#Swedish word for ending (affectionate)

[langernameohnebedeutung]

Brainless In Seattle (Part 2)

[cillianhead]

Hey! I was wondering if you could write a little smutty/angsty something for Neil Lewis. Maybe bestfriend!reader, who recently got with some other man, and Neil is incredibly jealous and maybe... possessive. 👀 Some angst heated argument finished with a smut would be lovely. 🤭

Thank you!

Of course, of course!

Thank you for your request!

You're The Only One Who Makes Me Feel Alive || Neil Lewis x Reader

warnings: Smut, angst, best friends to lovers, swearing, slight (?) drug use (marijuana), jealousy, unprotected P in V, Neil is quite obsessed with reader's boobs (because c'mon, NEIL IS A BOOB MAN!!!) like sort of switch!neil but not quite, adult content!

18+ Minors DNI

It was a slow Friday night at Gumshoe Video. You had closed by now, though. You sat between Lucien and Jonathan, a bit stoned, and watched some horrible Horror-Parody film called 'Bad Taste'. You had zoned out, drowning out Jonathan and Lucien's incessant bickering about the film and whether it was good or bad.

"-It's Peter Jackson, for Christ's sake. It's a masterpiece of its time or whatever," Lucien argued. Jonathan just scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's supposed to be ridiculous!" Lucien protested.

"Are we watching the same movie?" Jonathan grunted with a hint of amusement. "How the hell did someone see this and think... 'yeah, that's the guy we're getting for Lord of the fucking Rings'!"

Lucien quipped back something particularly witty and sarcastic, but it all turned into one big blur of words to you. You were incredibly bored and stoned that none of what was happening on the TV screen made sense. You looked like a zombie, lips parted and an expression of awe on your face.

"Not this stupid movie," You heard the sound of Neil's voice from behind you. Quickly sitting up and turning to look at him, like an expectant dog when its owner comes home. "I've got the snacks if you guys even care." Lucien and Jonathan grumble their words of appreciation while you just sat and smiled at your best friend.

You all had smoked together, but you hadn't really prepared for the munchies that would come along with it. So you flipped a coin, and poor little Neil was the one who had to go to the nearest convenience store and buy as much junk food as he could carry. Two seafoam green plastic grocery bags were hanging off of Neil's sturdy forearms that said 'Recycle Me!' on them while he stood, smiling back at you.

"What'd you get Neily-poo?" You hummed, standing up and approaching him.

"I hate it when you call me that," Neil grumbled before handing you one of the bags. "I just got all the classic snacks... Cheetos, Twizzlers, Lucien's favorite white chocolate... and of course, I got your favorite..."

You squealed out of delight, lunging on Neil and wrapping your arms around him. "Did you really?" You said, pulling away with your arms still around his neck. Neil hummed while pulling the familiar mouth-watering box of Swedish Fish out of the grocery bag.

You properly pulled away now and snatched it out of his hand greedily. "Hey...! Wait... where's my thanks?" He tilted his head, tapping his pointer finger on the apple of his cheek. You rolled your eyes playfully before placing a grateful peck on his cheek.

You two sat on the spare couch together. You leaned against Neil, as you always do, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you. It had always been that way with you two, both very physically affectionate with each other. Though not when Neil was in a relationship, you knew how threatened his girlfriends felt by you, though you never understood why... Neil was always insistent on how you were just a friend, even going as far as to say you were like a sister to him.

When the movie ended and Neil had a bit more to smoke, you all sat around munching on your snacks, thinking of what to do next.

"Do you guys wanna come over to my place, and we can do this again tomorrow night?" Neil asked, scratching at his chin.

"Sure, I'd love that, dude," Jonathan nodded before popping a handful of peanut M&M's into his mouth. "Sounds great." He said with his mouth full.

"Gross!" You scolded, throwing a piece of popcorn at him. "Don't eat with your mouth full..."

"What did you just say?" Lucien laughed.

"I mean... don't talk with your mouth full!" You corrected, and everyone sat around giggling at that. "You knew what I meant!" Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment at your mistake.

"...and yeah, I'll come over tomorrow night." Lucien said to Neil. Neil gave him a thumbs up before turning his head over to you.

"How about you, Y/N?" Neil hummed, sighing as he leaned his head against the couch, cheek smushing a bit as he smiled softly down at you. He's so pretty, I just wanna kiss him, You thought."You wanna come over?" Yikes, you thought. You bit your lip and sucked in a breath. "Well... I... well... actually, I've got plans tomorrow, guys... I'm sorry." You shrugged apologetically.

"What?" Jonathan murmured, mouth still full, chewing obnoxiously loud.

"Since when do you have plans?" Lucien remarked. You gave him a dry smile.

"I'm going on a date... believe it or not," You snorted, looking down at your lap, embarrassed to admit. You never really talked about your love life with the guys, especially not Neil. Things always got awkward. Neil never discussed his with you either; you'd only briefly meet his girlfriends, and then that was it. You didn't understand why it had to be so awkward between you when discussing dating.

The room went silent at that. You looked towards Neil, his arm retracted away from you and tucked back into his side as you noticed the frown on his face. You could see the look on Jonathan and Lucien's faces, eyes flickering between the two of you, trying to gauge some sort of reaction.

"Oh..." Neil mumbled, sounding disappointed, popping a popcorn kernel into his mouth and chewing dryly. "Good for you... congratulations..."

"We're not getting married," You laughed uncomfortably. "Plus, I doubt it's gonna be anything that special... we're going to some downtown dive bar to have drinks and then probably go back to his place or something..." Neil had a visible expression of distaste, fiddling with his thumbs. You didn't get why he was so upset. "What's his name?" He said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Russell."

"Russell." He repeated coldly. Jonathan and Lucien were utterly silent. The tension was thick, and trying to waft through it felt suffocating.

"Why are you upset?" You blurted out. "Can't you at least be happy for me for once that I'm finally fucking going out with somebody?"

""Course I'm happy for you, Y/N, I just don't want you... to get hurt..." Neil muttered. "That's all."

"Right." You scoffed, scooting to the other side of the couch.

The tension was unbearable, and Jonathan shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Things always got weird when you brought up a guy you like or a guy you were seeing. You never got why. Why would Neil be upset that you were seeing somebody? How many girlfriends did you have to sit and watch him be with? How many painful breakups have you comforted him through? How many times had you encouraged him to go over and talk to a girl he thought was pretty? A countless amount of times, that's what. So the fact that the mood visibly shifted as soon as you said you were going on a date... it pissed you off. Neil was never encouraging when it came to putting yourself out there romantically. It was almost like he was jealous, but you knew he had no reason to be.

"How'd you meet?" Lucien cleared his throat, trying to lighten the air.

"Well when I was here alone the other day... he was in the shop-"

"He was in the shop?" Neil interrupted with a whine, eyebrows knitted together.

"Yeah, he was, so what?" You turned and looked at Neil, glaring at him.

"Can't believe you're going out with a customer," Neil muttered. "Thought you were better than that." "What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"It... no... nothing, just-" "God forbid I meet someone!" You were standing up now. Lucien and Jonathan had gotten up and wandered over to the other side of the shop, pretending they were browsing the shelves. "How many fucking bimbos have you asked out that had come in here, Neil?" "Y/N-" "I'm leaving." You barked, grabbing your things and rushing out, not before giving Lucien and Jonathan a gentle wave before slamming the door and walking home in the pouring rain.

The walk home was long and treacherous. Usually, Neil would drive you home. But you couldn't stand to be around him right now, not after his hypocritical words. When you got home, you collapsed in bed, still in your wet clothes, and cried your eyes out. Thunder cracked outside, and your windows rattled with the harsh wind. Your phone began to ring, the familiar ringtone you assigned to Neil's contact buzzing through your pocket. You just groaned.

"Go away, Neil." You grunted into your pillow, bickering to no one. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Curling up into a ball, the tears continued to fall. You hated the way you felt towards Neil; you hated that you wanted him to be more than just a friend. Your phone kept ringing, and it only made you cry harder.

You remembered freshman year of high school when you first met Neil; you instantly clicked and were in every class together. Everyone always thought you were dating, and you'd both share a round of 'Ew's and 'That's never gonna happen' and then silently look at each other thinking 'What if' (unbeknownst to each other). You always daydreamed about losing your virginity to Neil, the scrawny, awkward pimply boy who was the sweetest guy you'd ever met, though you ended up losing it to some guy called Lloyd over a dare. It wasn't very romantic, nor was it pleasurable. You just laid there and thought about Neil the whole time.

The sleep you got that night was terrible, but you tried to focus on the positives. You were going on a date! Yay! Not with Neil, though. You spent the day mostly picking out an outfit, mentally scolding yourself for not deciding on it sooner since most of your good clothes were dirty and you were feeling incredibly antsy. Your phone had been blowing up all day. Texts from Neil, Jonathan, and Lucien lit up your screen every other second. You didn't reply, you couldn't, you felt entirely too embarrassed.

Meanwhile, Lucien lounged on the couch at Neil's house, and Jonathan watched Neil pace back and forth in his kitchen while making handmade whipped cream. They were going to make a cake.

"I just don't know what to do, man," Neil huffed, stirring the bowl even more aggressively. Jonathan watched, unsure of how to comfort his friend. "What the fuck do I do? What if this guy is like... her soulmate or something cliche like that?"

"Okay," Jonathan laughed, putting his hand in the air. "Russell is not her soulmate." "How do you know? Have you met him?" Neil hissed back.

"No, but... how do we even know this 'Russell' guy even exists? What if she's just trying to make you jealous?"

"That's a good point!" Lucien quipped in from the other room.

"Thanks, Lucien," Jonathan rolls his eyes before looking back at Neil, who has set the bowl aside, melting to the floor with tears. "Look... dude, I think you should go over there and tell her how you feel... the worst she can say is no..."

"The worst she can say is no," Neil mocked, tears streaming down his face. "Yeah fuckin' right! She's gonna..." Neil sobbed, hiding his hands in his face. "I'll go over there, and she'll... never want to speak to me again... she wouldn't feel the same way... it's impossible!"

Jonathan looked exasperated. It was painfully apparent to everyone but you and Neil that you two were soft for each other. You usually spend every day together. The idea of losing you to some other guy was heartbreaking for Neil. Neil cried like a baby, and Jonathan watched, awkwardly leaning against the counter, unsure what to say.

"Just fucking do it, you fucking idiot!" Jonathan blurted out. "I know she likes you... do you really think Y/N would've stuck around this long with us losers if she didn't feel something for you?"

"I don't know, Jonathan..." Neil whimpers, looking up at Jonathan with the most pitiful eyes anyone has ever seen. He looked straight out of a painting.

"And even if she doesn't feel the same for you..." Jonathan continues, crouching down to be at his height on the floor. "You guys have known each other way too damn long to just throw away a good friendship over you liking her. Y/N's a smart girl. She'll learn to accept it if she doesn't feel the same way."

Neil just buried his face further into his knees, continuing to cry. "Gee, you'd think he just got his period or something." Lucien said unhelpfully.

"Shut up, Lucien!" Neil and Jonathan yelled in unison.

"Listen, I think you should just tell her... she ain't responding to any of my texts... and I don't know how it's gonna go with this Russell guy tonight, so I reckon you should head on over there..." Jonathan rambled. Neil still stayed in the same place, with his head in his hands. "Like right now!" Jonathan yelped, and Neil jumped at the sudden shift in volume and tone.

Neil approached your house as you sat in some dive bar, waiting for your date. His key twisted your locked door. Unbeknownst to him, the house was completely empty. And as he walked in, Russell was yet to arrive, over twenty minutes late to your date. At this point, you'd accepted that you had been stood up and patted yourself down, ensuring you had everything you brought.

"Y/N!" Russell's voice greets you, clearly out of breath. "I'm so sorry for being late... traffic was awful." Yeah, right, you thought. But you gave him a small smile and sat back in your booth. "That's alright," You pressed down your skirt that rested uncomfortably high on your thighs, trying to calm your nerves. The leather of the seats stuck to your thighs as Russell began making small talk. How boring. You found yourself zoning out as you downed the drink Russell had bought you just to try and cope with the terribly grim situation you were dealing with. Russell was some sort of accountant. Just the idea of finance lulled your brain into a state of boredom and borderline sleepiness. Russell's voice was monotone, and the way he licked his cracked lips every time he spoke made you feel queasy.

Meanwhile, Neil sat on your couch, spread out and feeling hopeless. No other person could ever compare to you, never ever, ever, ever. The thought of you meeting this guy he didn't know anything about except for his god-awful name and possibly hitting it off... maybe starting a life with him... the jealousy was sickening. Genuinely sickening.

It was festering within him, after all these years of watching men come into the store and flirt with you, the jealousy... the possessiveness... that another man talking to his Y/N... brought on was just too much for poor little Neil to handle. The jealousy was now fuelling the reason he still stayed. As soon as you walked through that door, with Russell or not, he'd get on his hands and knees... and beg you to love him... beg you to love him the way he loves you.

An hour went by... and then another, by now, it was nearing 10:30 PM, and Neil wasn't even sure if you were coming home. He then remembered your words of 'going back to his place afterwards' and felt like the biggest idiot in the whole world. He felt like he had lost you... like he was mourning you. His heart broke silently, and the heavyweight in his chest grew to be too intense, too blue to even cry. So he stood up and sighed, looking around your apartment before saying his goodbyes. I won't be over much now that she has a boyfriend, Neil thought. But as he turned around, about to walk out the door, there you stood with your key still in the lock looking at him like you'd look at an angel.

"Neil?" You asked softly as if it could possibly be anyone else.

"Y/N," He gasped, rushing to you, hands reaching out to you. "Please listen to what-" "Who's this?" Russell asks with a scoff, leaning on the doorway. Neil backed away like he had just entered a cock-fight he knew he couldn't win.

"Russell..." You shifted to look at him. "I think it's better if you just go... we can... we can see each other another time." "Yeah, alright," Russell shrugged, playing it cool but Neil saw the flicker of annoyance flash through the man's eyes. Russell turned back around and left, leaving the two of you alone.

"What are you doing here, Neil?" You chided, closing the door and deadbolting it behind you before walking over to the couch with Neil.

"I... I need to talk to you..." Neil whispered. You sat right beside each other, staring into each other's eyes. A feeling grew in your chest like you knew what he was about to say. "Y/N..."

"Neil..."

"I..." He faltered, his eyes looking down at his lap as he reached out, holding both your hands in his. Your heart did a spin at this, lips parted as you breathed heavily. What is happening? "I.... fuck... I don't know how to do this," Neil pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, clearly about to cry. "I've watched so many goddamn movies you'd think I... you'd think I'd have the right thing to say."

"Neil," You whispered, your voice coming out like a warning. "Just say it."

Neil looked up at you, speechless. The expression on his face was truly indescribable. Almost like a dramatic build-up, the room was silent, giving each other this look. This look you had never openly given to each other before.

"I don't want to kill my time with anybody else," Neil began, taking deep breaths. The sounds of cars passing by and trees swaying in the wind could be heard, along with the pounding of your heart. "You're the only one who makes me feel alive."

"Neil," You warned, looking away from him. "Why now?" You blurted out, quickly smacking your hand over your loose mouth.

"Wha...?" Neil asked, torn completely out of the moment by just those two words.

"Why are you telling me this now?" You questioned. Your hands ran down your face. "Why, Neil, Why?"

"What do you mean?" Neil shook his head, eyebrows knitted together. "What do you mean?!"

You were standing up now, you couldn't be close to him, you felt too dizzy. "After all these years... why are you only telling me this now?"

"I-I... I..." Neil stammered, utterly speechless this time. He wasn't expecting this reaction, he couldn't quite place what you were feeling. "I was afraid, Y/N."

"Of what?" You raised your voice and he flinched and suddenly the guilt hit you like a freight train. Tears fell down your face, ruining your makeup.

"Of losing you! Losing the only person in my life who actually matters!" Neil stood up as well, approaching you. Like a game of cat and mouse, you stepped away while he kept trying to round the coffee table to get to you. "I need you, Y/N. I need you to know how badly," He pleaded with you, but you couldn't find a way to let him further into your heart. He'd hit bone if he went any further into it.

"Neil, I don't know anymore! You're so confusing!" You screeched as he bumped into you, knocking you down onto the couch and he knelt in front of you, pleading eyes staring up at you. "I don't know what you want from me!" You cried.

"I want everything," He whispered, hands placed on both of your thighs. "I want to be yours... I want you to be mine. How do I make this any clearer?"

"I don't... I don't have you," You felt like you were being torn apart. "You don't want me. You just... you're just confused! You don't want me! You want..." You closed your eyes, thinking about the women Neil had dated. You felt like he wouldn't be satisfied with you... you felt like you weren't pretty enough or you were too boring or too familiar. "I don't have you... Neil... and I never will."

"You've always had me. Every second of every day... you've had me. I'm yours." Neil whispered, hands squeezing your thighs. "Please. I need to know."

"Need to know what?" "That you'll take me," His fingers travelled further up your goosebump-covered skin. "That you'll let me in, Y/N."

"How?" Your hands shook as you looked him in the eye again. This time... it felt like you were looking at a completely different man. It was no longer just your best friend you were looking at... but the man pleading with you to love him as if you hadn't been silently loving him from afar... all these years.

"Please let me show you."

Neil used his hands to balanced himself as he slowly and intimately leaned in, lips brushing yours every-so slightly. "Neil..." You whispered.

"Shh...." He hushed.

And your lips joined together. It felt like your body had let him in, like he was rewriting your DNA and letting every part of him consume you. He sat beside you now, cradling you in his arms as you kissed slowly. This was all so new to you, unlike any other kiss you had ever experienced. Every other kiss before this just felt like you were trying to negotiate something... but this... this kiss felt like your body had found its missing limb like it had found what it had been lacking all these years.

A string of spit connects the two of you as Neil softly pulls away, panting for breath. "Am I in yet?" He chuckled.

You tilted your head, squinting and stroking your chin, pretending you were struggling to decide. "Maybe... I don't know yet... think you'll have to try harder..." Your voice was still a bit shaky from crying. "Alright," He snorts before diving back in and kissing you rougher this time but still in that romantic, slow way. One hand placed on your hip and the other guiding the back of your head as you made out. Tongues pawing at each other like they were getting acquainted.

"Please touch me," Neil whimpered into your lips, and oh fuck, that was the most divine noise you had ever heard. "Please." "Only 'cause you asked so nicely..." You hummed, pushing him down and straddling him. You watched as he threw his head back, biting his lip and holding back the noises he so desperately wanted to make at the feeling of you sitting on him. Your fingers fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, watching him writhe underneath you at only the slightest touch. You popped each button out individually and slowly until Neil was groaning with annoyance.

"Don't be such a tease, Y/N," Neil grunted from behind gritted teeth once you had his shirt off. "If you felt how hard my dick was right now-"

"Oh, I do!" You giggled cheekily, slowly rolling your pelvis in a slow circle right over the tent in his trousers that poked into your thigh.

"You fucker-" He groaned, reaching his arms up and grabbing your head roughly and pulling you into a soul-sucking kiss, tongue grappling at yours desperately.

You moaned through dancing lips as you had the most delicious friction going. Neil was being just as loud as you, whimpers vibrating through your sternum and into your soul. Neil bucks his hips up pathetically before he breaks the kiss abruptly.

"You've gotta stop or I'm... I'm gonna..." He buried his muzzle in your neck and moaned. "I'm gonna fuckin cum in my pants." "Oh yeah?" You grinned, grinding your hips even faster.

"That means stop!" He grabs ahold of your wrists and flips you around like you were in a wrestling competition. You gasped out as he had you down against your couch, panting heavily above you with that frustrated-and-horny look. "I knew you'd be a little brat." He spat menacingly before grinning like a puppy, leaning down and kissing you heavily.

You ran your hands up your shirt, trying to pull your shirt off which made Neil pull away slowly when he realized you were taking your top off. "Are you sure?" He said breathily, above you, mouth wide open and his eyes glued on every inch of skin that was slowly being revealed more and more. You just nodded your head and smiled. "Oh fuck, you're showing me your boobs." Neil's eyes lit up like a kid in a candy shop. "Neil," You giggled as you got the top off and out came your tits, and there was Neil sitting there in disbelief at the sight of your boobs. "Neil!" You laughed, hitting him with a cushion; he smacked it away before looking back down at them with this look that almost resembled a look of horror. "Stop looking at me like that!"

"Fucking hell, this is the best thing to ever happen to me," Neil chirped. "Fuck... please, Y/N... please let me squeeze them."

"Go ahead, Neil, touch me," You hummed, raising your arms above your head and leaning back with a Cheshire cat grin as his hands slowly and cautiously cusp your boobs. He let out a soft moan and let his eyes flutter shut as he slid his hands over your breasts, you could hear his breath hitch as his thumb slid over your hard nipples. "You're acting like you haven't touched a boob before," You snickered.

"Oh, believe me, I have..." Neil nodded, eyes open now and staring at your tits like he was high. "Just none as good as these..." He leaned in, hot breath fanning your left breast, lips parted but he doesn't go any further than that.

"Put it in your mouth, pretty boy," You demanded, and like the sub you always thought he was, he obeyed with a smile. "Fuck... that's it." The tops of his cheeks were flushed a gentle pink as he sucked and swirled his tongue around your nipple. "Mmm...." He hummed, eyes closed. His full body weight was resting on you while he sucked on your tits, switching between them. You laid there for quite a while and wondered how long he could do this. You braided your fingers through his hair before tugging it back roughly, and he unwillingly popped off your tit with a loud and whoreish whine.

"Hey!" He complained with eyebrows knitted together as his eyes looked between your eyes and spit-covered tits. He's so spoiled.

"I always knew you'd be a little brat." You said, repeating what he said to you earlier.

Neil drools on you helplessly, groaning as you pull on his hair more until you two are sitting up facing each other. You grin once more and lean in, giving him a sweet little kiss. His hands cupping your tits desperately.

"Carry me to the bedroom." You hummed dramatically, raising your arms in the air, and Neil shook his head and chuckled as he leaned down and wrapped you up in his arms.

"I'm so glad you're my best friend," Neil murmured into your warm shoulder as he padded you guys down to the bedroom he had been in countless times.

"Not just best friends, though," You remarked as he laid you down on the bed with your legs over his shoulders. He reached towards your bedside table.

"Condoms?" He hummed, searching through your drawers, but found nothing.

"Birth control... you should know this you idiot!" You giggled at Neil realizing what you just said.

"Can I...?"

"Yes!"

"Like... inside?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"Yes!" You nodded your head, laughing wildly.

"Fuck you're gonna be the best girlfriend ever!" Neil grunted happily before leaning in and kissing you like you were his last meal.

Meanwhile, he slid your skirt down and unzipped his trousers. You caught a glimpse of his thick cock straining against his briefs and found yourself growing wetter.

"Let me make you mine, Y/N..." He whispered. "Let me finally make you mine."

"I've been yours," You caressed his face. You were both out of your underwear now. The tip of his prick nudging your clit as you looked up at him with so much love. "Please... Neil... please... I need you so bad."

Neil nodded silently, closing his eyes as he lined up his aching cock with your dripping cunt. The initial push in made your mind go blank and your spine arch even further into his touch, Neil moaned as he pushed himself into you fully.

"I can't believe this is happening..." Neil whispered. "This is so much better than I ever imagined it to be."

"You thought about me?" You grinned idiotically, high on the way he was stretching you out.

"Fuck," He groaned, hair falling over his pretty face. "Every fuckin' night."

"Me too."

His hands were placed firmly on your hips, and as he receded back until it was just the head of his cock in you, his fingers slid up to grope at your tits that his eyes had been practically glued on all night. Neil fucked you nice and slow, relishing in the way your pussy felt around him. Your hands were gripping the sheets, legs still thrown over his shoulders and mouth spewing incoherent words of pleasure.

"Neil... baby... oh my god," Your eyes so desperately wanted to shut but you wanted to enjoy how pretty he looked above you. "I love you."

Those words hung heavy in the air for a moment, Neil's hips never faltering as he leaned down and kissed you. "I love you, Y/N." Neil whispered against your hot mouth.

That was all you needed to hear. His cock slid in and out of you, both groaning and moaning as your bodies finally became one. Neil's mouth hung agape against yours, breathing in each other's air. Neil's face was flushed a bright red, pupils blown wide, and his hair messy from how you ran your fingers through it. Your noses brushed together as his pelvis rutted against your clit, dick still so deep inside you.

"I love you so much," Neil panted, thrusting into you desperately. "I always have..."

"Love you..." You whimpered, eyes fluttering shut and your arms slithering around his neck as the pleasure consumed you from the inside out. "So much... Neil..."

Neil pressed a kiss to your cheek, nuzzling your face as he ground into you. "Fuck, please let me cum inside you."

"I'm so close, Neil..." You whispered. "Just hold on a little longer."

Neil grunted. A pyramid of pleasure building within you, ready to crash down and crumble inside of you. Your orgasm grew like a million tiny vines curling around each individual nerve until you saw colors you had never seen before.

"Squeezing me so tight," Neil whined. "I need to cum... please..."

"Cum," You commanded and he did.

Coming undone together felt like it was truly sealing your fate. You had never felt so close to him; you knew you could and would spend the rest of your life with him. He mewled into the crook of your neck, cum spilling into you as you convulsed, orgasm swallowing you whole and ridding you of all your senses. All you felt was him and the impending pleasure devouring you. Neil's whimpers only further pushed you over the edge.

"Y/N," He moaned like a whore. "Fuck... Y/N..." He whined right into your ear as his cock continued to fill you with his warm cum.

Your brain couldn't conceive a proper thought. You couldn't will yourself to speak as he collapsed on top of you. You smile as you lay there together, skin on skin, hearts pounding in sync. Neil pulled out of you with a quiet hiss, picking you up and curling up with you under the sheets.

You looked at each other silently, both still calming down. Your thumb drew infinity signs onto his cheekbone, slowly blinking at the boy you had always wanted- no, needed.

"That was the best thing to ever happen to me," Neil whispered, sleepy eyes looking at you full of adoration. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me." Neil pecked you softly on the lips. "I can't believe it took me this long to tell you... I... I'm sorry." "Shh..." You hushed. "It's okay... we're together now... that's all that matters."

You lay in silence once more, hearts still pounding in your chests. You took in every detail of him, which you had memorized countless times before, but this time it was different. It felt much more intimate. Every crease, every freckle... every tiny minuscule detail of him was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

"Does this mean we're boyfriend-girlfriend now?" Neil chuckled, rolling over onto his back, pulling you into his side.

"Shut up, Neil," You giggled. "You're such a dork."

"You love it." He quipped.

"I do," You agreed. "I love you."

"I love you," Neil smiled sweetly, and as he leaned in to kiss you again, you were quickly interrupted by the sound of Neil's phone ringing. "Fuck me," He grunted, reaching down to grab at his jeans where his phone was. "Hello?" He said with a sour face. "Hi, Jonathan, everything is okay... yes, she's here with me..." Neil looked down at you with a smirk. "Yes, Lucien can borrow my goggles... I don't care... can we talk about this later?" Neil hung up and tossed his phone aside before looking back at you with a sheepish smile.

"What was that about?"

"Well... erm... Jonathan just asked if everything went well... between us..." Neil blushed.

"He knows you're here?"

"He's the reason I came over... he gave me the courage to... y'know... tell you how I feel."

You rolled your eyes and laughed before kissing him deeply. You felt like everything was okay. Now that you had Neil in your arms, you could handle anything that life threw at you. Neil was already planning your wedding in his head as you shared the love between you in a kiss. You wouldn't want it to be anyone else

-

I NEED NEIL LEWIS.... LIKE RIGHT NOW!!! Ugh, I love him so much. Anyway, hope you enjoyed <3

[nagdabbit]

20 Questions for Writers

tagged by the ever lovely and incomparable @sybilius 💜

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

22

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

251,933

3. What fandoms do you write for?

aew/wrestling right now, stranger things in the fairly recent past, marvel in the far distant past but those fics have been lost to time and we're not gonna revisit them ever

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

all of my top five are st harringrove fics, which checks out

lamp-bright rind - celebrity chef billy, unable to cook lawyer steve, they're neighbors, there's mistaken identities, there's cooking lessons, there's healing, there's kittens named after varying kinds of pasta

lit up like a match - soulmate au with trans billy. the idea being, what name would appear on your soulmate if you were trans

keep me in your glow - a sequel/companion to lit up like a match

sugar, butter, flour - the first st fic i wrote, a tiny stranger than fiction-ish au, but without the author narration

to carry within us an orchard - a prequel to lamp-bright rind where billy and robin get extremely drunk and bond

5. Do you respond to comments?

i used to be really good about it, but about the time i was finishing lamp-bright rind, i had what i affectionately refer to as a "hit burnout so goddamn hard i lost my entire mind and will to take part in the ever-loving hell of online existence" and just like. stopped writing for a long while. and as i started getting back into writing, and actually logged in to ao3, the number of comments in my inbox genuinely frightened me and the imposter syndrome portion of burnout recovery hit like a freight train, and i still just can't figure out how to make myself hit reply. i cherish the ones that i do get tho. like, so nuch

this has been ✨🌟 therapy appointments are only so long we haven't made it to that part yet 🌟✨ with your friend daggs

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i don't think ive written anything with an angsty ending, now that i think about it. not posted, at the very least. the choked out series, if id ever got around to still caring about it enough to finish it, would have had an HELLA angsty ending (the draft after mox left wwe and popped up to attack elias)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

lamp-bright rind. just pure golden softness. the dewy soft, morning light, quiet of a kitchen with your beloved, while a ring box weighs down your pocket kind of happy.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not since the way back of the marvel fandom, when i could scarcely sting a sentence together

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i have, but not well and i generally stay away from writing it

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

never been posted, but there is a hobbs and shaw/13 rounds 3: lockdown wip that lives forever in my docs and will never be published

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that ive ever seen

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, but i think it would be fun!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

oof. shit. eddie/mox (/renee). they compel me.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i feel like the bookshop will never get finished and i hate it. like, i know how it's supposed to end, so, just gotta get there

16. What are your writing strengths?

pfft i have no goddamn idea

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

too many words for too little meaning

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i don't think ive included other languages in what fics ive posted, so i haven't actually had to think about how id do it all that much recently. i dont speak a second language, despite my entire family being and speaking swedish, so i feel like i struggle with using other languages in my writing. like, i have no real or true context for how this conversation would go, so i feel like i fumble and use the wrong words or sentence structure

whatever language is being spoken, i like to actually see it in fics. like, i don't like to see it already translated and in english until I've reached the end of the fic. when im in it, i like to actually hear the language and use the context of the story to understand it. or if the narrator isn't the one speaking, have them translate it in character, however (un)reliable they might be. that's just a personal preference tho

19. First fandom you wrote for?

i was a bandom baby in the way back of middle school and that's as close as we're getting and we will speak no more of it

20. Favorite fic you've written?

probably come through callin'

it just. kinda happened very suddenly, at a time when i really needed it and it's just really, extremely important to me

tagging anyone and everyone reading this, if you can read it you have been tagged tell em daggs sent ya

[thedelicatedimsum]

#DimsumCinema A Man Called Otto (2023): Moving On with Grief for There Are Moments to Cherish...

January 24, 2023.

I just watched A Man Called Otto with my friends. Long story short, I was pretty much skeptical yet curious about this movie.

The first time I saw the movie poster, I have to admit that I'm not really sure this can be a good one since the other casts were not on my radar. So I thought, yeah maybe it will be a flop.

Then it keeps popping up on my social media, and everyone said it was a good movie. It's this and that will make you ugly cry. This is what actually challenge me — okay, I need to watch this movie. I love Tom Hanks as an actor anyway!

I was seated for 2 hours and ended up overwhelmed with lots of feelings. This movie is beyond words for me to describe. It got a slow-paced moment but there's always laughter in some bits that you can't hide from. It's familiar.

Oh, since a couple of years back I never watched the trailer or synopsis of the movie — well, maybe just a slight when it was advertised. This also brings me a new level of excitement to watching new movies in the cinema. You either will be surprised or disappointed.

Just like life.

Otto's story was really an eye-opening moment, just like my friend said as we walked down the escalator to the parking lot.

The moment we walked, I saw these people coming out of their office at 9:15 PM. Meanwhile, I finished work at 05.00 PM. This is a blessing until you finally realize it.

Adapted from the best-seller book written by Fredrik Backman, Otto or Ove is a lonely grumpy, and strict old man. Yet there's a thing we probably don't see. He's actually very attentive and affectionate somehow. And I just knew that there was a Swedish version before this one. I might watch it soon and get ugly crying again. Haha!

Otto seemed like he only got angry. He despises saying thank you for a tasty meal from his neighbor. As a token of gratitude, he said it strangely too formal like notes for your lecturer on a meal box instead. He seemed awkward with children when it was actually the moment he longed for together with Sonya.

What people need are ears to listen, a shoulder to lean on, and a friend who understands and accepts them for who they are. Some people just lost somewhere, and actually would love to have you around while doing their things.

His relationship with Sonya is one of true love. It reminds me of Ricky Gervais' After Life series too. Otto and Tony were pictured as people who has normal boring life long before they met their partner; their color.

Then what if we lose one? That is only one person. It is really heartbreaking indeed to finally face the moment you lost someone who really understands you and loves you for who you are.

You can be angry, you can be sad, and know everything would never be the same anymore. But life goes on.

Death is something that we can't escape. Maybe one day, on your bed? Or perhaps after you sip the best coffee you've tasted? We'll never know.

It is written for the last page of our life. Until it's time when the bell to ring for you...

Enjoy the moment, enjoy the present. Let the past become your strength to overcome life surprises. Cherish every little thing at the moment.

[robot-roadtrip-rants]

Ok, gratuitous abuse of Google Translate indicates that Swedish and Norwegian use "far" and Icelandic uses "fodur" (but with a fancy Icelandic d) to mean "father." Since we're talking about Warhammer 40k, where everything is a demented bastardization (affectionate) of actual names, cultures, and languages, I think we can conclude that the "var" of "aett-var" is the father section of "pack-father."

Further abuse of Google Translate reveals that Swedish/Norwegian use "mor" and Icelandic uses "modur" (also with a fancy Icelandic d) to mean "mother." Therefore, the feminine conjugation of "aett-var" would be some variation of "aett-mor." The question is, what would that variation be? Again, this is 40k--we have to distort "mor" in some silly way to make it fit the setting. Fortunately, I have rolled a nat 20 on my Skill Use: Logic and have reached a FLAWLESS CONCLUSION.

You see, in all this talk about fathers and mothers, we've completely ignored another important member of the Germanic family, German itself. The German word for father is "vater." NOTE THE V! Clearly GW stole the V from vater and glued it on top of the F in far to get the Fenrisian var. Logically, we must do the same to find the Fenrisian word for mother. Now, the German word for mother, "Mutter" (long U, btw), also begins with an M, and we can't just glue an M on top of another M. But if we cut the word down to its first syllable, we get "mut"--it ends in T instead of R! Therefore, I propose that the Fenrisian word for mother is "mot," and by extension the word for pack-mother is "aett-mot."

In conclusion, I would like to state that my logic is flawless and I will not be accepting any criticism from native speakers of any of the languages used in this post, despite speaking none of them myself. Yes this includes English. All of my posts have been faithfully translated from Moonspeak with Google Translate.

Ulfar. Ulfar, the feminine equivalent of pack-father is pack-mother. This isn't complicated. Do you not know the word for "mother" in your native language.

[mccall-me-maurice]

A new list of headcanons for the updated AU

Lotf headcanons

Jack:

Jack is Ralph’s academic rival and also head of the debate team. He spends the weekends at his father’s business, learning how to run the company. On the Saturday nights, he goes to an underground club in a fight ring thing. Nobody knows he does it, even though Ralph also spends time there.

Jack is dyslexic and has minor and manageable OCD, denying using extra help for his dyslexia in classes.

Comes from a wealthy family with 6 siblings, his father divorcing his mother and marrying his step-mother who he pushes away because he’s angsty and shes “not his real mother.”

Loves 80s music so much, he’s a nerd for it.

Sings in the shower/bathroom like into a hairbrush in front of the mirror in his little towel like a nerd but he’s actually really good at singing.

Wears his uniform extremely sharply and very crisp like why so much effort.

He has hearing loss due to an accident in his childhood and he’s fluent in ASL, but doesn’t wear his hearing aids almost ever.

Ralph:

Ralph is fluent in violin, he’s actually really good at playing, he was also an ocean lifeguard and saved Jack’s life when he got caught in a current.

He wears thick framed glasses to read and has really swoopy handwriting thats illegible because it’s like messy calligraphy.

Ralph dives as a hobby and is so good at it, like scary good at diving perfectly.

He has beauty marks on his face that he lets people trace sometimes, ink usually adorning his cheeks.

Very French, extremely French. Fluent in the language.

Draws on his hands with different coloured pens and the designs are always so intricate like a mandala colouring book.

Also draws on the cuffs of his jeans and the rubber edge of his sneakers all the time.

Blushes very easily, will go red in a matter of seconds flat either when he’s flustered, embarrassed or angry.

Brothers with Robert.

Simon:

Spends all of his out of school time in his mother’s flower shop and can recite the meaning of most flowers if you ask him. His fingers are all bandaged up because of how much he cuts himself with knives when he’s removing stems or clippers.

He has epilepsy and faints frequently.

Is a fan of older musicals, like Grease, Dirty Dancing and Hairspray and makes the choir watch them with him.

Rarely spends time indoors, Simon is usually out biking around the neighbourhood or walking around with his friends from school.

Will paint rocks and gift them to people when he thinks they’re upset. Also does face painting at the school carnivals, because he never minds being alone in a booth when there is nobody there.

Speaks softly and is usually ignored in favour of people with louder opinions, but he’s usually right.

Roger:

His biological family died in a house accident, the only thing surviving being him and his cat Nastya, who he loves more than anything. Because of his parents death, he taught himself the rest of the Russian language, which they were already teaching him along with English. However, his heritage is East Asian and Russian.

He pierced his lip by himself, and even though it turned out fine, he got his ears done professionally.

Not very affectionate and will push people away, distancing himself because he doesn’t like the idea of anyone being close to him and get under his skin.

Dyed the back part of his hair on a whim and just liked it enough to keep it as a style.

Spends nights at Simon’s place instead of his own, finding more comfort in Simon’s house.

Sam:

Comes from a German family, but knows German, Italian and English.

He hates birthdays because he doesn’t understand why they are so important.

Hates social interactions and actively avoids them with a passion. He gets extremely nervous and just leaves abruptly when he gets too overwhelmed.

Younger than Eric by 6 minutes, which he routinely gets teased for.

Into super cheesy romantic movies because he loves the idea of a happy ending despite not having one himself.

Messes with his hair when he’s anxious, so it’s constantly messy and mussed.

Mega nail biter when he’s nervous.

Cousins with Jack.

Maurice:

Heavily touch reliant and when his friends don’t show him physical affection, he assumes the worst and gets very upset.

Heavily Italian, like so fucking Italian. His family hardly speaks English and he learned most of his from school.

Very passionate about science despite most people thinking he’s an idiot. He has some of the highest marks in his class.

Messes with things when he’s talking or uses hand gestures. Like if there’s a pen, he’s clicking it because it helps him concentrate.

Maurice has like a billion flannels and hoodies he just cycles through and it looks like he doesn’t change but no, it’s just that he owns a gazillion grey hoodies

His older sister when to an Ivy League school, so he owns a lot of stuff from it that he wears like sweaters or ball caps.

Eric:

Very sarcastic. his entire sense of humour is him bathing in his own sarcasm. It’s actually pretty well timed and kind of funny how he’s able to deadpan his jokes.

Very easily picks up on languages. He’s fluent or close to fluent in German, English, Italian, French, Spanish, Japanese and partly fluent in Korean.

Really enjoys computer science and plans on doing it for a living. He stays up late at night to work and sleeps until like midday.

Doesn’t acknowledge other people’s emotions very often because he doesn’t realise when he’s gone too far, but still feels bad for others when they’re hurt.

Jack’s favourite cousin because they’re cynical buddies. Jack is overly protective of him even though Eric is perfectly capable.

Robert:

Brothers with Ralph and is very protective over him. Has absolutely slandered choir members before for hating on Ralph.

Shares a dad with Ralph but has a different mom, who he visits over the summer and sometimes during the holidays. That’s where he gets his Spanish roots from, which is a language he’s fluent in. He has 7 siblings on that side of his family.

Adores burnt popcorn and burnt anything. If he can burn it, he will.

Works as a mechanic in his free time and built the car he shares with Ralph.

Sci-Fi nerd, specifically Star Wars. He loves the movies and watches them like every day.

Extremely talented artist, Robert sketches anytime he has a pencil and paper.

Peter:

Was bullied in the past but doesn’t let the words bother him anymore. It mostly stopped around high school.

Works with his auntie in the sweet shop and brings his friends food for them to taste test.

Used to be a boy scout, so he can tie any knot you want him to, it’s really a gift.

Gets very cold very easily, especially his fingertips. He usually has a pair of gloves on him for when it gets really bad.

A Mathlete for most of his time in high school, obviously is extremely intelligent.

Double knots his shoelaces so they’re extra secure.

Bill:

Swedish, and really enjoys his own culture. He will spend HOURS rambling about it and how much he loves it.

Watches Avatar the Last Airbender and has the biggest crushes on Sokka and Zuko.

Also is a sucker for people who wear glasses, he really loves them.

Works at the library despite not liking books, he finds comfort in shelving them and the order they go in.

Puts little umbrellas in every single drink he has, it doesn’t matter what it is.

Writes notes to himself on sticky notes because his memory is horrible.

Sets at least 5 alarms because 1 will not wake him up by itself.

Harold:

Can speak limited Spanish due to his schooling.

Likes singing, but never really got into it like some choir members because he has stage fright.

Powerful speaker when he wants to be, but is usually too nervous to say anything.

Has no idea how to tie a tie, so he lets other people do it for him.

Sometimes take sarcastic comments seriously and ends up confused.

A really good actor and loves the performing arts.

Has extremely clear skin, he never gets any blemishes.

Wilfred:

Dyed his hair because his naturally brown hair reminds him too much of his father, who he hates.

Has 4 tattoos in total, the 4 card suits on his cheek, a half sleeve of roses, a bow and olive branch on his inner forearm, and the solar system on his outer forearm.

Very flirtatious to people he doesn’t really like but gets nervous around those he does.

Hold grudges really well.

Has shockingly neat handwriting.

Has a pretty horrible home life but he never talks about it to anyone because he doesn’t want to be perceived as weak or incapable.

Colours with only crayons.

Percival:

Cries easily, as he’s very emotionally driven and is typically teased for being a crybaby or told to “toughen up.”

Absolutely has the worst sleep schedule ever, he gets 3 hours and calls it a win.

Can’t sleep without a nightlight on in his room.

Enjoys writing things down in this notebook instead of on his phone because he likes the feeling of physically using pen and paper.

Sends letters to people all the time instead of messaging.

Good at sewing, he makes his own Halloween costume every year by himself.

Hates horror movies because he’s spooked easily.

Max:

Lived through a house fire when he was younger, so he has burn scars all over his arms.

Is afraid of cooking due to the fire and will go without eating if he has to touch the stove to make food.

Laid back most of the time, but can reach a snapping point in which the emotion is amplified. (like sadness or anger)

Loves swimming, it doesn’t matter where he does it, he just loves to swim.

Is very time sensitive and has to get places early or directly on time or else he gets anxious.

A very fast reader, typically long books take him 2-3 days to get through.

Johnny:

Worries a lot, he usually sees the worst in every single situation.

Is a trans male (Ftm) and was accepted by his entire family when he came out.

Owns a St. Bernard named Dolly who is the sweetest dog ever.

Spends a lot of time outdoors, he still plays as if he is a child.

Also enjoys the snow a lot because he’s fond of building snowmen with the kids on his street.

Has very sensitive skin and eczema, which he doesn’t like to talk about or show anyone because it makes him feel insecure.

Oddly good at playing guitar, he just picks up on chords with ease.

Walter:

Good at playing the drums and annoys his entire family with it.

Uses a skateboard as his main method of transportation around places.

On the basketball team, as his older brother taught him to play when they were both younger.

Hates roller skating despite being very good at most things on wheels. He can never find his balance.

Shockingly good at Math, especially statistics and calculus. He’s in all advanced math courses.

Has a very weird snake addiction and he desperately wants to buy one.

Henry:

Aromantic Asexual who is best friends with Harold and Wilfred.

Mainly makes snippy remarks because his humour falls into the sarcasm umbrella.

Adores comic books and superheroes, specifically Marvel ones because he’s a fan of Dare Devil.

Plays baseball in his free time but hasn’t joined a team, he just plays with the boys in his neighbourhood.

Addicted to the High School Musical movies.

Good at painting people’s nails and will do it for them if they ask.

Has really fluffy hair that he lets people touch and play with.

[cinnachuu]

the overwatch women with cuddling hcs: pt. 1

a/n: I’ve been touched starved and I desperately miss writing so here’s some content for my favorite dead fandom <333

ASHE:

•oh good for you u got close enough to cuddle with this woman

•she likes being the big spoon regularly but after a long day she’ll reluctantly crawl into your arms

•she really enjoys playing with your hair and prefers to cuddle in silence, gently shushing sometimes

•she just likes spooning,, she feels safe and loved and comforted by the fact she has someone to hold

•if you’re standing or whatever she’ll wrap her arms loosely around your waist from behind and press a kiss to your cheek

•she’s not the touchiest person but in the morning you’ll find yourself pressed into her, Ashe’s arms tightly wrapped around you.

•she can’t really be a PDA person, as she has a reputation to uphold, but she’ll wrap an arm around you occasionally

BRIGITTE

•okay first off women ❤️❤️

•anyways she’s a big spoon

•she loves to just cradle and hold you after a long day, nuzzling her face into the crown of your head

•She’s more expressive through touch, as she tends to be a little flustered when expressing things verbally so expect her to hold you tightly and bring you super close to her

•she loves holding your hand or tangling your legs with her’s

•rambles about her day and everything that’s happened

•probably just tackles you on the couch and holds you and presses a peck to your nose, before bringing you close and asking how you’ve been

•if she’s been gone for a long time on a mission, she’ll be a pain when you ask her to let go

•you love it though :,)

D.VA

•hugs hugs hugs hugs hugs hugs hugs hugs hugs

•she doesn’t really care much about big spoon or little spoon, she just wants to hold you and be in your presence

•after the whole shooting star incident, she’ll come back from the hospital and break down sobbing in your arms, as you cradle her close and gently chide her for being so reckless as she tells you how much she loves you

•she gets all mushy after missions

•when working on repairs she’ll drag you into the mech and just contort you both so you can cuddle comfortably

•she probably prefers being little spoon, but she just likes being around you

•often, you’ll be seen in her lap with her arms around you as she yells in her headset, furiously spamming buttons

•adores holding your hand

•mushy and romantic

MEI

•YALL ARE LUCKY YOURE EVEN GETTING HER OKAY I STRONGLY DISLIKE THIS WOMAN-

•little spoon

•biggest little spoon ever

•she’s very nice to cuddle, often wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her face against your collar bone

•will lazily talk about her ideas and her day, words beginning to slur together after a while

•even though she’s literally satan she’s very comfortable, especially when she’s wearing her famous coat

•some days you’ll just sit on the couch with her, both numb with exhaustion and tiredly sip at hot cocoa, her head on your shoulder, your’s placed on her head.

•but your hands are intertwined, and she’s with you, and that’s enough.

MERCY

•she’s a busy woman

•it’s hard to get her to sit down and cuddle at times, as she’ll be at her desk working desperately to get things done

•you practically have to drag her to bed at times because uhhh wow please stop working,,,

•but when you do cuddle, she’s very gentle

•strokes the back of your head and whispers reassuring words to you, and if you’re about to sleep she’ll sing you soft Swedish lullabies

•she rubs reassuring circles into your back, asks you about your day, somehow still pampering you even if she’s exhausted

•she loves you a lot and she wants you to know it :)

MOIRA

•big spoon

•just like mercy do you rlly expect her to have time for cuddling

•she’ll come home after a long day and find you asleep, and slowly snuggle into the sheets and just bring you close, wrapping her arms around you and just sighing

•she’s more affectionate when you’re not around to tease her about it

•vry strong and accidentally crushes you when she holds you

•she honestly prefers you just coming to her and sitting on her lap, she’s able to hold you and still get her work done

•also because she thinks its cute but she’s always been more practical than emotional

PHARAH

•hi I love her

•big spoon probably idk

•she’a the type to get flustered when you hold her hand

•she’s not very suave and literally loses it when you hug her because how are you so adorable and sweet??

•you were talking to Ana once, raving about how you couldn’t wait to meet her and how amazing Fareeha is and she was just watching with the biggest puppy dog eyes ever and Mercy was losing it

•Kay that was off topic moving on

•she likes holding you, hoisting you up so you’re at least to her collar bone so she can rest her chin on the top of your head

SOMBRA

•like Moira, she prefers you on her lap so she can work properly

•she always teases you and pretends your crushing her and then she apologizes and says that you’re lighter than a feather

•”el amado, you’re mas ligera que una pluma.”

•then she playfully boops you on the nose and affirms the fact you can never hurt her I mean,,,have you seen the modifications made into her spine?? like idk but that must’ve hurt lol

•anyways when she’s not working, she enjoys just resting on your stomach

•play with her hair, please. thank you <3

•it makes her feel much safer and more reassured that you’re here for her stupid antics and you’re willing to stay.

SYMMETRA

•not that into cuddling

•there are other ways she can express her affections, so she’s not too adamant about holding you

•she enjoys being little spoon though! holding her tightly sends butterflies into her stomach

•she will wrap her arms around your neck, allowing you to pull her close

•but that’s on rare occasions, she honestly just prefers tangling legs or subtle hand holding over blown out cuddle sessions.

TRACER

•she can’t sit still for very long, so if anything she prefers holding you bridal style and running all over the town with you!

•but if she gets all tired after a long day of working, she loves to have you in her arms, nuzzling your cheek with her’s

•can talk to you on hours on end, as you just nod and smile, playing with the tuffs of her hair as it’s four and and you can’t wait for her to begin falling asleep

•rests your head on her shoulder, tangles her legs with your’s, holds your hand, idk she just loves being around you!! She just likes being with you!! She just likes having you around

•she loves you so much :))

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Falling For You But You Are Worlds Away: Chapter 2

A/N: So, I'm not Latino but I do come from an immigrant family so I may end up basing Simon's experience moving to a whole new country with my own experiences. I also consulted Hispanic friends on the language and culture I used here but forgive me if I get anything wrong. Please feel free to suggest or correct me on anything.

AO3

Simon had never been on a plane before. In fact, he had never traveled before.

It wasn’t like his family had copious amounts of money to spare for a fancy vacation. The most they probably did was spend a weekend in Stockholm, sightseeing and doing tourist-y stuff during one of his mother’s birthdays.

So, to say that he was overwhelmed by the process of traveling by plane, internationally, and as a minor, was an understatement. He was utterly terrified and anxious.

When his mother and Sara had dropped him off at the international airport in Stockholm (that place, alone, was overwhelming to see, even if he had looked at the pictures online beforehand), their hugs were long and teary. His mother barely let him go and Sara clung to his arm, crying silent tears into his jacket. They made sure he had enough snacks to fill him up on the 8-hour flight and his mother must have lectured the airport official tasked to escort him (because he was a minor) for so long that the woman had to gently tell her that Simon would miss his flight if they dallied any longer.

So, reluctantly, he said goodbye to his family.

Simon was given a badge to wear that indicated he was an unaccompanied minor and the stewardess seated him towards the front of the Economy class next to the window. She asked him if there was anything else he needed before leaving him to tend to other duties. No one was seated next to him yet so Simon took his time looking at all the knobs and buttons, familiarizing himself with them. He spotted magazines tucked into the little pocket in front of him so he took one out.

Just his luck, Wille’s face stared back at him. It was one of those tabloids and, fortunately, this one didn’t have Simon on it. The words on the cover spoke about the Royal Family’s Christmas celebrations.

Unable to help himself, Simon ran a gentle finger over the image of Wille. He missed him. He missed him so much. He missed his smiles. His hugs. The way he made noises when he was embarrassed. The way he tried to sing but was always off-key. Damnit, Simon really missed him.

When Wille first denied it was him in the video and Simon decided to break up with him, he was angry. So damn angry. Wille had promised him that they were in it together, that Simon wasn’t going to be alone. And he broke it.

But, now that he had time to think things through and see the situation from Wille’s position, he understood. Sort of. Maybe not completely. The Royal family’s need to stick to tradition and rules in a modern world that had no room for it would always baffle him. But, there wasn’t anything Wille could do. And coming out was such a personal and terrifying thing, Simon could speak from experience.

He wished he could tell Wille where he was going – he knew the prince would worry if he didn’t see Simon at Hillerska. But, Simon promised his mother to keep his whereabouts quiet from others aside from them, Ayub, and Rosh.

His best friends had been upset to find out that Simon was leaving the country. They had tried to appeal to his mother but when she made a decision, she was determined to see it through. Not even her soft spot and affection for Simon’s best friends could sway her.

Thus, here he was. On a plane. To New York.

Someone shuffled to the empty seat next to him, an older man who acknowledged him with a nod. Simon gave him a small, polite smile and tucked the magazine back into the pocket. Then, he took out his headphones and put them on as he waited for the plane to fill up and take off.

During the flight, Simon realized traveling by plane wasn’t too bad. It was probably one of the most luxurious things he had ever experienced. There were movies and snacks and interesting meals. He watched 3 movies, all in English, and snacked on the provided bags of pretzels and sodas. When he had finished those, he dug into his own backpack for the snacks his mother packed. He also napped for about an hour, leaning against the cold surface of the window. He took pictures of the clouds on his phone.

The stewardesses checked on him every once in a while. Then, when the plane was almost to New York, they were given little papers to fill in for immigration. The man next to him, clearly a veteran of flights and traveling, kindly helped clarify the places that confused him.

Then, when they landed at JFK Airport, while everyone else shuffled out of the plane, Simon had to wait for someone to get him. An airport official eventually arrived, a man who greeted Simon in Swedish and led him out of the plane. The official got him through immigration, Baggage Claim to collect his bags, and to the Arrivals area.

Simon scanned the crowd, looking for his aunt.

“Simon! Over here!”

A woman with dark curly hair, wearing a plain white shirt and jeans, waved at him, excitedly. His Tia Elena.

Feeling himself smile, Simon dragged his suitcases behind him as he hurried over to her. She fought through the crowd to get to him.

“Tia!” He was enveloped in her arms, immediately, the hug as tight and warm as his mother’s.

“Oh, look at you, mijo!” She pulled back to look up at him – he was at least an inch taller than her. “You’re so tall now! And so handsome! Look at those beautiful curls!”

Simon laughed. “Gracias, Tia. It’s good to see you, too. Thank you for having me.”

She placed a gentle hand on his cheek. “Of course. You’re family.”

She patted his cheek affectionately before turning to the airport official who had escorted Simon. After confirming who she was and her relation to Simon, they were finally allowed to leave the airport.

His aunt drove them in a red Toyota sedan, chattering and pointing out the window at buildings and signs, explaining what they were or where they led to. Simon nodded along, politely, watching New York pass him by. Being here, it finally sunk in – he was no longer home in Sweden. He was no longer going to see his mother, his sister, and his friends for a long while. He wasn’t going to see Wilhelm.

The longing made his heart grow heavy but he kept his face neutral, not wanting to worry his aunt.

At a red light, Tia Elena picked up her phone and unlocked it before handing it over to him.

“Why don’t you video call your mama?” she said. “Let her know you’ve arrived safely.”

Simon took the phone and scrolled through the contacts, looking for his mother’s name. It was probably late there now, as Sweden is 6 hours ahead of New York, but maybe they were still awake.

“Elena?” His mother picked up, immediately.

“Hi, mama. It’s me!”

“Mi amor!” She beamed. “I’m glad you got there safe! How was your flight?”

“Good! Mama, did you know they give you food on the plane? It was really good. Nothing like your cooking though.” Simon bit his lip. “I miss you and Sara, already.”

“We miss you, too, mi amor. Sara! Come here, it’s your brother! Where’s your Tia?”

Simon moved to show his aunt on camera.

His aunt waved at the phone. “Hi, Linda! Simon is here with all his limbs attached, don’t worry.”

Simon’s mother laughed. “I’m glad to hear that. How are you, Elena?”

His mother and aunt chatted for a bit, with Simon holding the phone. At some point, Sara showed up to say “hi” and announce the news that her grant from Hillerska had been approved. She was going to be a resident when the term started.

And, suffice to say, Simon was happy for his sister but was also a little bummed that he couldn’t be there for her. But, he also knew she was in safe hands with Felice and Madison.

“Who’s gonna feed my fish then? That was your job!”

“Mama will, duh!”

“I’ll take good care of them, Simon, don’t worry.”

Simon smiled. “Thanks, mama.” He bit his lip, feeling the longing stir in his chest again. “I… I miss you.”

His mother returned the smile, sadly. “We miss you, too, Simon. Take care, okay? I’ll call as often as I can.”

“Okay, mama.”

“Bye, Elena. Take care of Simon!”

“No need to tell me twice, Linda.”

Goodbyes took another minute or so and finally, Simon ended the video call. He could feel his right eye watering. He turned to look out the window again, not wanting his aunt to see. But, she must have those instincts all mothers had as he felt her pat his shoulder, gently.

The rest of the ride was mostly silent with only the radio and his aunt occasionally pointing out a store or a restaurant that she and his cousin, Ana, would frequent. He assumed he would be doing the same, at some point. But, right at that moment, he didn’t really care. He had only been in New York for an hour and he already wanted to go home.

They soon arrived at the home where his aunt lived with her only daughter. It was painted yellow, one story, and a few steps led up to the front door. A few potted plants and some large bushes decorated the lawn as well as patches of ice and snow.

As soon as Simon entered with his suitcases and backpack in tow, he was greeted by a shriek and arms wrapped around his neck.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here, Simon! Welcome to New York!”

The arms retreated and Simon looked down in surprise. His cousin, Ana, a year older than him and whom he remembered often led him around by holding his hand, was shorter than he was. She must have noticed it, too, as she scoffed.

“Ugh, why are you so tall now?!” she whined.

“Simon probably eats his vegetables and you don’t,” said his aunt, gently bumping her daughter in the head.

Simon laughed, shaking his head as he pulled his cousin back for another hug. He had forgotten how much he had missed her.

Ana, Sara, and he were thick as thieves and the best of friends when they were younger. They grew up together. That was, until Simon turned 11 and Ana and Sara, 12, that Tia Elena’s then-husband and Ana’s father, Ricardo, decided he wanted to try his luck in America and moved his entire family there. Two years later, he left them for another woman. But, that didn’t matter. He left his family but Tia Elena managed to keep the business that she worked hard to put up and grow.

“Take your cousin to his room and let him rest. I’ll start on dinner.”

Before Simon could protest, Ana grabbed his backpack and one of the suitcases before making her way through the house. Sheepishly, Simon followed behind her, eyes roaming around to take in the furniture and knick-knacks.

They walked through the living room with a sofa and armchair, T.V., and a collection of DVDs. A couple of photos on the walls of Ana and Tia Elena (none of Ricardo, of course). He surprisingly found one of his mom with him and Sara wearing their Hillerska uniforms. They had taken that on the first day of school back in September.

They passed by the dining room and he spotted the kitchen through a beaded curtain.

“That’s the bathroom.” Ana pointed to a small door at the end of the hallway. “Master’s bedroom is Mama’s room.” She pointed to a door on the opposite side. “She has her own bathroom so you and I will share. Mine is this one.” She pointed at the door they just passed that had a pink butterfly made from wire and what looked to be stockings stuck to its surface. “And you get this room.”

She opened the door and stepped aside to let him through first.

Pulling his suitcase behind him, Simon cautiously entered the room, still feeling like a stranger in what was supposed to be his home in the next couple of months. Or longer.

There was a bed, a little larger than his own at home, covered in green sheets and four pillows. A window with open blinds was above it (Simon itched to close it). There was a closet on the wall and next to it, a chest of drawers. There was also a desk with a wheeled chair and a lamp as well as an AC with another window with blinds above it.

“The AC is unplugged right now since it’s winter,” said Ana, entering after him and closing the door. She set his backpack on top of the chair and his second suitcase next to it. “There’s a heater but if you still get cold, let us know. We can get you an electric heater. I have one in my room, too.”

Simon sat on the bed. It felt nice. Soft. The sheets smell freshly washed.

“Thanks, Ana,” he said smiling up at her.

She returned the smile and sat next to him. For a moment, they were both quiet. Simon wasn’t quite sure what to say to her and clearly, neither did Ana. The excitement of seeing each other had worn off and the years of their separation finally settled. He wondered what she was like now. It wasn’t like they didn’t talk – they kept in touch through social media. But, it wasn’t the same as before.

“How are you, Simon?” Ana suddenly asked, sounding hesitant. “We heard about… you know… that.”

Heat filled his face and he immediately dropped his head into his hands. “Ana… please don’t tell me you watched it.”

She snorted. “Of course not! I wouldn’t do that to you! Plus, it’s weird! You’re my cousin!” She nudged him. “But… was it really the prince?”

He groaned.

“I mean… you don’t have to tell me or anything. But, I just want you to know that… whoever did that to you, guys, is really shitty. And, I hope they step on a pile of legos.”

The unexpected joke coaxed a giggle out of Simon. Ana was funny. He wondered when she developed this weird sense of humor, but he kind of liked it.

He raised his head to look at her. “Thanks, prima.”

“Anytime, primo.” She nudged him again. “You know that I’m always on your side. I even joined my school’s GSA Club in solidarity! And lemme tell you, we have lots of cute guys for you to meet!”

Simon groaned again. “Ana, I’m not really looking to… date.”

Or be with anyone ever again. Wilhelm had ruined him for anyone else.

“You don’t have to date them. Just meet them. Make new friends. Learn things about yourself.” She nudged his foot with her own. “I mean, I learned a lot about myself there.”

Simon turned to look at her, confused. “Like what?”

Ana couldn’t look him in the eye but she took a giant deep breath. “GSA doesn’t just have cute guys, you know. There’s also… cute girls.”

Oh… OH.

Simon wrapped an arm around her back, squeezing her to his side, like he often did with Sara.

“Does Tia know?” he asked softly.

Ana bit her lip and shook her head.

“Why not? You know she’ll be supportive. She supported me when I came out.”

“That’s different. You know it’s always different when it’s other people’s kids but when it comes to your own kids…” She scoffed. “I love her and I know that she loves me. But, I just don’t know how she’ll take it if I tell her that I don’t just like guys… I like girls, too. I mean, how can you not? They’re so pretty!”

He shot her a look.

“Right, you can’t relate.” She chuckled and then sighed. “It’s just… different. I don’t know how you did that. But, I wish I could, too.”

Simon understood. It was scary when he decided to come out to his mom and Sara when he was 13. He thought they would stop loving him. He thought things would be different after he did. But, nothing much changed, really. His mother and sister simply told him that they still loved him. Now, instead of teasing him about girls, they teased him about boys. He had never been so grateful to have had such a loving and accepting family.

He knew Ana was scared right now. So, if he could be a friend and comfort, he would. They were family, after all.

“You’re on my side so I’m on yours, okay?” he said, smiling, kindly.

She laid her head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Simon. And, I'm not even exaggerating. I’m really excited to have you here.” She patted his knee and stood up. “So… I’ll let you rest now. Mama probably needs help with dinner. It will take a while so you can nap or something. We’ll catch up more later?”

“Yeah, thanks, Ana. And I’m really happy to see you, too.”

She grinned at him before opening the door and closing it behind her.

The sound echoed in the room.

Simon looked around the room – his room – that was full of so many things for him yet felt so empty.

There was no fish tank for him to spend mindless minutes talking to his fish. No second-hand desktop with his Xbox connected to play games with Ayub and Rosh. He did bring his laptop and his game systems but he could no longer make their Friday game nights.

Not for the first time since he boarded the plane to New York, Simon felt all alone.

After taking off his jacket and shoes, he curled up on top of the covers and closed his eyes. Within minutes, he was asleep.

He dreamt of Sweden and all he left behind.

.............

The sky outside was gray. Winter was cold and cruel and it seemed like even the sun refused to come out and grace them with its warmth. Wilhelm thought it matched his mood, perfectly

“Your Royal Highness… Prince Wilhelm…”

Wilhelm tore his gaze away from the window and stared up at the face of his concerned-looking Math teacher. Mr. Englund raised an eyebrow at him.

“Your answer?”

Wilhelm looked at the board. There was an equation on it that he didn’t bother to try and answer.

He shrugged. “I don’t know, sir.”

Mr. Englund sighed at him. “See me after class, please.” He moved on. “Frederika, what is your answer?”

Wilhelm tuned out his classmate’s response, choosing to look back out the window again. He had no energy for school anymore.

After class, Wilhelm stayed behind. He stood in front of Mr. Englund’s desk and waited as his classmates filed out. When the last of them was gone, Mr. Englund finally turned to him.

“You’ve been distracted, lately, your Royal Highness. Is everything alright?”

Wilhelm shrugged again.

Mr. Englund cleared his throat. “If you need extra tutoring-.”

Wilhelm’s eyes flashed and his hands shook as he finally spoke, “I don’t need to bribe you to get a good grade in this class, sir.”

Clearly caught off-guard by this, Mr. Englund’s mouth opened and closed and opened again.

“That’s not what I-.”

“It’s illegal, you know,” Wilhelm continued. “To give special treatment to those who can pay when you should be treating all your students, equally. Not everyone has the means to bribe their way to the top.”

Wilhelm was running his mouth, he knew. He wasn’t exactly sure if it was illegal (he should probably look it up) but he knew it was wrong. He knew what the need to get a passing grade in this class did to Simon. He would be damned to let it slide.

He was the Crown Prince, damnit, so he might as well own it in some way.

“I won’t speak of this to the headmistress,” he continued as Mr. Englund continued to stare at him, mouth agape like a fish. “Though I suspect that she’s already aware of your little side business. But, I won’t be a part of it. Good afternoon, sir.”

With his head held high, Wilhelm walked out of the room.

As soon as he was far enough away, he stopped and leaned against the wall. His heart was pounding so fast, he wondered if he was getting a heart attack at the young age of 16.

“Your Royal Highness?”

He looked up to a concerned Malin hovering over him.

He managed a reassuring smile at her. “I’m fine. Sorry. Just… I need a minute.”

She nodded and stepped back.

He knew he was already late for his next class but, nonetheless, Wilhelm dug through his pocket and took out his phone. He dialed the already familiar number, not willing to forget this one thing, just in case. And, just like any other time, the call went straight to voicemail.

“Yo, this is Simon. I’m not available right now. Leave a message and I’ll try to call you back. Bye.”

“Simon,” Wilhelm said in a low voice. “Hey. Um… It’s me. Uh… I did something today. I think you’d be proud. I think. I hope.” He took a shaky breath. “Please call me back. I need to talk to you. Please. I…”

He meant to say, “I still love you. I never stopped. I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone else the way I love you.”

Instead, he said, “I miss you.”

Wilhelm hung up and thumped his head against the wall. It hurt a bit but not as much as his heart right now.

[whereflowersbloom]

Nursery

The evening light looks orange enough to catch fire through the window. Its such a nice day to start working on the most important room of their home. It’s more than just a room actually, the nursery.  It’s a precious and tangible promise. A promise of a life that would be full of everything a child should have.  A promise of a childhood free of pain or worry or neglect, one that would know unconditional love and attention in abundance. There was a large ivory rug that covered half of the gray hardwood floors, to the white furniture, which consisted of the changing table and dresser. They already had the antique birch and oak crib that belonged to the Wayne family. Pennyworth insisted they kept it.

Inside these mint green walls, no joy would ever be denied to him. Damian would make certain of that. Everything his son desired, every need satisfied, every wish made true. His child would be cared for, tenderly nurtured and assuredly protected. By all means. He would make sure to set consistent rules and limits, keep in mind that conflicts are one way that children first learn about self-control, compromise and cooperation that’s what he had read. They had been expecting Malik for six months and twelve days now. Yes, he was definitely keeping track of the days. He prepared a pregnancy calendar board marked with the ultrasound appointments, prenatal classes, and other details in case of emergency. Reminders. Raven had commented several times he tried too hard, but Damian had this compulsive need to be in control of everything. They were creating their own family together, As a future father Damian wanted everything down to the littlest detail to be perfect.

Was his first son’s arrival anticipated with so much enthusiasm from both Kent and Wayne family, his heart swelled with a familiar warmth. Malik would be loved and probably spoiled by his siblings. Jason was already saying he would teach him shoot accurately without missing a single target, as soon he was able to hold a toy blaster, Dick kept mentioning Mar’i needed a playmate preferably Tamaranean-proof, Tim as usual didn’t show much excitement but the last time there had been a spark of interest in his dark blue eyes when they showed his family the 4K ultrasound video from the last obstetrician’s appointment. Stephanie hoped he liked waffles. Malik would have a very different life. Father...Bruce was still digesting the news of becoming a grandfather. Damian could swear for a second caught the glimpse of an emotional Alfred tearing up tears of joy, the British man promised to be around to help in any way the young couple requested. A new Wayne heir.

He can’t help wondering at times, even under different circumstances. Did someone personally build him a nursery? He knew the obvious answer no. Did his mother think to baby-proof the whole League of Assassins compound? He highly doubted it.

Perhaps this was what fatherhood was about: Staying up at night, thinking incessantly about his son’s life and future, worrying about which school he would attend, if he would practice a sport, maybe basketball like Dick, or take after him, take interest in martial arts and swordsmanship. There was no need to get worked up over numbers for a college fund. Eventually he would be in charge of Wayne Enterprises, thankfully Drake sticked around to manage the overall operations, assist the board meetings, whenever Damian was away from Gotham due to Titans or Batman’s business. Drake indeed proved to be quite clever and capable. His mind went back to his son. Will Malik feel loved? Have absolutely no doubts he was wanted. Damian would be by his side ensuring he did. Silently vowing.

Now if only he could finish assembling the convertible crib. He hasn't tried to throw any items of furniture yet, but he's fraying dangerously close to actually doing it. This fucking manual was useless. Damian was currently siting on the hardwood floor, eyes carefully scanning the sheet of instructions again for the fifth time.

“Don’t tell me you’re still in here.” Raven asked her husband with hands on hips as she entered the room. Her long hair in a loose braid, wearing an oversized shirt and comfortable shorts. His green eyes focused on her round belly. She looked so beautiful with a life growing inside her. Her beauty stabbed at his heart like a great knife The miracle of procreation. A new life. Damian had spend the last two hours in the baby’s nursery, claiming he didn’t need help doing a simple task as building a crib. Not Grayson or Jon. Specifically not Conner Kent.

“I’m not leaving this room until this damn crib is properly assembled!” Damian replied obviously annoyed and frustrated. She could perceive his increasing frustration miles away. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. Dealing with pregnancy hormones and an annoyed husband wasn’t easy.

“We could always ask Clark or Jon for help...” Raven suggested vaguely, violet eyes flickering around the room. It was unlikely that Batman had any experience when it comes to baby furniture. On second thought having two Kryptonians with superhuman strength, surrounded by fragile baby furniture...Idea dismissed.

“Over my dead body.” Damian muttered stubbornly, jaw set like the idea of asking for help is a personal insult.

Raven just shook her head and headed over the dresser and looked at several of the outfits that they already had for little Malik, who recently started kicking her with more force, at first it was just a tiny quiver, Raven admitted it was tremendously exciting when she felt it, like a flutter. Damian was there right next to her, wearing an amazed expression on his face, but then Malik began kicking more in the evening, recurrently, she noticed. He was also an early riser just like his father. She observed that some of the onesies were from some members of the Justice League. There’s was a Aquaman one, Flash, Superman, recalling it was a present from Clark and Jon. She smiled softly as she pulled out a black one with the Batman symbol on it with the words saying 'Future Batman' on it. She took it, turning around to show it to Damian with a raised eyebrow. “Whose ideas was this?”

“Don’t look at me. Grayson thought it would be an appropriate gift.” Damian muttered sulkily as he continued reading the manual of instructions for the crib he insisted assembling himself, studying it with knitted eyebrows. Was the manual in Swedish? What there anything this man couldn’t do? Except perhaps build this Swedish convertible crib which was clearly giving him a headache.

“Why am I not surprised?” She rolled her eyes as she caressed her swollen belly affectionately. She did it often, out of instinct. It felt so natural...yet strange. In less than three months she would become a mother.

Mother. She was about to be someone's mother. She had only ever pictured the idea in an abstract sort of way, never really picturing it clearly until Damian brought it up about four months after their engagement. Even after a Damian came into her life, she never imagined he would want to have a child with her, if she were being honest. She was not human. This child was not completely human and yet she was certain of risking her own life protecting from any harm. It’s the type of love that leaves you speechless at the end of the day. It’s a love so pure you almost think it can’t be real. Lois told her once all the forces on this planet will never beat that of a mother. Those words were probably a universal truth.

I am writing this oneshot but I’m not sure I can finish it. But here’s a fragment. I apologise if it isn’t that good but it’s 3am and I’m exhausted 😅😅😅

Malik belongs to @deep-in-mind67 💚💚💚💚

[reapers-carino]

You’re back! Can I request Sigma and fem S/O relaxing in each other’s arms either after a mission or after he gets out of talon. maybe a little angst and maybe a lot of fluff

Siebren had been stolen from you.

You both were astrophysicists that worked as co-researchers at The Hague, the classic story of colleagues turning into close companions and then clumsily and casually falling into love. Your relationship wasn’t like the vids, however. No, it was...comfortable. Eccentric. Full of excited hypotheses or bickering on theories, debating on what experiments you should run next, late nights at the lab together morphing into slow dancing and takeout while systems tested and calculated. You gently prodded the man to sleep at your apartment and not the in his office on a cot, coyly explaining at the time a well rested scientist ran much better work…and you had a California king. He relinquished soon enough. It had taken a while for your fellow researchers and lab assistants to find out; you nor Siebren flashy or loud about relationships, preferring a brief kiss on the cheek and hand holding to speak as loud as an official declaration. Once the news had swept through the lab, several of your colleagues joked that you had pulled the older man into your orbit, Siebren always answering back affectionately that it may be true because ‘you shined as bright as Sirius’. It still made a hot blush burn up your face and down your chest when you thought about it; the way he unabashedly showered you in love and affection constantly renewing the butterflies you had felt when you first fell into love with the man.

The day Siebren had made his breakthrough, the two of you had been cuddling in bed, the near seven foot tall man completely wrapped around you, you both enjoying the feel of each others skin after a shared post-coital shower. Quiet classical music played from the speakers as you had cuddled further back into the man, the hum of his voice like a purr against your back as his hands idly did mental calculations on your thigh, skin tingling at his gentle touching. You felt him pause, head tilting up to ask him if he was stuck and needed to talk it out but the man had gone stock still before briskly sitting up and speedily going through the solution to successfully subvert the universe’s pull on gravity so that it could be harnessed. Your brow had furrowed as you went over what he had said, calculations flying through your own mind before your eyes had widened and you threw yourself at the man. You kissed him and called him brilliant and then demanded he immediately write all of that down. From there it was a whirlwind of gaining government grants to approvals for him to study at the International Space Station until the day it came for him to say goodbye. He had pressed kisses against the top of your head, your temples, your cheeks and chin and nose before ever getting to your lips, promising to video call you as soon as he had made it and every night after that.

 And he had been a man of his word. The two of you would talk every night for at least an hour although often more, recording the calls so you both could go over notes or suggestions or calculations the other gave or just to hear one anothers’ voices when the distance became too much. The night of the final test, Siebren had set up his camera as he always had, excitedly notating out loud every step he was going through so that the moment could both be recorded and all steps captured could be formally notated. You giddily watched on the holo-screen at home, dressed in one of his sleeping shirts and holding a data-pad to make any notes that weren’t directly stated. You remembered how your heart had swelled with pride and excitement, knowing he would soon be back on Earth and in your arms and celebrated for the greatest breakthrough in astrophysics since the discovery of Proxima b.

 Both of your eyes grew with wonder as the field he had perfected began to form a black hole, tears welling up in your eyes as the ball of pure black pulsated calmly. Siebren’s eyes briefly lifted to yours before dropping back down, a slow smile of amazement growing on his face as his fingers undulated, the black hole responding in turn. Tears burned in your eyes as he began to laugh, describing out loud the pressure he could feel pressing back but with a turn of the hand the field was able to contain it and pull it back. Minutes felt like eons as you watched Siebren manipulate the black hole, twisting and turning and growing and shrinking the orb until his brow furrowed hard. Electric began to crackle near the base of the containment field before Siebren began to yell worriedly.

 ‘Density! Mass! Momentum! It is too much to hold onto!’

 ‘This is wrong! The field is failing!’

 You screamed for him as you watched the orb pulsate then split, panic settling in as objects around the room began to lift and fall around Siebren, the man’s voice rapidly switching between yelling and babbling in Dutch and English and Swedish and German. Devices that weighed several tonnes began to float in the air as if they were as light as feathers, listing left and right behind the man as his scream got louder and softer. Hands shaking you watched helplessly as whatever the camera was attached to became undone and started to float, Siebren going still before his eyes lifted to the screen and locked with your eyes.

 ‘Mijn universum’

 Sound cut from Siebren’s side, the camera still recording as objects kept rising and falling, only stopping when it appeared security ran in and grabbed the man. All you saw before the connection was cut was Siebren’s lab bathed in emergency lights, everything that had once been floating falling unceremoniously to the ground with something crushing the camera. With your heart slamming in your chest you called the emergency line given to families, explaining to them what you had seen, even sending them the recording that you had of that night. They placated you with saying the man was undergoing treatment for injuries sustained during the experiment, refusing to show him to you or give you any detail of what actually was wrong before pronouncing he had succumbed to his wounds. You refused to believe it, remembering how the man had looked when you had last seen him; uninjured but confused, rambling but still physically sound. You tried showing the video to anyone who would watch, refusing to believe the official reports of his death but you were ignored, mocked. You were a respected member of your field but how could you know the affects of a black hole on the human body? What reason would the government have to lie about this? It was sad you had lost someone dear to you but ‘you had to use your brain’.

 You were eventually driven out of your field, mocked and pitied for being overcome with grief and ‘losing all grasp on logic’ due to your loss of Siebren. Despite all this, you never gave up hope, clinging desperately to the idea that the man was still alive, the ridiculous unscientific notion of ‘the heart knows’ spurring you along. For years you came up empty handed, the near decade of searching weighing heavily on your shoulder before the universe finally gave you a bone. A former university colleague extended a hand, Moira O’Deorain, saying that she believed your plight and that she would love to help you…as long as you could help her in return. You had accepted immediately, asking no questions of the who or what, utterly relieved that someone finally believed you and that the burden wouldn’t be one you had to bare all on your own. Even when you found out the organization was Talon, you didn’t back down, jaded by the fact that so much of the world had turned their back on you when Siebren had needed them. If they could help you find him or find some semblance of closure, anything they asked of you would be more than worth it.

 You had been tasked with designing a battle suit per their specifications; one capable of withstanding a constant flux in gravity, something that could convert kinetic energy into a body shield, and one that could stand an immense amount of pressure, possibly greater than that found at the depths of the ocean. You worked diligently, the suit familiar to the one you had been tasked to create years prior with Siebren in preparation for his own experimentation in space, your heart aching as you put in fail-safes that could have possibly protected or saved him from harm. You kept your head down, never really introduced to any other personnel in Talon other than the science department and only catching glimpses of the more infamous faces of the organization. Genuinely you didn’t care to make friends, you wanted to fulfill your end of the bargain so that they could fulfill their own. It took several months with the technology they had available, but you had finished the preliminary design of the suit, telling Moira you simply needed to tailor the suit to wearer and it would be completed.

 She had responded with a cryptic, ‘He will be liberated soon enough.’

 You had thought nothing of it, expecting another jailbreak similar to that of Akande Ogundimu, working quietly in your lab to tweak and update the suit so whomever wore it could make no complaints. They didn’t waste good technology on non-intellectuals so at the bare minimum it had to pass your stringent standards. Your back had been turned when they had brought him in, classical music floating through your lab softly, helping you focus on tweaking the pin on one of the minicontrollers minutely to correctly an insulation and cooling issue. The rasping voice of the ‘Reaper’ began to chip at your concentration, your hands stilling briefly as he snapped orders to bring him inside. You had let out a long suffering sigh, placing your instruments down and began to pull off the magnifying headband to face whoever was entering your lab before freezing at the sound of one voice.

 “Th-that melody…where am I?”

 You remembered it felt like you had been punched in the chest, every ounce of air stolen from you as you ripped the head lamp off and stared at the door with wild, tear-filled eyes. Just pass the doorway, flanked by three of Talon foot soldiers behind and the Reaper in front was Siebren. Somehow he had stayed the same and yet had changed so much. The man was dressed in what looked like an orange jumpsuit, several emblems denoting him as ‘SUBJECT Σ’, wrists and ankles adorned with chainless shackles. Augmentations had been carved into his face; his cheekbones and forehead and temples now adorned with metal that made your heart ache, wondering how much pain he was in when they were inserted. His face was still his but…his cheeks had become somewhat sunken and swollen bags resting beneath his dull, spiritless blue eyes. But what had shocked you the most is how the man was floating at least a meter off of the ground, all surrounding him seemingly unconcerned by his ability to completely subvert Newton’s law of gravitation. Stumbling forward, you remembered when Siebren eyes fell to yours, the man’s eyes going round as he spoke your name barely above a whisper. He dropped to the ground and when you surged forward, he took you into his arms and you held onto each other as if either let go the other would float away.

 And this is how you both found yourself working for Talon. They had tethered you both to the organization by using the other as collateral. Siebren, or Sigma as they preferred to call him, would never leave if he could not leave with you and you were a grounding source for Siebren and would never leave his side after your time apart. Neither one of you were fighters or soldiers, you were scientists, but something had changed in Siebren after years of isolated experimentation and repeated exposure to his new found abilities. Battle was an experiment and while not always preferred, he would do what he must to keep testing the new hypotheses that both he and you came up with.

 Today, at least, the fighting was over.

 You stood on the flight deck, watching as the hovercraft began to touch the ground, pushing off of the stair railing that you had been leaning on. The team had recently moved to another base in Australia, the Outback providing swaths of land that was ignored by the country’s government, Talon quickly creating a state of the art facility within a year. Plumes of reddish brown dust expanded outwards as the ship doors opened, the half dozen or so foot soldiers walking out soon followed by the ‘A-team’. You gave a respectful ‘good evening’ or ‘hello’ to those that passed, warmly squeezing Moira’s shoulder before walking past them and towards the straggler.

 “Welcome home”, you said warmly, a genuine grin creasing your face as you looked up into Sigma’s eyes. The small frown that had become his neutral expression melted away as his eyes met yours, the tension in the man’s body seemingly melted away. Slowly he went from floating a meter off the ground to hovering a few centimeters off of the ground. Taking one of his gloved hands in yours you let him lead the way. “The mission was a success?”

 “Mmm I believe so”, he stated, humming low in his throat as he briefly recalled. His hand gently squeezed yours as the two of you walked through the bay doors. “It appears that I may be able to increase the range of Gravitic Flux but it seems to require further experimentation.”

 You bobbed your head in agreement, mentally notating that for training later. But for now, you wanted to make sure he could unwind after being away for the last few days. Lacing your hands with his you began to take charge as Sigma’s feet finally touched the ground, turning and smiling mischievously at him as you tugged him through the halls.

 “Woah”, he huffed out, a quiet chuckle following his words as you tugged him along. “What’s the rush…and we’ve walked pass the lab.”

 “I know my love”, you hummed back as you kept marching forward, turning towards the personnel quarters and your shared room. “I have a surprise for you.”

 “Oh then please lead on”, he answered, a quiet lilt in his voice as he began to float once more, stumbling as the load of him got even lighter.

 Turning you shot him a playful glare as you practically skipped down the hall, turning until you got to the ‘A-teams’ quarters, the master’s sized bedrooms a treat for the eccentric members of the battle team. For a terrorist organization constantly on the run, it was odd how their pockets seemingly never ran dry and how they never had to ‘rough’ it in anything less than a four star hotel. Still, you didn’t peek too far behind the curtain, happy to fulfill the role of nothing more than a personal scientist and to reap the benefits that came with being the ‘Sigma’s girl’.

 You hummed quietly as you pressed your hand to the biometric scanner, twisting on your heel and pulling Siebren by both hands down grinning wide as you stared up at him. The light had returned to his cerulean eyes, his cheeks no longer sallow or sunken but filled by months of meals you personally requested of the kitchen staff and your own clumsily made stroopwafels. He seemed….happy again. You didn’t know what the government had done to him while he had been locked away but the hacker woman, Sombra was her name, had given you some details and it seemed he had been isolated away from others for most of his time. Once he was brought on to the base and allowed to interact with others, to talk and move freely and actually be human, the man you fell in love with came back to you piece by piece.

 Siebren floated lower, pulling your hands back so they could carefully wrap around his body and gently grabbing you by the waist to float you the rest of the way to the room.

 “So what do you have planned this time mijn schatje”, he inquired, one of his bushy brows lifting inquisitively. You giggled quietly as you lifted on shoulder in playful innocence.

 “You’ll have to open the door and see”, you answered lackadaisically, knowing the ever curious man wouldn’t hesitate to find the answers that he wanted the answers to.

 He pressed you closer to him, his arm locking around your waist so he could use his free hand to press to the biometric scanner on the door, the man pausing for a moment as the scent of food escaped.

 “Is that…”

 “Mhmm”, you answered, leaning up to place a gentle kiss on the underside of his chin as he looked in the room in astonishment before looking down at you with pure adoration. “I know it’s summer here but I wanted to give you a touch of winter from home. I don’t know how but the omnic chef, I think her name is Tulip, was able to get her hand on actual rookworst. So I asked her to make some boerenkoolstamppot and oliebol when I heard you two were on your way back.”

 You and Tulip had made sure to put the meals under one of those special serving platters that suspended the meal with hardlight; the meal still piping hot and the dessert protected from condensation. A grin grew on your face as you soaked in the look on his face, the man slowly pulling his eyes from the food an down to you.

 “Mijn universum”, he breathed softly, slowly lowering to the ground with you, his hands resting lightly on either side of your torso. His thumbs rubbed slow circles against your side, the pads of his gloves pressing into you slightly. “Thank you…”

 “You are more than welcome my love”, you hummed softly before taking a small half step back from him and grabbing one of his hands with both of yours. Your thumbs gently ran over the textured pads, glossing over the oppositional gravitational channeler, fingertips dancing up to gently pull it off. “Here let’s get you out of your uniform and enjoy a good winter meal. Oh, and I’ll turn on our melody.”

 “Yes that does sound lovely.”

 Siebren smiled as you hummed the chords to the song that had been stuck in his head for years, the melody that had played in the lab when the singularity had happened that had given him a glance into the future. It had played on loop, obsessively taunting him with a beautiful, comforting tune, so familiar and yet so far away, comfort teasing him in it’s harmony but never quite settling. This had been the first song he heard when walking into your lab, the first song he had when he had been liberated, the first song when his universe began to come back together. The AI of the room took over, it soft, feminine voice ringing out.

 “Now playing, ‘My Universe’.”

[historical-babes]

Princess Louise of Prussia (1838-1923).

Grand Duchess of Baden.

.

She was the second child and only daughter of German Emperor Wilhelm I and Augusta of Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach. She was the younger sister of Frederick III of Germany ("Fritz") and aunt of Wilhelm II of Germany.

.

While Wilhelm showed some outward affection to his only son, he lavished attention on Louise, and often his unexpected visits to her schoolroom resulted in them playing together on the floor. Mother and daughter however were not close.

.

Louise was betrothed to Frederick, Prince Regent of Baden in 1854, and they married in 1856 at Neues Palais in Potsdam. Frederick had been regent because of his brother Louis's insanity, and was proclaimed Grand Duke of Baden when doctors declared that there was no chance of recovery.

.

Within a few weeks of their marriage, the new grand duchess was already pregnant with their first child, Hereditary Grand Duke Frederick. They later had two other children. She was a happy wife and mother. Louise and Frederick disliked the stiffness of the Karlsruhe court, and gladly escaped to their castle on the island of Mainau. They were popular in Baden, and everyone spoke with affectionate pride of their grand duke and duchess.

.

The Austro-Prussian War caused a degree of friction between Baden and Prussia, as the former, despite their close familial connections to Berlin, chose to support the Austrians. Her father's strongly anti-Catholic chancellor Otto von Bismarck disliked Baden however, as it was one of Germany's most important Catholic states. Suspicious of the grand duchess' influence on her father, he did his best to block her request for clemency on behalf of Alsace Catholics to the emperor.

.

Because of her status as Grand Duchess, Louise was very involved in her duchy's charitable organizations, particularly issues concerning women.

.

Louise, now Dowager Grand Duchess of Baden, lived to see her duchy become absorbed into the new state of Germany under the Revolution of 1918-19 that took place at the end of World War I. By permission of the new government, she and her family were allowed to stay at the Langenstein Palace, which belonged to a Swedish count, Douglas. During these events, Louise was said to have kept her calm and never uttered a word of complaint. The new republican government gave her permission to live out the rest of her life in retirement at Baden-Baden, where she died in 1923.

[Submission]

[the-writing-mobster]

What If: Frisk and Sans chilling out on beds and couches at a furniture store.

Ah this one was so cute! And so fun to write! 

What If Frisk and Sans went to Ikea? Suggestive flirting????  

"We've been in here for hours—"

"—THIS ROOM IS BEAUTIFUL!" Sans sighed and watched as Frisk took a picture of the minimalist "city-living" kitchen display. They had really only been there for an hour and a half, but they had come to get a bed…  not to take pictures of the display rooms. However, he had to admit; seeing Frisk, a woman who took herself very seriously, act like a child at a toy store was quite endearing.

"Could you see us in an apartment like this?" She breathed as she stepped inside the display to look at all the pretty decorations. Sans chuckled quietly and crossed his arms.

"I could see myself uh… eating those swedish meatballs," he grunted. She shot him a look and he snickered boyishly.

“Oh tais-toi, connard,” she teased with a playful snicker. Sans chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. Frisk laughed as he nibbled on her neck.

“I’m hungry, and you’re over here showing me display kitchens. Not helping, sweetheart,” he murmured into her ear. That familiar tingle ran down her spine and she smirked.

“Be good. We’re in public,” she whispered coyly as she shrugged him off and continued down the yellow marked path. He watched her with a growing grin and shoved his hands in his pockets with a smug air about him. He glanced over to see an older couple shooting them dirty looks, which he returned with a nonchalant wink. The old woman’s jaw gaped and Sans quickly turned away and chased after his fiancé.

“I’m surprised Papyrus isn’t here, what did you say he was holed up doing again?” Asked Frisk as she ran her hand along a dark wooden armoire. Sans shrugged absentmindedly and glanced down her body as she walked in front of him. Sometimes he was taken aback by how surreal it was to be with a woman like her.

“He had to go to the bank to deal with…uh… a fraud charge on his card. It got locked cause he tried to buy a some candles from Bath and Body Works. Apparently Bath and Body Works is a—tch—a hotspot, and he’s such a fuckin impulse buyer. The moment he discovered online shopping, I swear to God.” His words dissolved into a fit of boyish chuckles at the memory. Frisk joined in his infectious laughter.

“Oh my God. Oh my God! I remember!” She had been shopping with Alice, Bonnie and Charlotte when Papyrus had called her in a fit of rage about never shopping at “that deplorable perfumery” ever again. They both giggled together as they walked the endless maze of home decor.

Finally, they arrived in the bed and bedroom section of the gigantic furniture store and Sans sighed with relief.

“Think I can actually sit down for a change?” He teased. Frisk rolled her eyes and scanned the room. They needed a king. As... nice... as it was being pressed together in a full, she knew having space would be better, especially since they both took up a lot of space, Sans from sheer size and Frisk by spreading her limbs to each corner of the mattress. She knew the longer they lived together, the more being tangled in each other’s arms would get claustrophobic. Claustrophobia would cause tension, and tension would cause fights…and Frisk never wanted that to happen. Not after everything they’d been through together. No, a couple needed their moments of space. A bed was the perfect place to have it.

Frisk glanced over her shoulder when she felt Sans’s eyes on her and she pursed her lips to hide a smile. Besides, with the way their sex life was going… there would be plenty of time to be entangled together. Her soul flickered at the notion and she let out a heavy breath. A bigger bed has so many more possibilities…

“Oh, look at this one,” she hummed as she gestured to a bed with a solid, black headboard. Sans glanced down and read the name. KVALFJORD. He grumbled to himself something along the lines of crazy-Swedish-bullshit before shrugging and pushing his hand into the mattress.

“It’s nice, that’s for sure,” he murmured thoughtfully. Frisk grinned and checked the price. She grimaced at the four hundred dollar price tag but Sans shrugged it off. Four hundred dollars was nothing to him or his brother. She was still surprised at how well they had transitioned into the American workforce after years of being military operatives for Asgore. Granted it wasn’t standard work. Frisk had never been an ambassador before in her life, but the position was proving rather rewarding, and Sans worked alongside her as her own personal bodyguard. She smiled softly and spared him a small glance.

“Hey… I love you,” she hummed, toying with the hem of his sleeve. Sans glanced back at her and his grin widened. He quirked a brow teasingly and ruffled her hair.

“I love you too, babe,” he said. Frisk smiled as he rolled himself onto the bed and rested his hands behind his neck in thoughtful surrender. It held his weight pretty well, considering the sheer size difference between humans and monsters.

“Is it good?” She asked. He hummed contentedly. Granted, with how easily Sans could become comfortable, she was sure anything would work for him and he would have little to no complaints. She gasped as he pulled her onto the bed and she giggled. The two laid side by side and Frisk splayed her arms out. Sans grunted as her hand slapped his face and they snickered.

“It’s a king for a reason, kid,” he joked and she chuckled and turned over onto her stomach. Sans watched as she propped her head up on her hands and they smiled affectionately at each other.

“I love Ikea way too much.” Sans burst out laughing at her words and she grinned. He sighed lazily and pulled himself up to sit against the headboard.

“Is this the one?” She asked. He glanced around the large industrial cavern at all the other options. None of them really fit his taste. This one was more modern, and -he shuffled his weight- not squeaky, unlike his old bed.

“What do you think?” He asked as he got up to lift the mattress and check out the support beams. Frisk slid off and came to stand by his side.

“Think it could handle us?” She whispered with a suggestive twinkle in her eye. Sans smirked and glanced down at her.

“Well there’s only one way to try that out and… as much as that idea entices me, I don’t think that would be very appropriate. I mean you’re the one who brought up the fact we’re in public,” he murmured back. She leaned against the bed and gave it a hard shake. Sans laughed at the move. It held firm and she shrugged and looked back up at him.

“I think it works. As long as we build it correctly.” Sans groaned at the reminder that yes, they would have to build it themselves. 

“Oh fuck me,” he groaned. Frisk stifled a smirk and gave him an innocent smile.

“I will once we build it,” she purred. He shook his head in amusement and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“What’s gotten into you? Actin all… frisky,” he uttered as he kissed her forehead. She giggled and ran her hand down his chest. He sucked in at the move, pulling her closer to him.

“It’s your fault,” she hummed with mock disapproval. He scoffed with baffled amusement and grabbed her hand when she reached his pelvis. His entire body was burning with her touch.  

“If you keep this up, I don’t think I’ll be able to wait until after the damn thing gets built,” he growled. She bit her lip and pulled away from him. Sans watched her walk around the bed and ran his tongue along the edges of his fangs. She always knew how to get to him.

“So do you like this one?” She asked, pretending that nothing had happened. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at her.

“I do.” She smiled and took a picture of the tag for when they would need it in the warehouse.

“Perfect. I do too. Now! Let’s look at the mattresses,” she chirped as she skipped down the aisle. Sans growled with a titillating lust and followed after her. This woman.

When he came to her side, she reached for his hand, which he readily surrendered and she smiled with contentment. Her hand was so small compared to his, but in it, she felt safe. No one could touch her as long as he was by her side. That knowledge was enough to put her ever alert mind at ease and make her soul hum.

They spent another hour or so trying to find the right mattress, sparing each other flirtatious looks along the way. Every so often Frisk or Sans would notice other people staring at them out of morbid curiosity. After all, Sans was a reaper who stood at six feet and six inches tall, and she was just five foot six. However, she was happy to find no one being blatantly rude to them. Most of the employees were helpful, even if they did tremble a bit at the sight of Sans. She had to remind herself how she felt the first time they had met. That was of course, under very different circumstances.

When they finally made it past the furniture department, and into the home decor, Sans had to corral Frisk away from all the shiny decorations. It was like herding cats. They didn’t exactly need a new salad bowl. Or new cups or dishes. Or fake potted plants.

Frisk did end up piling a bunch of pretty throw pillows and abstract art prints into the cart, along with the necessary bed sheets and comforter that would fit onto the bed. The duvet itself looked like its own abstract art piece, with mottled black, white and blue colors. Truly, Sans wasn’t much of a designer, so he let Frisk pick out anything. He was happy with most all of her choices, except for when she expressed interest in a flowery, grandmotherly type duvet.

Once everything was picked out, they spent the last hour in the warehouse finding, retrieving and paying for the bed and all of their items. Sans followed through with his wish of grabbing some of the famous Swedish meatballs.

Once they were all finished and ready to go, one of the employees cautiously approached them.

"Do you need any help loading…?" asked the employee. Sans glanced down at Frisk and grinned as smoke began to pour out of his eye sockets and circle the two and their boxes.

"Nah," he said as the employee looked on with a mixture of terror and strange fascination as the mist covered them. As the red smoke cleared, the employee gasped and stumbled back. They were gone!

                                                    ⁂

"Was that really necessary?" Frisk asked with a breathless laugh. Sans rose a brow as the boxes thumped to the ground around them.

"Probably not, but you know what is?" He growled as he snaked an arm around her waist. She quirked a brow and shot him a challenging smirk.

"What?" She breathed. He clutched her chin in his large hand and leaned her head back as he kissed her. She let out a heavy breath and wrapped her arms around his neck. He nibbled her lips and heat shot down her stomach.

Sans pressed her against the wall as his hunger for her overcame him. She hummed as she pulled his head away from her and bit her lip with a sultry gleam in her eyes.  

"Not yet…" she sing-songed. He growled under his breath and she tapped his fangs. She smiled and slid out from under him. He snatched her hand and pulled her back to face him.

"Just one more kiss?" He purred. She smiled sweetly and cupped his face with her hands. They shared a gentle kiss before she patted his cheek bones and pranced away to gather the heavy boxes. We're gonna have a great time tonight.

[nykrose]

CHARACTER SHEET repost. do not reblog.

   𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME.    Too dangerous to be known, much less spoken 

PRONUNCIATION.  Nyk is pronounced “Neck,” but most people say “Nick.” 

NICKNAME.   Nyk, Niklas Nilsson, and Fenfaxi are all nicknames and aliases

GENDER.    Unmistakably Male 

HEIGHT.   5′7″ /  175cm

AGE.   We just don’t know 

ZODIAC. None! Would be a Scorpio/Horse most likely, but he was never born

SPOKEN LANGUAGES. The entire lineage beginning with PIE and ending in Swedish, also Greek, Latin and English 

   𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR.    Sable to auburn

EYE COLOR.    Amber 

SKIN TONE.    Pale, like the belly of a trout but sexier 

BODY TYPE.   Swimmer’s physique minus body fat and plus obvious ability to fight bears 

ACCENT.   He even laughs in Swede

DOMINANT HAND.    Right, more out of habit than any demands of the brain

POSTURE.  Alert, upright, casually confident 

SCARS.  None

TATTOOS. None 

BIRTHMARKS.   None 

MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S).  Nyk is Designed so that every feature is remarkably and distinctly, well, Nyk. Most folk notice the judgmental stare first, if not the hair

   𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH.  In the WILD...eventually it became Sweden

HOMETOWN.  None 

SIBLINGS.    None 

PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT.   None

   𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION. Pain in the Ass Witch, force of nature binding reality together, financial advisor (modern verse)

CURRENT RESIDENCE. Always in a body of water. He keeps a small cabin in some verses

CLOSE FRIENDS. That’s some verse dependent shit right there 

RELATIONSHIP STATUS.  Widower/divorced, depending on your point of view

FINANCIAL STATUS.  He lives well beneath his means

DRIVER’S LICENSE.   Yes. It needs an update; currently his birthdate is listed as 1962 and he’s getting tired of the wordplay involved in explaining the obvious discrepancy without outright lying (Modern verse.)

   𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION.     Heterosexual. Can be flexible but that takes more patience than it’s worth for most people

PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE.     submissive  |  dominant |  switch

PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE.     submissive  |  dominant |  switch

LIBIDO.    Sex Fiend

TURN ONS.   Have you tried just looking at him? Hair pulling or touching his chest work, too

TURN OFFS.    Roleplay, bodily waste, dirty talk, most things tbh. Anal. He’s a prude

LOVE LANGUAGE.   Quality Time

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.  Nyk is monogamous. He still spends a lot of time alone, as much out of necessity as personal preference. Whether due to his wild mood swings or narrow focus of interest he can veer between dangerously affectionate and reserved, then back again. He's just like that. It doesn't mean anything.

   𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

HOBBIES TO PASS TIME.  He plays his fiddle, eats like a herd of swine and causes mischief. Kind of a workaholic outside of that

ILLNESSES.   Can get sick, can’t die from it

FEARS OR PHOBIAS.   He fears enslavement and for his spawn

SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. I’m a god! How can you kill a god? What a grand and intoxicating innocence!

VULNERABILITIES.  Iron, his true name, Warheads candy, any variation of the word "butthole"

[lihikainanea]

You've done a couple of asks about Tiger being insecure with her mind and body but what about Bill? What if Bill got so into his head that he thought Tiger was going to leave him and/or that she didn't want him anymore. -💜

Anonymous said: That drabble about Tiger getting insecure about her stretch marks, when Bill thinks that she might have changed her mind about them - you almost killed me. Could you make some angst about this? Like, Bill getting into his head, feeling insecure about his place in her life, also feeling dumb because he knows she loves him, but he can help it

You know what I love about you guys? I love how sometimes I am so black or white--like, thinking tiger is the only one who can be insecure about her body because it’s Bill and have you seen Bill what the fuck would Bill have to be insecure about? But then here you guys come with your 10,000 shades of grey that you throw at me and I go...oh. Oh. Because you bring things to my attention that my simple little brain never thought of.

Let’s be all extra here and say that you know what? Bill starts to feel a little unworthy, starts to doubt himself, whenever he feels like he let tiger down in his role in their relationship...like say, that awful time that he pushed her too far and she said her safe word. Or how about the time when she was really far gone, and he actually scared her? (also, le babie anon--I haven’t seen you in awhile. Are you okay? Where ya at?) The Tumblr search function is trash and the second part of that drabble isn’t coming up, but here let me just throw this one at you too--some insights into his occasional dom drop(s).

Because here’s the thing, right? Bill still can’t believe just half the shit that tiger lets him do to her. The amount of trust in him, just the way she is this big badass but she will let him spank her and reduce her to a blubbering mess of begging and pleading submissiveness....Bill is beside himself every time. He just can’t believe that she lets him--nay, begs him--to do that to her. But he also feels this incredible responsibility, feels the weight of that trust and knows the magnitude of it, and it’s something he takes very, very seriously.

So when he screws up sometimes--which is normal, because this dynamic is not without its hiccups--he gets really, really hard on himself. Because a tiny screw up for him is fine, but that tiny screw up could have devastating impacts on tiger and he doesn’t ever want that. And when he does screw up, he starts to think that maybe...maybe tiger should be with someone who can fulfill her needs more. Someone who knows more about this sort of thing. Somebody who won’t make nearly as many mistakes as he’s made. Somebody who will only ever make her feel incredible, without the horrendous drops of his fuck ups.

Because at the end of the day, he loves her. She means the world to him, and he wants nothing other than for her to be in the best hands--whether or not they’re his own. He wants what’s best for her--he just doesn’t always think he’s, you know, it.

She deserves someone who is around more. Someone who doesn’t have a spotlight on them, so that she can fade into the wallpaper like she’d much prefer to do. She deserves someone she can be affectionate with in public, without any associated risk or attention. Someone that maybe she can be small with all the time, if that’s what she wants. Bill internalizes just...all of this. And he beats himself up over it--and it’s totally ridiculous, because all tiger ever wants is just...him. He’s the only person who has ever made her feel safe, and because she feels so safe with him, she’s able to be her true self in their dynamic. She’s able to show a vulnerable side to herself that she never shows anyone, she’s able to be needy and whiney and to beg shamelessly for what she wants because she knows that she’s safe and that he’ll give it to her. She’s able to get fussy, to show her discomfort to him, and to trust wholeheartedly in the fact that if she does, he will make it disappear. He’ll make it go away, for her.

And I’ll bet, too--if we want an added layer of angst--I’ll bet Bill is indeed a little self-conscious about the way he looks. Because he’s just....like, he’s tall as fuck you know? And yes I think he’s very handsome, and yes most of us in this fandom do, but there is no denying that he’s freaky looking. In fact, the very first time I saw a picture of him I almost...recoiled. And I know that sounds harsh but his facial features are just incredibly striking, and VERY unusual when you first see them. I’ll bet he’s a little self-conscious about his big wonky eyes. About his height. About his clumsy, oaf-ness. Maybe every once in awhile those huge hands of his are such a nuisance--if he’s trying oh so carefully to clasp one of tiger’s necklaces for her, and he accidentally breaks it. He can’t do up buttons on her dress, because his huge ass fingers just can’t wrap around something that small and manoeuvre it. His extremities are always cold because there’s just not enough blood pumping through his gigantic body to keep him both alive and keep him warm. He speaks English fine but when he’s tired his accent comes back, and it is that stereotypical musical Swedish one that people love to make fun of. He’s too skinny. Sometimes if his clothes are too loose it makes him look straight up gaunt. Winter is hard, and he gets so pale that he looks like a fucking vampire. He can get really, really caught up in his head with these things and every now and then when he meets a new colleague or new friend of tiger’s and the person inevitably goes “holy shit you’re tall” or “holy shit your eyeballs” then it all just comes bubbling to the surface.

And for tiger’s part, if you were to ask her? All those things he hates are the exact things that get her so fucking wet for him, every time. Watching those huge, gentle hands try to manipulate something they are clearly too big for? Wet. Hearing him whack his head on a doorframe and cuss loudly? Wet. That little Swedish lilt and the way he forgets some English words when he’s exhausted? Wet. Those big eyes, and how they widen and just watch her every move sometimes? Wettttttttttt.

But I want to go back to the first point here, because god I’m just so weak for it. Bill being the only thing that tiger has ever needed, being so good to her, but also just berating himself when he fucks up. Berating himself to the point where he really does convince himself that he's just....he’s not good for her. She deserves more. Deserves better. And Bill sitting there quietly in bed, his arm wrapped loosely around her, spinning himself into a horrendous place in thinking that she just...she deserves more.

Does he leave? MY SOFF GIANT. I’ll bet he leaves. Runs off to his family’s lake house for a few days. And you know what? GOD IT’S A FUCKING MESS. Because maybe something in their dynamic went wrong--he scared her or something happened--and tiger needs him. She needs him, his safety, his comfort. And Bill thinking he needs to get away because all he ever does is hurt her or scare her, and she deserves more than that--so he leaves. And tiger is in shambles, and so is he, and IT’S JUST A FUCKING MESS AHHHHHHH.

[state-of-transit]

Catharsis | By Eosphorus

It was really dark. Not uncomfortably dark, but still, the light had mostly evaporated, and the shadows had fused themselves with trees, buildings, and people. People. That was one of the main things you would see, hear, but not feel. Was it because of the cold? Was it the hard winter’s fault? Or was it culture? But culture is always based on some context, which is dependent on its environment, is it not?

Enough, Mr. K. thought. Today I have things to do. He went out into the corridor, turned left and felt some small rays affectionately touching his face. For a minute it felt that he was in his hometown, a city in Greece, but that was not the case. He was in a small Swedish city called Umeå.

Umeå, he thought, a city named after a river. Rivers had always fascinated Mr. K. and he always thought that rivers were the veins of the world. Without rivers, life would probably not have evolved as it did. However, rivers and especially Umeå, had something that scared him. They had an absolute calmness, which for some was a blessing, but for him was a curse. He was used to noises. He lived in a city of almost 4 million people. When external noises were silenced, he would start hearing his inner ‘noises’. Something which he did not want to do, yet.

Ηe checked his surroundings; a combination of white and brown, muddy in some parts, but unspoiled and white in others. Those white parts were what kept him feeling that he should be more cheerful and a deep cold breath around those filled him up with power and energy. Studying in Umeå was not easy for Mr. K. as he had left behind many unfinished stories, which were still unfolding without him being able to control their evolution. But he did not care. Today was not the day to care. Today was the day to watch a phenomenon rooted in the history of humanity. Today was the day of Aurora Borealis.

~

Mr. K. lit a cigarette and started smoking it in front of the Nydalsjön lake. He really liked the sound of it – Nydalasjön, or Nydala in its abbreviated version. While thinking of the word he would hear the lake singing to him. It was a song unknown to him, a song which he had never heard - a song of silence. His thoughts started crawling out of the deepest recesses of his mind, and one by one they demanded to be paid tribute. Dark memories fighting happy memories; scary thoughts and anxieties threatened by hopes and dreams, and lastly, current realities unchecked and unbalanced taking over his heart. Anger, anxiety, self-contempt and sadness, all combined in a black meteorite fell in front of his eyes into the lake. An imaginary hell, a hell with no substance, all inside of him. He closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes.

The meteorite was gone, its constituents at the losing end. His hopes luminated his soul again. And it was then, exactly then, when a green dancing light appeared above the frozen lake, illuminating the skies just like the dawn of the goddess Aurora would have done early in the morning. It was her, it was Aurora Borealis, the Aurora of the North, the muse of the lake. He laughed, not knowing why. He laughed again and felt rejuvenated. He did not know why, but a simper formed on his lips for the first time since he had been in this small river-born town.

~

Our hero was there, sitting and imagining. Enjoying the calmness of the lake and the sounds made by its cracking ice. But it is time to consider the following: could the lake know? Could the lake understand who came to visit it? Who was this Mr. K. sharing a part of his soul with it, what did he want, and why, if it was, was it important?

Mr. K., as it turned out, was not just a person. He was an illustration of all the people that came to the lake. They all came with the same hope in mind; to find Catharsis. Catharsis is an ancient Greek word which means purification. It is a process of releasing all the repressed emotions inside of us, a process of clearance, a process of emotional survival. This process has been taking place for centuries and one, if he looks close enough, can see all those thoughts trapped inside the icy lake, pushing to come out, pushing to come back; they make all those ice-cracking noises, but the lake does not falter. It keeps them all trapped, protecting the people that visit it, the people that need it, those who want to survive. It needs to do this just for the winter, as afterwards, when spring comes, the tree fairies take on the role of the protector. It does this and asks for nothing in return. The healing lake, one could name it, but that would just be an exaggeration, as the lake never healed anyone. It is a mere guide - guiding all those who wander lost around its banks and helping them find their way inside their heart. Because if one loses his way towards a destination, he can always find it later, but if one loses his way to himself, then he is forever gone. And that is what the lake has been preventing for centuries.

Our hero stood up, sighed and closed his eyes for some seconds. A cracking noise was heard, and he shivered. It’s nothing, he thought to himself and tried to laugh again, but his smile was not the same. It had changed. But he did not care. Today was not the day to care. Today was the day he watched a phenomenon rooted in the history of humanity. Today was the day of the Aurora Borealis.

----

Photo by Sandro Santioli

[geekygamertech]

Launching & Trending games in 2020 - Geeky Gamer

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Minecrafts-Top 10 Trending Games in 2020

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Minecraft -Top 10 Trending Games in 2020-About the Game

THE WORLD IS YOURS FOR MAKING

Prepare for an adventure of limitless possibilities as you build, mine, battle mobs, and explore the ever-changing Minecraft landscape.

SEE MINECRAFT IN ACTION

ALWAYS SOMETHING NEW

New tools, locations, and spaces are yours to explore, thanks to our regular updates. Check out the latest.

15 Fun Facts About Minecraft

Whether you’re an avid player or have one in your life, you’ve probably had at least a brief encounter with Minecraft-Top 10 Trending Games in 2020 by now. Here are a few things you might not know about the gaming juggernaut.

1. THE FIRST VERSION OF MINECRAFT-Top 10 Trending Games in 2020  WAS CREATED IN JUST SIX DAYS.

In 2009, Swedish programmer and designer Markus Persson (known affectionately to fans as “Notch”) set out to create a sandbox game—one that allows for free and organic exploration of a virtual world—for the launch of his new company, Mojang AB. Persson began work on what is now Minecraft on May 10 of that year, amending the product in increments until May 16. The “alpha version” of Minecraft made its public debut the very next day.

2. THE GAME WASN’T DEEMED COMPLETE FOR ANOTHER TWO YEARS.

Following Minecraft’s release on PC, Mojang would periodically update and tweak the game until delivering what the company considered its full version on November 18, 2011.

3. THE GAME’S FIRST NAME WAS MUCH MORE STRAIGHTFORWARD.

When Persson kicked off the development process, he referred to the project as “Cave Game.” The name was soon changed to Minecraft: Order of the Stone, and, ultimately, just Minecraft.

4. MINECRAFT WAS INSPIRED BY SEVERAL OTHER GAMES.

Minecraft’s creator has heralded PC video games Dwarf Fortress, Dungeon Keeper, RollerCoaster Tycoon, and Infiniminer as the primary influences for Minecraft. Persson has expressed particular esteem for Infiniminer, stating that he wanted to match its aesthetic charm with RPG-style gameplay.

5. CREEPERS BEGAN AS A CODING ERROR.

One of Minecraft’s stranger native species is the creeper, an electrically charged predator with a haunting mug. Persson didn’t actually set out to design such a monster; he was trying to create a pig, but accidentally switched the figures for the desired height and length when inputting the code. The result was the monstrosity that players know and love.

6. THE ENDERMAN LANGUAGE IS ACTUALLY ENGLISH IN REVERSE (OR PITCHED DOWN).

Another haunting Minecraft species is the Enderman. While this creature’s speech is nearly incomprehensible to the human ear, most of its exclamations are in fact English words and phrases (including “hiya,” “here,” “this way,” “forever,” and “what’s up?”) played backward or lowered in pitch.

7. GHASTS ARE VOICED BY A SLEEPING CAT.

One other Minecraft monster owes its vocal rumblings to a real-world creature. Any player will recognize the high-pitched whine of the ghast, the game’s resident block-shaped fire-breather. These sounds are actually the result of an accidental audio recording of Minecraft music producer Daniel “C418” Rosenfeld’s cat as it was suddenly awakened from a nap. Rosenfeld originally planned to have his cat voice the game’s ocelots, too but was only successful in eliciting a meow mixed with a purr and ended up having to download real ocelot audio.

8. MINECRAFT PLAYS A BIG ROLE AT A SWEDISH SCHOOL …

In 2013, the Viktor Rydberg secondary school in Stockholm introduced Minecraft as a mandatory part of its curriculum for all of its 13-year-old students. A teacher explained what made the game worthwhile for students: “They learn about city planning, environmental issues, getting things done, and even how to plan for the future.”

9. BUT IS AN EVEN BIGGER DEAL IN DENMARK.

Sweden’s neighbor to the south has touted an even more impressive affection for Minecraft. In 2014, state employees Simon Kokkendorf and Thorbjørn Nielsen of the Danish Geodata Agency completed a scale replica of the entire nation of Denmark within the digital world-building game to help drive interest in geographic data.

10. GAME’S FAME IS THE PRODUCT OF FREE MARKETING.

According to a study conducted by Annenberg School of Communication doctoral student Alex Leavitt, one-third of early Minecraft users first heard about the game from friends and another third discovered the game through YouTube videos.

11. DESPITE CLAIMING AN INFINITE SPAN, THE GAME’S WORLD HAS SEEN ITS LIMITS.

In 2011, Persson took to his personal blog to address the limitations of the allegedly boundless world of Minecraft:

Let me clarify some things about the ‘infinite’ maps: They’re not infinite, but there’s no hard limit either. It’ll just get buggier and buggier the further out you are. Terrain is generated, saved and loaded, and (kind of) rendered in chunks of 16*16*128 blocks. These chunks have an offset value that is a 32 bit integer roughly in the range negative two billion to positive two billion. If you go outside that range (about 25% of the distance from where you are now to the sun), loading and saving chunks will start overwriting old chunks. At a 16/th of that distance, things that use integers for block positions, such as using items and pathfinding, will start overflowing and acting weird.

12. HOWEVER, ONE DEVOTED FAN CHOSE TO SET OFF ON AN ENDLESS QUEST.

Players would have to walk an extreme distance—the digital equivalent of approximately 7500 miles—before witnessing a serious coding meltdown. This virtual wasteland was known, appropriately, as the “Far Lands.”

Right around the time of the aforementioned blog post, gamer Kurt J. Mac decided to test the limits of Minecraft and travel to the Far Lands. He began his quest in March 2011. Don’t think it a total waste of time; Mac earned a good deal of notoriety on YouTube and raised over $250,000 for Child’s Play Charity. (The Far Lands, sadly, were removed in an update to the game later that year; you’d need version 1.7.3 or earlier to follow in Mac’s virtual footsteps.)

13. THE CREATOR’S AVATAR BOASTS A UNIQUE TRAIT.

Appropriately enough, Persson reserved a special trick for his personal Minecraft avatar. His character is the only game resident who drops an apple when he dies.

14. PERSSON OPENED UP BIDDING FOR MINECRAFT WITH A TWEET.

Ostensibly fed up with the corporate politics that accompanied running a video game developer, Persson sent out a tweet in June 2014, hoping to gauge the interest of any outside parties in purchasing his Mojang shares. Three months later, he officially sold the company to Microsoft for $2.5 billion.

15. EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE, THE GAME GETS ITS OWN NAME WRONG.

One in every 10,000 times you play the game, its introductory menu will flash a misspelling of its own title, reversing the “E” and the “C” to read, “Minecraft.”