, pet + family death mentions, possibly more idk if i missed one lmk and i'll tag it and put it up here)
my mental health right now is so fragile i don't understand, like obviously i know i'm depressed, i've been diagnosed for nearly two years now but i should've been much earlier, maybe that's why it got so bad, i don't even remember why i was diagnosed tbh, i think it was my first time back after like a year and a half maybe two years of not being in therapy and obviously a lot of shit happened, in that time that i went without therapy i tried to kms three times, had an alcoholic phase, and got addicted to weed
it was also sometime around my birthday i believe, which would make sense on why i got diagnosed, im always super depressed around my birthday, i mean i was expelled on my 13th, my great grandma died the day after my 14th and the day after that i tried to kms and that was the most traumatizing one and it took me over 2 years to be able to take the meds that i od'd on again without freaking out, i was literally so high i can't even remember my 15th, 4 days before my 16th i graduated (horrible for me, i had a panic attack everyday leading up to it for like 2 weeks straight) and 2 days after that my cat that i had since my 12th birthday died, so there's literally nothing enjoyable about my birthday and it feels more like a curse than anything
anyways, i've been the same since i was like 8 or 9, i was depressed and dreamt/wished i would die or get seriously hurt, maybe i just wanted my dad to care about me for once or maybe i did really just want to die, im not sure, i can't really remember my childhood, my therapist says i most likely have ptsd from the abuse which would explain the memory gaps and dpdr (depersonalization & derealization for those that don't know, the derealization is confirmed by my therapist btw just not the depersonalization but that's probably only because i didn't bring that up)
i think the most fucked up part is the fact it took me 16 years to find out the abuse was also physical, i spent the entire time before that thinking it was only verbal towards me and my siblings but i guess not, also apparently all the times me and my sister went to my neighbors/aunts house was because we were hiding from my dad, i thought we just went over to watch cartoons because we didn't have them at home, idk it was just weird for me to find out 7 years after it stopped, it doesn't really bother me all that much tbh my dad was already dead to me and i've been mostly no contact with him for almost 3 years now
also speaking of me as a kid, that's when a lot of my problems started, i was 9 almost 10 for the dpdr and 8 or 9 when i started hating my body, sh came in later tho i was like 10 or 11 when that started, i actually remember being like 9 and writing down everything i ate on a piece of paper, and when i was 10 i kept a notebook full of what i weighed in the morning and night and would see the difference in it, i also vividly remember asking my mom how many calories were in something from mcdonald's and she told me i was too young to be asking that so i just kinda stopped after that which obviously ended up coming back, i mean just look at my account
anyways yea i just hate how back and forth my mental health is, one day i could be doing great and think i'm amazing and unbelievably pretty and smart and ill try to better myself by getting sober and staying clean, then the next day i'll hate myself and consider going back to taking my meds throughout the day just so i was loopy and hardly able to process anything
tbh i do miss it a lot, i started back when i was heavily addicted to weed and would take my meds when i couldn't smoke, actually i used to take melatonin a bunch throughout the day so i could just pass out if anything happened that i didn't want to deal with (literally anything at all tbf) but that started to not work as well as i wanted so i turned to my meds, i'd take my nightly dose (50mg instead of the 20mg i was supposed to take) at like noon and would be loopy until it was time to actually take it, i didn't do it much tbh, my sisters bf caught on after the third or fourth time because i had just met his family for the first time that day and their dog tried to bite my face apparently and i didn't even react (didn't even realize it happened tbh) and he asked what was up with me and i told him bc i've known him forever, anyways yea he yelled at me to knock it off and went on about how it's gonna kill me if i kept doing it, so i did it like once after that and it's been months since i've done it again
it's kinda funny tho, those meds actually could've killed me regardless, i was supposed to take them three times a day but only really did once at school and i still got a bunch of the more serious side effects because i wasn't supposed to smoke while taking them but obv i did bc i was addicted, like breathing was hard, i nearly fainted all the time, my appetite was nonexistent, my heart was starting to mess up, like i literally thought i had a heart attack one day because the side effects were that bad and my mom and sister started looking up symptoms of POTS because that's what the side effects looked like, anyways i got taken off those months ago but i still have them somewhere and i'm fighting the urge to find and take them just so i have no appetite and so i'll sleep through the day
i think that's really all idk, there's more i was gonna say but i can't really remember plus this is already super long jfc, i don't expect anyone to actually read this, i just wanted it off my chest and i don't really trust talking to many people about this kinda stuff
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not-ur-boy-toy · 2 months ago
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Hartbreak Ranch Chapter 2
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AN: Chapter 2 has finally arrived after a massive delay!! Not much romance going on so far for the two, BUT, it is getting there, I'm trying to not get too impatient, but gotta build it up... ;D If you'd like to be tagged in this series, please let me know as well! :)
TW: foul language, addiction mention as well as drugs mentioned (lightly)
Word count: 3.4k
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“Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my home?”.
The voice rang out through the living room as Shawn stood still as a statue. It was an odd situation. Shawn was in the middle of the room, in the middle of nowhere, by himself. He didn’t exactly blend in either, he couldn’t have been an ‘neighbour’ just coming to borrow some sugar. By any sane person’s mind, they would have thought he was trying to rob them. Shawn knew he should have answered by now, but his mind was elsewhere… Mostly admiring the cowboy in front of him.
“Oh uhh.. I-.. Well..-” Shawn stuttered out before being interrupted by the man who now stood in the doorway, his warm chocolate eyes now holding a dangerous glare. 
“Spit it out, I don’t need a story. Name and what the hell are you doing in my home” the guy repeated with a slight hiss, aggression now starting to build up in his tone as he moved  towards Shawn. 
This was all that Shawn needed to reply back as quick as possible. He had dealt with plenty of fights before. But, that was with a bodyguard who knew about his bad temper and sharp tongue. Cowboys weren’t his forte to fight with either..
“Sorry! Right, I’m Shawn, I’m guessing your brother, Owen, brought me here!” Shawn blurted out quickly, not risking to anger the other.
Shawn was praying that Owen would return fast, especially as the man stared Shawn down. It was hard to figure out what he was thinking, especially as the guy stayed quiet. Was he gonna punch Shawn? Beat him up? Or perhaps Kiss him?... Probably not the last one. The blond really needed to stop watching those romance films at 2AM. 
The doubtful look Shawn was given was surely about to seal his fate. His money winner face (literally) was about to get decked by an attractive, muscular guy and thrown out into the middle of nowhere again. Shawn backed up slightly, trying to give himself a bit of space in case things turned, however, fate was clearly on his side for once as he heard Owen’s chirpy voice from behind.
“Bret! Didn’t know you’d be here yet,” Owen laughed out as he walked over with a grin, oblivious to the growing tension in the room, “Shawn here is just stayin’ with us for a few days, I felt awful leaving him in town… His car had broken down and you know how far the closest motel is”.
Bret, which Shawn just learnt the man-who-was-gonna-beat-his-ass name was, stared at Shawn one last time before those same dangerous eyes softened as they looked at Owen. 
“You have too much of a soft heart, Owen… You know how I feel about bringing strangers home” Bret lightly scolded Owen, although Bret did receive an odd stare from his brother. One that clearly read that he didn’t actually know what the other was talking about at all.
“Don’t be such a grump, Ma and Pa don’t mind people being here.. Or well at least Ma doesn’t,” Owen chuckled out before looking at Shawn, “Oh! Sorry Shawn, this is my brother, Bret, don’t mind him, he can be quite the grouch after a long day”.
Once again, Bret and Shawn stared at each other, the tension building once again. 
“Nice to meet ya, Bret” Shawn hummed out trying to break the ice, however, his attempt was pushed away as Bret walked towards the kitchen instead, mumbling under his breath something about ‘lemonade’. Owen gave Shawn a small pitiful smile,
“Like I said, don’t mind him, I don’t know what’s up with him…”, Owen glanced over his shoulder to look in the direction Bret went before huffing and turning back to the blond, “Anyways.. Let me take you to the guests room!”.
Heading upstairs with suitcase in hand, Shawn followed after the cheerful man. The next floor of the house continued the rustic, homey feeling, having plenty of family photos dotted around, however this time, flowers in vases decorated the hallway on small, pine cabinets. Lavenders, some roses and a few other flowers that Shawn didn’t know were blooming from the elegant vases, filling the area with a soft, relaxing and refreshing aroma. There were five different doors, one on the left that was white with painted pink flowers and ‘Diana’ painted delicately across it, another next to it  was a pine door with painted on sunflowers, the third was a dark mahogany door with simple gold detailing. Across those doors were two other doors, one was a double door, clearly the master bedroom, and the furthest away was just a simple pine door. Owen guided Shawn past the doors until they reached the plain pine door. He opened the door with a soft smile, 
“This will be your room, if you need any blankets let me know… If you need me, my door is the one with the sunflowers”, Owen hummed slightly, trying to think if there was anything else he needed to tell the other. “I’ll knock on when supper is done” With one last smile, Owen left Shawn to get comfortable, heading to his own room.
The black boots Shawn wore clicked softly against the wooden floor as he entered the room that he’d call ‘home’ for the next few days. Compared to the rest of the house that the model had seen, this room felt rather… empty. There weren't any family photos, there weren't any carefully embroidered pillows or even any bright colours. Instead, the room had a simple double bed in the centre of the room, leaned against the right empty wall, the bedding was a cool white with a few fluffy pillows that looked like they were brand new and untouched. Two bedside tables laid beside the bed, both having a pull-cord lamp and one had a singular alarm clock that seemed to echo in the room. Next to the bed, there was another closed door which Shawn assumed was the bathroom. On the opposite side of the room, there were two panel doors, which once again, Shawn assumed was a wardrobe. A lounge chair sat in the corner of the room with a small table next to it, however there was nothing on it. No flowers, no leftover mug of coffee. This room truly felt abandoned, almost lonely compared to the rest of the house that Shawn saw. The only thing that was rather interesting to look at was the window which showed off the large farm from behind. He could see a few roaming animals around as well as an old barn by a few, large trees.
A soft huff left Shawn’s lips as he leaned his suitcase against the wall, admiring the view he had, “Just a few days… that’s all..” he quietly reminded himself.
Getting himself situated in the room didn’t take too long at all. Shawn had hung up his clothes which he deemed weren’t entirely appropriate to wear at a farm, his extra pair of shoes were lined up in the wardrobe, and he had made sure his cigs and bottle of vodka was hidden away in one of the bedside tables. He was gonna save them for when he met up with Ramon, Kid and Diesel, but desperate times called for desperate measures if he needed them. He even had some ‘extra’ measures hidden in his cig packs as well, something that relaxed him more than the cigs. But that was for extreme desperate times. Or fun times. Shawn’s shampoo and conditioner was lined up in the bathroom right next to his cherry and vanilla scented body wash, his hairbrush, toothbrush and toothpaste was also placed on the sink as well. It felt mostly like home now. Although, there was a small problem. Or well, two small problems. One was that there was no TV, did these people live like cavemen? And the second, his phone was getting pretty low and there was no plug socket.. He had double checked the whole room just to make sure! There was none behind the bedside tables, there was none behind the chair that could be hidden, there wasn’t even one in the bathroom! 
Staring at his phone screen, he weighed out his options. He could ignore his phone, save up the battery… But  having Diesel panic and get on his ass? Yeah, he needed to phone up his bodyguard. Shawn paced around the room as he held the phone to his ear, listening to the ringing before that familiar gruff voice appeared as Diesel picked up.
“Shawn? Everything alright? Are you at your hotel?” The questions instantly rang in from the protective man which made Shawn awkwardly chuckle.
“Yeaah… About that…”
“Shawn, please don’t tell me you’re lost”
The blond chewed on his bottom lip nervously, “Well… Not exactly lost… I mean, I don’t know where the fuck I am…” he started, “But don’t panic! I’m safe, I’m all good, just gonna be late for the photoshoot, y’know?”.
A deep sigh filled Shawn’s ear from the otherside of the phone, he could tell that Diesel was rubbing his temple.
“Telling me to not panic makes me panic more… and how late are you talking about?” the bodyguard questioned.
“Well, maybe a day or two… or more… I don’t know ‘kay?! My damn car broke down, but this guy is fixin’ it up” Shawn mumbled out before moving the phone away from his ear as he knew what was going to happen.
“YOUR CAR BROKE DOWN?! I KNEW I SHOULD'VE DROVE YOU HERE!” the voice bellowed down the phone as Shawn played with a strand of his silky hair. “Jesus fucking Christ Shawn, just-.. Are you at least somewhere safe?” Diesel asked with a loud huff.
Shawn moved the phone back to his ear before speaking, “Yeah, I’m safe, my phone is probably gonna die though, just gotta find somewhere to char-”
“AND YOUR PHONE IS ABOUT TO DIE?!”
A small hiss left Shawn’s lips as Diesel’s voice picked up again, “Let me finish my sentence, asshole! Givin’ me a goddamn headache, I get your point!” Shawn tried to argue back but the model was greeted by silence. “Diesel?” He hummed out, “... Big Sexy??” Shawn continued, believing the other was being petty enough to give him the silent treatment, “Kevin???”. Finally, Shawn glanced at his phone being greeted by a dead screen, “FUCK!” he hissed out in anger, throwing the phone on the bed without a care. Just what he needed. His phone dead, Diesel being pissed off and probably thinking he was dead… Shit, he really needed a smoke.
Grabbing his pack of smokes and his trusty lighter, Shawn made his way out of the room and down the stairs before making his way outside. He had no idea if they let people smoke on their property, they probably didn’t, but he was desperate for a fix. Standing outside of the house, Shawn took out one of the cigs and placed it between his thin lips before flicking his lighter a few times to produce a small flame. He held it under the cig before he breathed in deeply, relishing in the feeling of the harsh smoke filling his lungs before blowing it out of his lungs. The familiar taste of menthol was one that was always calming, something he had always chosen as a young teen, they were the cheapest, but they were perfect in his eyes. Sure, he enjoyed a good cigar, it made him feel confident- almost unstoppable. But a Marlboro blue cigarette? Nothing could beat that feeling of a soft burn, it reached an itch that some would call an addiction, but Shawn called it self-soothing. Another puff of smoke left his lips as he glanced around the farm. The sun was already starting to set. It was rather beautiful to see, watching pinks and oranges blur together as the sun started to dip behind the horizon…
Shawn was thrown out of his thoughts at the sound of footsteps behind him and a low voice filling his ears again.
“If you’re gonna smoke, at least have an ashtray nearby” Bret mumbled out as he placed a ceramic ashtray on the edge of the patio fence, “...Everything alright? I heard yelling” Bret continued as he stood at the top of the patio stairs.
Shawn turned around, cig still gently dangling from his lips, his baby blues meeting the warm chocolate ones in a stare, “I didn’t expect you to have one… But yeah, I’m fine, just peachy..” he huffed out, his eyes going to the floor as he kicked at a bit of dirt on the ground. He took another drag from his cig before moving over near the patio to flick off the ash that lingered on the edge into the ashtray. 
“Mhm, sure, peachy,” Bret answered back, his warm eyes never leaving Shawn’s lean figure. Shawn’s baby blues glanced back up at Bret, fidgeting slightly. He wasn’t one to keep his mouth shut, especially when it came to drama. Even if it was about himself. Or perhaps it was the way Bret looked at him like he was an actual person? Shawn wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help but let the truth flood out.
“... My phone has died, I don’t know how long I’ll be here for, Diesel is pissed off at me like it’s my fault…” Shawn spat out the truth, his eyes looking back at the ground as he took another puff of the cigarette in his hand. Smoke flooded out his mouth before he continued, “Like, sure, maybe I shouldn’t have taken a small ‘shortcut’... Or actually listened to him… But still, fuck, It’s not my fault” He huffed out. Bret raised a brow. He wasn’t sure which part he was more shocked at, maybe it was the fact that this ‘Diesel’ was pissed off at him, or perhaps it was the way Shawn deflected.
“But anyways, I’ll be out of your lovely hair, you clearly don’t like strangers,” A soft, sarcastic chuckle left Shawn as he pushed the cig against the ashtray, “Thanks for the ashtray and well, that little rant” he thanked quietly.
“It’s fine… And don’t feel like you need to leave fast, you just caught me in a bad time” Bret awkwardly apologised, rubbing the back of his neck, “If you need to phone someone, we’ve got a landline phone you can borrow” he offered with a small shrug. 
“Ha, thanks for the offer handsome, but I don’t exactly remember phone numbers, got too many to remember” Shawn chuckled out again, he wished he remembered Diesel’s phone number or even Hunter’s… he knew part of Marty’s number, but even if he remember his number, they hadn’t even spoken in years… 
Bret was surprised at the name ‘handsome’, it was very sudden but he shrugged it off quickly, “I can get Owen to take your phone and charge it as the repair shop, I know there isn’t any plugs in this house- Never has been, never will, that’s the old man’s orders, but the shop has one” He offered again, hoping to ease the mans tension as well as an apology for their first meeting.
“I-... I suppose that isn’t a bad idea at all… Thank’s Bret” Shawn smiled softly, “I’ll give you it tomorrow, or Owen, whoever I find first, but thank you” his blue eyes took one more look around the ranch before looking back at Bret, “I’ll see you inside, if I stay out any longer I’ll be tempted to have another cig” Shawn tried to joke, gently shaking the box of cigs he held, but it was the truth. He would have had another cig- Or probably the whole box and his ‘fun sticks’ as he liked to call them as well. He gave Bret another small smile before heading inside of the house, brushing past the bigger man.
Bret glanced over his shoulder, watching as the man made his way inside the house. Questions continued to wrap around his brain about Shawn. Who was Diesel? Why would he be upset with Shawn? Where was he even heading to make a shortcut through the middle of nowhere? Even Bret knew it was a silly mistake to make. His thick brows furrowed together as he huffed, his eyes glancing over towards the sunset. He stayed for another moment, watching as the sun ducked behind the horizon, the sky getting darker and the warm air grew colder. He took a deep breath in, the smell of Shawn’s cheap cigarettes still clinging to the air as one final question ran through his head. Sure he had met other strange characters, like his soon-to-be brother-in-law Davey Boy Smith, but Shawn was a lot more different than him. He didn’t fit in, he didn’t fit in the town nearby nor the farm life itself by the looks of his clothes and the way he held himself. His hair and clothes were too perfect for a man who was stressed about being stranded in the middle of nowhere, there wasn’t any out of place hair in sight or a crease in his clothes… Who the hell was Shawn?... Bret shook his head slightly, he was just simply overthinking about Shawn, that’s all.
Night had quickly arrived by the time Owen knocked on the guest door to announce that supper was done. The dinner table was on the biggerside, having about twelve chairs around the table and only a few of the chairs were being used. He met the patriarch of the Harts, Stu, and his Mrs, Helen. Much like Bret, Stu wasn’t as welcoming, but Helen was his saviour. She had welcomed him with open arms, Owen clearly took after his mother. He had met Diana who was sweet, she was the youngest daughter of the Harts. He had also learnt that the family was rather large, having twelve siblings all together, but most of the kids had moved out. The supper was something he needed, something relaxing, and soul soothing from how fresh and hearty the soup and bread he ate. He did notice Bret missing from the table, which must of been the usual as Owen’s voice perked up,
“Bret usually misses his supper, he’ll be checking on the animals making sure their water is good and they have food” He explained before taking a sip of water, “He’ll have it later”. That eased Shawn’s curiosity, leaving it without another question. 
After the meal, Shawn thanked them, especially for the welcomed hospitality before heading to the guest room. He changed out of his clothes, hanging them up before fully getting ready for bed. Shawn had a strict regime that he followed, he would wash his face before cleansing it, then he would moisturise as well. He had to keep his face looking young, obviously. He would then brush his hair before tying it up into a ponytail, he’d also have a whiskey over ice and even a cigar before brushing his teeth.
Usually after his little routine, he would stay up late in his penthouse, he’d sit on his large, comfy couch that was as soft as clouds and watch a few films before going to bed. On bad nights, he wouldn’t sleep. He’d instead sit outside on his balcony, watching the bright city of New York light up the dark sky, replacing the stars he couldn’t see. It was called the city that never sleeps for a reason. Yet, being in this home, he felt as if he wouldn’t have a bad night, that he could actually rest without an issue.
The guest bed wasn’t exactly as comfy as his bed at home, but he was used to other beds, especially when he travelled. It was the comfiest he had in awhile, he seemed to sink in like his own bed somewhat, and it didn’t feel like stone like a few five star hotel beds did. The room wasn’t fully pitch black either, which didn’t annoy him as much as he thought it would. The curtains that covered the window in the room were thin, letting in the natural light of the moon and stars outside fade in which tempted him to go and admire… but he’d leave that for a sleepless night. Even the sounds of crickets outside didn’t annoy him even if he enjoyed  silence when he slept. They chirped out a symphony that lulled Shawn to a somewhat peaceful sleep.
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russellsppttemplates · 1 year ago
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We're a couple of idiots, aren't we? (Charles Leclerc)
You had always been there to see Charles race and you wouldn't let your fight interfere with that
Note: english is not my first language. I'm not the best at writing angst pieces, but I hope this one is decent enough!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: family issues (alludes to the caregiver necessities), couple fight
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
It all began when you came home later than expected, the tiredness evident in your eyes as you paced your bag down on the sofa and allowed yourself to rest for a little, "Hey, amour", Charles whispered, testing to see if you were awake as he walked inside the living room, "hey", you said, patting the seat next to you.
Kissing your forehead, Charles sat next to you, "how was your day?", he asked, rubbing your thigh, "exhausting", you sighed, "and the next few are going to be even worse. I probably won't be home for dinner tomorrow anyway".
Charles felt uneasy, squirming around in his seat. You had been working a lot, your family also needed you on their side since your grandparents needed more assistance these days, so you and Charles haven't been able to spend that much time together. And wether it was the fact that you're used to being around eachother or the fact that the season was not going as expected, Charles felt like he hadn't spent enough time with the person he considered his safe and happy place.
"You have been very busy, I feel like I've hardly spent time with you", Charles noted, and maybe it was a seemingly honest comment that wasn't intended to be taken as harmful as you did.
"I know I've not been home, Charles, you think I don't feel that too? I know we haven't spent much time together just the two of us, but it's not been easy! Everyone needs me here, there and everywhere at the same time, and I also need time for me!", you let out.
Unexpectedly, your words also impacted Charles in a way you didn't think they would, "I know you've been busy, but we also need to spend time together, no? Or is our relationship not something we should invest time on? In a relationship, we both need eachother", he gulped. A weird and new feeling sat in his chest, like he was pressuring you and that he was burdening you.
"We do, but we also need to let eachother have some time, too!", you said, feeling anger, sadness, and overall tiredness from your recent days, "I'm going to bed", you mumbled, getting up and heading for your shared bedroom.
The energy you had left in your body was only enough to allow you to wash your face, noticing the dull and dark tone as you quickly rubbed some moisturiser on, grabbing your pyjamas to out them on and lay in bed, taking a painkiller for the growing headache.
When Charles finally go to the bedroom, he noticed you were already asleep on your side of the bed, carefully walking along the side so he could kiss your forehead before he too got ready for bed.
.
By the time the next morning arrived, Charles had ready left, and when you grabbed your phone, notifications from various WhatsApp groups popped up.
Mum + Dad
Can you go by grandma's house today? She was complaining of some pain and we can't remember if her meds box is sorted out or not.
Ferrari GP Weekend
Okay, just to make sure I'm not leaving anyone out: Y/N, you're not coming this weekend, right?
Since your family had been needing you to spend more time with them and at home, you had already said that you weren't sure you'd be joining them for that Grand Prix, and last night's fight settled the subject.
Texting both of the groups, you got up and got ready for the day, already knowing it was going to be a tough one.
You and Charles didn't fight a lot, at least not like this. Usually, you always found a way to talk about things and sort them out. So even this was new territory, not having talked about the subject and finding a common ground, because the situation you both left it at the night before was not the one to have.
Throughout the day, you hopefully texted Charles saying that you'd try to be home so you could talk to eachother before he left later on the evening, and while you intended to keep it, you had to text him again
To Charles
I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be home until nighttime. My grandma needs me and it's going to take a while.
Have a safe flight. Can you text me when you land, please? Love you ✨️
True to your word, you sat in your bedroom with the moon already shinning through the windows and showcasing perfectly Charles' bedside table with none of his rings, watch and bracelets where he usually put them when he was at the house.
.
"Why did I arrive to the paddock today only to find out that you are not joining me this weekend?", Francisca said over the phone, apparently not even bothering to wish you a good morning, even though it clearly wasn't one.
"Because I've been the busiest bee ever under the sun, and I also had a fight with Charles, and I need to sleep for three days straight to recover", you replied back, noticing the change in Pierre's girlfriend's tone.
"Oh", she added, "I'm sorry, it's just that you're always here and I haven't been able to talk to him properly yet, maybe it's a good thing I haven't yet", she admitted.
One thing you liked about her, was how honest she was with you, and you needed it right now, "do you think I should go? We left the subject hanging and it's not something light we can just solve over the phone. And besides, I've always been there for these races, and he deserves as much support as he can get", you asked, chewing on your bottom lip as you waited for her answer.
"I have no idea why you fought, nor do I want to know unless you feel comfortable in telling me, but I do know that you're made for eachother, so if your heart tells you to come to the race, you should", she advised and you could hear the smile on her voice, "besides, I love your company, so it's a win win".
.
From all the times you had previously travelled with Charles, you had become acquainted and a pro a listing what you needed for the race weekends, so packing was easy and quick: two changes of clothes for both colder and warmer weather, basic toiletries bag in a backpack with entertainment and snacks for the flight.
The early hours allowed you to get to the airport without any traffic and make it to the gate with enough time to spare so you could grab a coffee to go.
Francisca knew you were coming, and after having a conversation with your family, you explained to them how the whole situation was putting pressure not only on you but also on your relationship with Charles. As you expected, they were not aware of how the situation was on your side and sat down with you so you could find a better arrangement.
Arriving at the airport of destination, you quickly found the transport line that would be taking you to the closest stop near the paddock, gradually seeing fans get inside as the stops approached the track site.
You followed them in, wanting to go as unnoticed as possible as you walked along them.
"I just saw on Instagram that Charles had left his hotel a while ago, so he should be here any minute now", a young woman around your age commented with her friends, stopping by the benches you were sitting in. Turns out you were waiting for the same person after all.
"Is it okay if we sit here?", one of them asked kindly, "Oh, you're Y/N", one of the girls said.
Nodding, you pushed your backpack to rest near your legs, "of course you can sit", you smiled, still not used to the fact that fans often recognised your face.
"Thanks!", she scurried nervously, urging her friends to sit, seeing their surprised faces as they looked at you, "Also, I'm sorry, I'm sure this is weird for you, that I know your name and you don't know mine, I- we didn't expect to find you here", she apoligised, finally sitting down.
"It's okay, unless you're going to turn out to be come crazy stalker fan, I think we will be fine", you smiled, hoping they would catch the joke and relax a little.
"No no no!", they all said, smiling when you smiled back, "but, may I ask what you're doing here? I mean, don't you have an all access pass?", one of them wondered as she sat next to you.
"I'm surprising Charles, actually", you added, feeling like saying anything else would not only be violating yours and Charles' privacy, but also allowing the creation of rumours you wouldn't want, "I wasn't originally coming to see him race, but some things cleared up on my calendar so I thought I'd surprise him", you finished, seeing them smile, "do you come to watch races regularly?", you asked, changing the subject hopefully subtly enough that they wouldn't notice too much.
Conversation was flowing easily, really, they seemed like really nice girls and it never felt invasive, so the time you had to wait went by quickly, hearing people call your boyfriend's name.
You could notice his presence anywhere, that was a given. Wether it was his well trained torso that made spotting him even from his back, or his handsome face, it wasn't hard yo miss him even surrounded by fans who were wearing the same t-shirt as him.
"Let me stand around you so he won't notice me", you said, "with how enamoured he is of you, I'm sure it won't be long", one of the girls, named Lyla, you learned, spoke, wanting to see the scene unfold as he approached you.
"Hi!", Charles greeted, posing for the pictures while he signed the caps they had, not noticing your hand holding one of his own caps was in the mix.
"Charles! Can you sign this, please?", you asked, hoping you were loud enough, "I was not coming to see you race today, but I'm very happy I did", you almost yelled, thanking the fact that the other girls had helped you by keeping quiet until he realised you were there.
It was enough for Charles to recognise the voice. After all, he had been longing to hear it for the past couple of days.
"Y/N, you're here!", he called, handing Lyla the permanent marker before he hugged you, "I missed you so much, I'm sorry", he whispered on your ear before pulling back a little so he could look you in the eye, "you don't have a pass, do you?", he wondered, seeing you shake your head, "I'll see what I can do, but you're coming with me", he smiled, holding your hand in his and bidding goodbye to the group of girls after you all took a group picture.
The rush until you arrived in his driver's room didn't allow you to talk until you sat on the sofa after greeting everyone and thanking one of the team members for getting you a pass on such short notice.
"Do you think we can talk about it? I don't want to ruin the race by distracting you from it, but I don't think we should be here and not discuss it either", you brought the subject, looking up to see Charles push a chair and sit in front of you, "I want to apologise first", you said, "I never should have said what I said, especially the way I said it, I'm sorry", you apologised, "I never intended it in a way that would hurt you".
Charles grabbed your hands, lacing them in his and looking into your eyes, "I'm sorry, too. I think we should talk about it, too. I want this to be solved, I want us to be well", he admitted.
"My grandparents have been needing a bit more help, and my parents counted on me for it. And I feel like I haven't spent that much time with you, and I'm so sorry for it, but sometimes it just got too much. And I didn't want to burden you, you have your own things to worry about and this would be another thing. They're better now and this was probably a bad phase, but still", you explained.
Charles chuckled before he saw the confusion on your face, "no, I'm joking about this, amour. I'm glad they're better", he reasoned, "but I thought I was being a burden because I felt like I was clingy, like I needed you more than usual and that you had had enough. I didn't want to put more on your plate", he sighed.
Smiling at him, you moved your hand to caress his cheek, "you could never be too much, Charles. Sometimes I just need to deal with things on my own for a bit, even if there is help from someone else", you blushed.
"I know you need me to give you the space you need, that's why I didn't want to push you to talk about things, because as much as I want to craddle you in my arms forever and shield you away from the world's evil, I know you like to do things on your own, at least at first", he noted, earning your silent agreement, "but I'm here for you, always. I'm glad we worked that out", he smiled, pulling your face to his and kissing you deeply, only stopping when someone knocked on the door.
"I heard my favourite girl is back in the paddock, so I suggest you come out because I'm not feeling like I want to see whatever is going on there", your recognised Francisca's voice, getting up and opening the door to see Pierre by her side, "I told her she shouldn't interrupt you two, but she was very excited to know how the surprise went", he smiled.
"A very good surprise indeed, the best one ever", Charles said, pulling you in for one last kiss before he ventured out to the garage, a new feeling of confidence knowing you were there to watch him race.
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pianocat939 · 1 year ago
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Ok this isn't my usual content, but like hear me out. And no, this isn't like anything character related-
Just think of it...as like a scenario to fill in ig Girlie I don't fucking know, I'm just spewing words
Tw: kidnapping, stalking, mentions of violence
Ok so imagine.
There's like this drive. We'll call it Chestnut drive.
Just a typical neighbourhood street.
And on the last house, there's a married couple.
The husband, is like some super scary, really cold guy. He hates the world except for maybe his own wife. And he's a monster too- *ahem he was a thug back in his school days* But he is a handsome fucker.
And then you got the wife. Who's really nice, and never has any problems. Honestly, she's the one usually having to hide her husband's crimes.
Enter MC, who's a single person, getting the first ever house. Which ended up being right next to theirs. Everybody else doesn't go near their house, because of the husband. And yet, MC is totally clueless and ends up watching their feral dog in their yard.
The wife notices first, and strikes up conversation. She's eager to have someone new to talk to. She bakes desserts sometimes, and constantly tries to offer them to MC.
Guess who she gushes all about MC to? That's right- her husband. At first he's like creeped out and even a little jealous. But after watching you through your living room window a few nights a week, he’s realized why she’s so intrigued.
He finds MC so cute, all alone in their house. With no one but themselves really. Maybe the occasional friend over. In a way, he starts to grow protective of them, just like how he is with his wife.
Meanwhile, the wife is just obsessed to have someone to talk to who isn’t terrified of her husband. She’s constantly giving affection she tries to pass it off as platonic when honestly it’s borderline romantic
Their conversations at dinner went from a bit mundane to just simply rambling about you. Wondering which bedroom you should take, or if they should expand theirs completely.
Soon they invite you over to their house often. Just for the occasional meal or tea. Even showcasing their feral dog. (Tiny dog may I add)
MC doesn’t notice, but soon the couple’s house has little things that they like. If they like art? A few paint tubes or high-end coloured are thrown around the house. If they like music? Wow- they suddenly got a Steinway grand piano for them to play around with.
The husband is constantly checking if MC’s ok. Making sure they dress properly for the weather before they go back to their house. In any extreme weather conditions (blizzard, hurricane, rain- a shit ton of rain) he’ll just show up to their house with groceries.
The wife seems to love giving little cheek kisses and hugs. Always finding ways to present her cooking. She likes buying the occasional clothing item for them. Just something she thought would look quite fitting on them.
It’s all too late at some point, because the husband will haul them over his shoulder if they try to run away. He’ll carry them to their now big bedroom, enough for 3 people to share.
He’ll beat up anyone that tries looking for them. He doesn’t have those muscles for nothing.
The wife is just so happy to have MC in their bedroom. Giving snuggles and lots of coos of affection.
And with a kiss goodnight from both of them, MC finds themselves sandwiched between the two. Unable to move from the husband’s arms, or push off the wife who’s laying on top of them.
MC should just consider themselves as newly-wedded to this strange but surprisingly…functional couple.
(HELP- I JUST FELL DOWN A PIT OF SELF-INDULGENCE)
(I have so many ideas for this bullshit but I also have never written anything non-fandom related on this blog before…Other than my shitposts)
(Assuming I’ll probably make more, I’ll put the tag ‘Husband Wife Trio’ lmao)
- Celina
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