#Well struggling-to-accept anyway-- he's doing his best

[thriftedtchotchkes]

hi idk if u remember me but i literally love u okay anyways

so literally just dbf!joel saying “sweetheart i need you to be quiet” and ”baby i’m gonna cum if you don’t shut up” and maybe covering her mouth at some point 🤭

have a wonderful day and thank u sm for ur time 🙏🏾

hii love, ofc i remember you! tysm for sending this in ♡ accidentally got inspired by my dinner last night, oops. hope you enjoy!!

does your mother know?

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak, close family friend!joel, language, smut, rough sex, unprotected piv, age gap, mild exhibitionism, old man joel can't keep it in his pants at family dinner

word count: 1.7k

Friday night dinner wasn’t supposed to go like this.

One hand buried in your hair and the other slapped over your mouth, muffling every moan and sigh you make while Joel fucks you against the sink in the upstairs bathroom of your family home. 

He'd arrived late with a charming, drawled apology and immediately made the mistake of taking the seat across from you. If he'd sat literally anywhere else, he might've been able to ignore the perfect curve of your tits in the lowest-cut shirt he'd ever seen you in, or your constant need for the salt and pepper shakers, conveniently placed right in front of his plate. 

Every time you leaned over the table, he was reminded of the fact that you’d decided to forgo a bra. Whether that was for his benefit or yours, he was doing his best not to find out. 

Not after your parents had taken the time to invite him here, insisting that he eat a home-cooked meal for once, knowing full well he's been surviving off TV dinners ever since Sarah left for college.

“That’s kinda rude of me, huh?” you smiled sheepishly after giving him a particularly revealing peek, but the look that followed was downright sinful. "My bad, I just didn’t wanna keep interrupting your dinner by asking you to pass the salt. Figured it’s been a while since the last time you ate."

And you were right. It had been a while since he’d tasted anything as sweet as you, that satisfied him the way you do, but you already knew that. It’s why you were baiting him—because you know he can’t resist you.

Still, he tried. He really did, but the Southern gentleman in him couldn't refuse dessert or the hefty glass of wine your mom poured after he'd finished helping her clear the table. So, when he'd found himself trapped between your familiar warmth and the armrest of the couch, he should've known there'd be trouble.

When you'd casually gestured a little too widely during the story you were telling and splattered half the glass across his flannel and jeans, he should've gone to the bathroom to treat the stains alone instead of accepting your apologetic offer to help.

He should’ve known better. 

But the second your doe eyes lock with his, roving over his body like the lovely dinner your mom made wasn’t nearly enough to fill you up, he realizes he does know better. He just doesn't give a shit.

And that's why you're bent over the sink, taking his cock like you were made for it, and making the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard. You either don’t care enough to stop, regardless of whether your parents can hear you or not, or you’re too blissed out to notice. But he does.

“Sweetheart, I need ya to be quiet,” he grits out tightly, barely audible over his hips slamming into yours and the filthy squelch of your pussy around him. “Don’t want us gettin’ caught, do ya?”

You can’t respond, or even nod, with his hand still held firmly over your mouth, so you whine your acknowledgment into his palm, squeezing your eyes shut as you try your best to do what he asked. 

You’re clearly struggling. Those muted, stuttered whimpers grow louder every time he buries himself to the hilt, and he almost wants to remove his hand and let the sounds of your pleasure echo around the room, so everyone in this house knows just how good he’s making his girl feel. 

“I know, baby, I know. Feels good, don’t it? S’hard to keep all those pretty noises in when you’re takin’ so much, but I need’ya to try,” his lips graze your ear with each growled word. 

Another pained whimper passes your lips through the cracks between his fingers, and he accidentally bucks into you harder than he means to. Christ, he’s never heard you sound like this before. So needy. He shouldn’t, but he wants to hear more. To feel your chest vibrate with it, watch in the mirror as your mouth parts around even just one perfect, drawn-out moan.

The hand buried in your hair trails down your neck, beautifully elongated as your back arches to take him deeper, and snakes around your body. He tugs down the front of your shirt—that flimsy fucking tank top that's been teasing him all night—to cup your breast and, fuck, you like that. Your pussy grips him in response, clenching intermittently while he roughly tweaks your nipple between two calloused fingers. 

You’re tight, almost too tight for him to keep up his merciless pace if he wants to last much longer, and so goddamn wet. You’re seeping right into the wine-stained fabric of his jeans, making an even bigger mess than you started with.

“Look at ya,” he mumbles, slowing to watch in awe as his cock drags against your entrance, reappearing slicker with every thrust. “So fuckin’ tight...and sloppy. You’re makin’ a mess of me, sweetheart."

You shudder under his rapt attention, at the sheer want in his voice, but despite the obvious effect of his words, you’re still staying quiet, just like he told you to. You’ve been such a good girl, so he decides to take a risk and reward you. 

“M'gonna let go, alright? But ya gotta keep bein' good for me," he leans down to press his lips between your shoulder blades, his hand dropping from your mouth to settle on your waist. "Don't need'ta be silent, just need'ya to keep it down. Can ya do that?"

You gasp as his slow, deep thrusts still and he presses flush against your ass, grinding into you languidly as he waits for your answer. 

"Y-yeah...yes, yes," you reply weakly, cold ceramic digging into your breasts as you pant heavily into the sink. "Keep going—p-please, just fuck me."

"That's my girl," he breathes raggedly, and he's a little ashamed at how quickly his balls start to tighten at the soft timbre of your voice. 

His pace abruptly picks up, and then he's forcing you onto his cock again, his hips slamming into yours with a steady, wet thock-thock-thock that's probably louder than you've been all night. But he doesn't stop—you feel way too fucking good to stop, and he likely couldn't even if he tried.

In the back of his mind, he tells himself that your parents are probably doing dishes by now, and whatever he's doing to their daughter upstairs is getting drowned out by running water and clattering dishware. 

He continues to repeat the shitty lie to himself as he yanks you up, pulling your back flush against his chest and wrapping an arm around your stomach to hold you in place. The abrupt shift changes the angle of his hips so he’s fucking up into you instead, and it feels...indescribable. 

He's hitting something he wasn't able to reach before, a sensitive spot impossibly deeper inside you that has your pussy squeezing him, gushing down his cock, and he's—

Fuck, he's not going to last long. 

"Mmph...fuck—there, Joel, there. So, so fucking close, please, need it harder."

Christ, and you begging him to fuck you harder isn't helping. His hand drops between your legs to your swollen clit, slipping through the slick mess to rub tight, insistent circles into the hardening nub, and the heady friction has your thighs quaking almost immediately. 

"S'good...feels soso good," you slur deliriously, teetering on the cusp of your orgasm. "Wanted you so fucking bad all night...ngh, should've fucked me right there on the table—"

Joel cuts you off before you can finish, pushed a little too far past his limit.

"Baby, m'gonna cum if ya don’t shut up," he grits through his teeth, still pounding into that spot, still rubbing hard and fast swirls into your clit, and he can feel how close you are.

"F-fuck, me too—m'so close. Fill me up, please."

That sends him over the edge. You barely have time to gasp in a breath before he shoves you back down, lifting one of your legs up to the side so he can sink even deeper as he practically mounts you on the edge of the sink.

"Fuck yeah, I'll fill ya up," he groans, drawn-out and wrecked, as he empties inside you, thick spurts coating your convulsing walls. His hands greedily roam your body, caressing every inch of bare skin he can reach. "Send ya back downstairs to your momma and daddy with my cum leakin' out of ya. Filthy fuckin' girl."

Three more achingly deep thrusts, and then you're cumming hard, exploding hot and wet around him, already feeling him start to drip out of you and down your thighs. Your entire body seizes, desperate not to make a single sound while he fucks you through your orgasm, but then Joel meets your eyes in the mirror.

The warm chestnut of his eyes has been completely overtaken by his blown-pupils and he looks a little wild, like he's about to do something you'll both regret. Then, he does. Without warning, he buries his face into the crook of your neck and bites down hard, sucking a bruise into your skin he knows you won't be able to hide, and the squeal that erupts from your chest is high-pitched enough that you know everyone in the house heard it.

The thought alone stokes the heat already starting to build in the pit of his groin again, and the sight of his cum leaking out of your pussy in thick globs when he pulls out only fans the flames.

"M'takin' you home, sweetheart. Gonna fuck ya the way you deserve," he mumbles into your marked skin, and you tremble in his arms, whimpering softly through an aftershock. "Then, you can scream as loud as ya want—"

"Everything alright up there?" Your mom's voice filters up the stairs. "What, did one of y'all fall into the sink?"

Joel noses into your hair, chuckling before he responds.

"Just finished."

[wilwheaton]

I’m going to improve that other guy’s question. Have you met all seven stars of Star Trek TOS, and if you haven’t, who didn’t you meet?

Not only have I met them, I am privileged to call many of them my friends. George has been a mentor to me since 1987, and he only found out (because I told him) last year that I've been modeling my choices and interaction with fans after what I saw him do for so many years.

You probably know that my father is an abusive, bullying, piece of shit who terrorized me my entire childhood before going out of his way to be cruel to me when I was really struggling with all the attention I got as a teenager. So it was in that environment that I first met George and Walter and Nichelle, and they all treated me with love and kindness that I had never gotten from any of the adults in my life (save my Aunt Val). They made sure I knew that I was part of a family, now, if I wanted to be, and that they accepted me just the way I was.

I had never experienced that before. Attention, approval, even basic affection were all conditional and never freely given in my home. I lived in a house with four other people, but I didn't have a family because my father wouldn't let me into the family he made with my brother and sister; I was a thing my mom used to chase her dreams of fame, and -- worst of all -- they hated each other so much, I got put on her "team" without my knowledge or consent, and my dad treated me accordingly.

It was just an awful, painful, lonely existence that was only made better at all by my Star Trek family, who made me feel loved and valued for 10 hours a day. And that didn't just start and end on my set; it was handed down to us from the original series cast (well, most of them, anyway) and I do my best now, as a 51 year-old Legacy Trek Cast Member, to be for the new cast members who George and Frakes were and are for me.

[meara-eldestofthemall]

Gee, thanks DC! You Just Turned Bruce Into An Irredeemable Ass.

So, at the end of Gotham War Bruce has officially lost everything. Alfred is still dead, Selina is "presumed dead" and Bruce is both financially and morally broke. Why, you may ask, is Bruce so much worse off this time? Let me count the ways.

He preformed a psychic lobotomy on Jason

The "it's for your own good" excuse only makes the mental rape undertaken by Jason's own father that much more heinous.

Just when you think Bruce can't sink any lower he does. When Dick recognizes that Bruce has lost it, he attempts to use a failsafe disconnect that Bruce himself built into the system. How does Nightwing get thanked for that? Well that brings us to number two on the list.

Batman attacks up his eldest son for doing what he's supposed to do when Batman has gone rouge.

Bruce beats him up because nothing proves you are in control of your sanity like hitting your children. While Dick is holding back, Bruce does no such thing. He hits Nightwing hard enough to send him flying. It could have gotten even worse if Tim hadn't shown up.

Tim arrives and attempts to talk some sense into Batman.

Tim tries to talk Bruce down. It doesn't go well. When Robin is trying to help, as he always does, Batman uses the attempt to reason with him to put the smack down on his son. Bruce could have killed Tim but apparently feels no remorse or guilt.

If there was any teeny tiny little doubt that Bruce will not win the Father of The Year award in 2023 it died a horrible screaming death when Batman abandons his children to potential arrest. Yes, he left a batarang for Dick and Tim but any glimer of possible hope associated with that action was instantly extinguished by Damian's reaction to Batman's callous betrayal.

Bruce abandons Damian.

Look at Dami; he's devastated. Since he came into Bruce's life, Damian has struggled with feelings that he can never earn his father's love and respect. Well, that negative self-image was reinforced in way that may never be repairable. Bruce just utterly destroyed a 13 year old child because of his inability to feel any kind of empathy.

And how does this all end? The best part is that Bruce takes all of his parental responsibilities and dumps them onto Dick.

Thank you Chip Zdarsky and Trini Howard. You've taken Batman from being an edgy anti-hero and made him into a callous monster. Part of me hopes that Bruce never comes back because he doesn't deserve his family.

The only positive aspect in this convoluted mess is that Damian and Tim will be far better off with Dick than with Bruce. Yes, Tim is mostly independent but he still needs guidance (particularly since Tim's first instinct is to try and save Bruce). Damian is essentially Dick's son emotionally anyway so this might help to sustain the positive character growth we've seen in him as of late.

The point of this rant is to wonder what on earth DC thinks they're doing. This story arc has been pure character destruction as far as Bruce is concerned. It's bad storytelling too; rushed, frenetic and massively disappointing.

Hasn't the popularity of Good Dad Bruce in Wayne Family Adventures proved that fans are tired of Bruce being a dark depressed and brooding edge lord? We all accept that Batman is a character with deeeeep issues who is in desperate need of therapy. I, however, draw the line at Bruce being an abusive a**hole.

In years to come when fans wonder when Batman jumped the shark, this is the plot line they'll point to.

[giannaln4]

Silly Little Bet

lando norris x artist!reader

summary: You were an artist and Lando loved to do what you did best with you, even if he wasn't very good at it. (917 words)

warnings: this turns into a make out (not heavy, very short), use of y/n

a/n: hi lovelies! i know i said i was going to take a little break, but honestly i just need to not think about quali today (still crying about it idk what to tell you). anyway, this is incredibly short so i’m sorry but i still hope you enjoy it! pls let me know what you think!! feedback is very much appreciated 🫶🏻 i also wanted to thank everyone who reached out to me and sent support ❤️‍🩹 ily all so much, i really appreciate it!!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

Quiet nights were your absolute favourites. Getting to spend time with your boyfriend without having to worry about some schedule one of you had to stick to was perfect, to say the least. You always found a way to occupy yourselves, doing anything and nothing at the same time. 

Tonight, though, you got to do one of your favourite activities: art. You were an artist, a professional one, and of course he loved that about you; he loved seeing you in your element, so focused on what you did best, and even though he didn’t know yet, you loved dragging him with you so you could see him struggle a bit to at least not be the worst artist the world has ever seen.

Now, he was extremely talented, and if he weren’t a racer, he would be somewhat of an artist; he’s said it himself many times, but that was before he met you, because compared to you, he would never say that about himself, no matter how many times you have said it to him. 

Right now, you found yourselves sitting on your shared bed, facing each other, trying to win a silly little bet you made earlier. It was simple, really. You were supposed to draw the other person, and whoever loses would have to come up with a plan for dinner, which the both of you already knew would end up being a homemade meal, eating it on the couch, and watching some dumb show. This really worked out for him because, as talented as he was, he still struggled to draw real people, and he knew he was setting himself up when he accepted.

You knew that too, and you also knew he only gave in so he could have another one of your drawings of him. But that was okay, because another one of your favourite things was to admire his focused expression while he tried to replicate someone on a blank piece of paper. 

If he was being completely honest, the top reason he loved doing some type of art with you was because you would always come up to him and help with something, holding and guiding his hand or just being really close to his face as you explained something, so he would never say no to that suggestion.

“Okay, so I do you and you do me. Do I have to paint it as well?” He asked as you poured some of your art supplies on the bed.

“No, just a quick sketch,” you replied, scanning the bed as you carefully chose the pencil you wanted to use. “I’m starving, anyway.”

You started sketching each other; you were faster (and probably better) than him, but you couldn’t help but blush any time his eyes fixated on your face for too long, studying every aspect of you to try to draw it. After several minutes, you were done, just finishing up a few details before placing the paper on the bedside table next to you, away from him so he wouldn’t see it yet.

“How is it going?” You asked.

He looked up at you and yelled, “Don’t move!” When you started to get up.

"Sorry,” you whispered, going back to your previous position.

You stayed like that for a while, watching as Lando looked at you repeatedly and then back at the paper, occasionally erasing stuff. He was almost done, but there was one thing holding him back. “I can’t get it right,” he sighed, dropping the pencil.

“What can’t you get right?”

“Your lips. They look too big or too small, and now the paper looks worn out from erasing so much.” He was clearly frustrated.

“Can I see it?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” Lando asked you with an embarrassed look.

“Of course I’m not going to laugh; why would I do that?”

“You are a real artist, Y/N. You finished a while ago, and I’ve been stuck here trying to fix it, but I’ve only made it worse.”

“Lando, you are actually talented; I don’t make you do art with me because I wanna have a laugh. C’mon, show me.”

He sighed again and slowly turned the paper, showing you the drawing. “It looks terrible.”

Your eyes set on the paper, and an endeared smile appeared on your face. “It looks great, baby.”

"No, it doesn’t; as I said, you’re an artist, and you know exactly what’s wrong with it.”

“I mean it." You whispered, leaving your spot on the bed and sitting next to him, “Maybe the proportions are a bit off, but it does look great, I promise.”

“Thanks,” he replied with a smile, a moment of silence filling the room as you both stared at the drawing. “You know, maybe I just need to take a closer look at them.”

“Oh- I guess that would be helpful." You turned your body to face him, cupping his cheek and brushing away a few curls that rested on his forehead. “Do you want help?”

He nodded and broke the distance between you, locking his lips with yours as he pulled you onto his lap and his hands fell on your hips to intensify the kiss. You got closer and closer, pausing when your bodies couldn’t possibly get any closer to each other even if you tried.

“You know I can actually help you,” you said against his lips and in between kisses.

“Uh huh” Lando replied, not really thinking about the drawing anymore.

[reidrum]

castling | s.r.

A/N: another deeply self indulgent hurt comfort angst who’s surprised…i wrote this kinda fast so if it’s messy and cheesy sorry :/

cw: gn!reader (pls lmk if i missed something that doesn’t make it gn), hurt comfort, mentions of depression, ambiguous sadness, trivialization of chess, inaccurate chess jargon?, spencer is a darling

summary: in which reader finds it hard to open up and communicate their feelings with spencer, so he comes up with an idea to help

wc: 1.4k

not proofread sry

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3

_______________________________________________

It started during a game of chess, when Spencer was showing you different special moves.

“It’s called castling, the idea is that you move the king two spaces towards the rook and then switch their places to allow more protection for your king than if it was in the center.”

“Why would you want to move the king towards the outside, that seems counterintuitive.”

“Smart girl, that’s a good question,” he says fondly, “It’s kind of a last ditch effort in a sense, the rook is essentially expendable but the castling moves the king out of the line from key pieces like the other king and queen.”

“So, it’s like a rescue mission.”

He smiles, “Like a rescue mission.”

You smile back and continue with your next move. Spencer watches you in earnest as you deliberate the best plan of attack, even though he knows he’s gonna let you win by the end anyway.

“How was your day today?” He watches your demeanor change quickly, your shoulders sagging slightly and your eyebrows furrowing. He knew the answer, he’s a great observant and even more so when it comes to you.

“It was…fine.”

“Just fine?” he challenges, moving his bishop.

You nod and move your knight. You’re waiting for him to move his next piece when you realize he’s not looking at the board anymore.

Looking up you see hazel eyes staring right back at you, “Sweetheart,”

“Spencer, don’t.”

He sighs, “You know,” he moves his pawn, “this isn't the first time that you’ve had a hard time communicating with me how you feel.”

A deep sigh leaves you now, it had always been a struggle for you to show emotion so openly to those you love, mainly Spencer. You just didn’t want to worry him with the throes of your mind, and while Spencer appreciated the sentiment he reminded you repeatedly that he’s there for you through it all and just really wants you to take advantage of that.

“I just want to help you, angel.” he says softly, “I can’t do that if you don’t let me in. You don’t even have to tell me what’s wrong, just that something is wrong.”

Tears well up in your eyes, “I know Spence. I—It’s just, saying out loud that I’m—whatever—makes it real. A—And then you get so worried and I get more anxious—“

“Hey. It’s my job to worry about you. Because I love you,” he places his hands on yours, “But, I was thinking what if we had a code word or something, just a single word, and you can say it or text me or anything and I’ll know that you’re not feeling well.”

Your face softens at his proposal. The irony you face is that your brain has convinced you healing can be done alone, that if you’re the one who fucked up the road you should be the one to repair it. While you know logically healing is more effective when you have support, it doesn’t make it any easier for you to accept the help you need, that Spencer feels you deserve.

“I think…that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah?” he replies, “Do you want to pick the word?”

You think about it for a few minutes. You don’t want to do a silly word like banana or chicken, you want something that maybe doesn’t sound serious but would still convey the intent of the code word.

“Does castling work?” you offer softly.

Spencer’s face morphs into something you can’t quite decipher, but to him it’s a mix of adoration, love, and pure empathy for you. He’s just so touched by the fact you want to use that word, after just discussing the significance of that move. It’s an honor that you trust him enough to be your protecting rook.

“Yeah, that’s perfect angel.”

You give a small nod, “Check.”

___

You knew he wouldn’t judge you, that’s the whole reason you came up with this system. It felt like an emergency contact, which it was, but in a “How bad is too bad before I call?” type of way.

Laid down in your bed, you stared at the glow of your phone with your messages with Spencer open. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, daring you to make a move.

Nothing even really happened today, it was just one of those periods where you were in a funk. The voices that lingered in your brain fed you disguised truths and cynicism, and it was hard to feel afloat with support when you couldn’t even tell what was pulling you down.

It didn’t matter though, your tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes amongst the disarray of your room which satirically matched the chaos in your mind were proof enough that maybe, you weren’t okay.

In this moment it would be stupidly easy to ignore it all and wallow in your own sorrow—Spencer was away on a case and you didn’t know when he was coming back.

So in a leap of faith, or perhaps a lapse in judgment, your thumbs twiddle a message out and press send.

castling

You toss your phone aside and try to avoid thinking about it. He’s probably busy, they’re on a case so he’s probably drawing out the geographical maps or maybe he’s on a raid or maybe he’s—DING.

Cautiously grabbing your phone, you slide the notification.

I’m on the plane, going to land in about an hour or so. I need to make one stop and then I’ll come straight to you, okay?

You stare through the blurriness of your eyes caused by your tears, the words blending together. Before the guilt of texting him and making him aware of your depressed state sinks in, another text comes through.

I love you. See you soon, angel.

Another choked sob releases from your throat, and you put the phone down before any more emotions try to infiltrate you. At some point you end up falling asleep on the bed, your body curled in on itself from the lack of warmth a nice blanket or Spencer could’ve provided.

You’re only stirred awake when you feel a soothing sensation on your head, long nimble yet intentional fingers sifting through your hair. You attempt to open your eyes through the thin crust it’s formed from crying so much, and you’re squinting for the first few moments of vision before registering the human in front of you.

“Hi honey.” Spencer whispers softly as you come to.

“Spence…when did you…”

“Just a couple minutes ago,” the hand in your hair comes to rest on your jaw, “How are you feeling?”

Tired eyes finally meet his brown ones and find nothing but reassurance and concern.

Oh. You’ve worried him now.

The last string of resolve snaps as your face crumbles in and you mutter out apologies mixed in with sniffles and sobs. Spencer moves from his knelt position in front of you to slide in next to you on the bed. He gingerly gathers you in his arms and tucks you into his side whispering it’s okay and you’re safe and i’m here.

After a few long minutes your breathing evens out. “You came.” you sniffled.

He pulls back to look at you with watered eyes, “You called. I’m so proud of you.”

You mumble under your breath, “I didn’t even do anything.”

Spencer shakes his head and tucks you right back in place, feeling the floppy fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, “I know a version of you that would’ve held it all in by yourself. Thank you for letting me be here for you.”

You turn your head into his chest further, letting the hot tears and snot stain his nice button up. His hands rub trails up and down your back, his head bent down to your ear whispering sweet nothings to you. With Spencer delicately taking your defenses down maybe you can finally admit to yourself that you were just too soft for all of it.

“Where did you have to stop by?” you wonder.

He smiles and readjusts you against his body, “I picked up Thai food,” “And some candy, sour of course. And there may be a Snoopy stuffie as well because it reminded me of you.”

You feel a different weight on your heart, not one that’s constricting but one that’s embracing, comforting. In a life where you’ve rarely felt taken care of, or even being worthy of that care, you know with certainty that Spencer would never let you go a day without knowing how much love and care you deserve.

[occamstfs]

Rosa's Cafe

Here's a longer Racial TF set in a coffee shop, Best! Occam

Matthew had clocked up more hours of overtime for his company than they were willing to pay him. He assumed that their guidelines weren’t so rigid and that he would be fine to get ahead early. These days you really need to go above and beyond to get ahead and Matthew was determined to get in the good graces of the big bosses.

Unfortunately working so hard was a misplay. His direct boss was forcing him to take Paid Time Off in lieu of the overtime pay for the past year. Now he sits at home with next to nothing to do, twiddling his thumbs until he can return to the grind. He loved back when he was a barista in college? Maybe he can get back to customer service?

Reflecting on this he takes to LinkedIn to see if there are any managerial spots open for a cafe. Something needs to scratch his itch for administration and he night as well pour coffee while doing so. In a stroke of luck, or perhaps something more deliberate, as soon as he logs in to check listings he sees a manager position at “Rosa’s Cafe.”

He auto-submits his resume to the restaurant assuming he’s overqualified before even reading the listing’s qualifications. Glancing through them he sees that they’d prefer someone fluent in Spanish. Matthew struggles to recall what if any Spanish remains in his head from taking it in both high school and college. He starts to pull up a language app on his phone before seeing that, jarringly fast, he has already been advanced to an interview for this cafe. Rosa herself sending him a message to come as soon as he’s ready. 

Matthew then sprints to check himself in a mirror. He has certainly not slacked in his hygiene since he was asked to stop coming into work, partially in hopes that they’ll need him to come in any day. Today though he throws on some cologne and drives off to Rosa’s Cafe. He doesn’t stop to question how odd it is to already be on the way to an interview, minutes after submitting his resume. They must just really need someone?

As soon as he arrives Rosa is there at the door to greet him, smiling wide and welcoming him into her establishment.

“Hola Matthew! So glad for you to join us, your application was outstanding! Solamente, I was wondering why you wanted this job given your current one?”

Matthew blushes and explains his situation, struggling not to sound like a maniac for wanting to work despite the relatively cushy situation he is in. Although Rosa hears this and is impressed at his ethic, his crave to work. Rosa was more than happy to take advantage of his situation.

“Uhhh there was just one thing though, Miss. Oh uh, lo siento. Señora Rosa.”

“Sí, sí. You aren’t quite fluent en Español, are you Matthew?” He averts his eyes but before he can answer Rosa continues on, “Esta bien. You will just learn on the job sí?”

Putting on an air of determination Matthew pumps his fist “Sí, Sra Rosa! Uh claro que sí,” he attempts, stepping to the limit of the Spanish remaining in his head. Rosa gives him a look like an owner watching a pet as it tries to show off, offering an ambiguous smile before explaining her stance.

“Claro que sí,” offering a knowing nod, “I’m sure you understand why I would want a manager to speak Español, yes? En esta ciudad, in this city, there are very few places where Español is the default. I would just like my cafe to be one of them. The job is of course yours, I would be a fool not to take the opportunity. But while you’re here, mientras estás aquí, please work on su Espanol,” tacking on, “I can’t imagine it will be too long before you’re called back to your job eh? Una estrella como tu” 

To her point there are clearly not a lot of people speaking English in the cafe. Matthew would guess he is probably the only native English speaker present making him blush, although after being flattered by Rosa he was ready to accept. After all he had been meaning to practice his Spanish anyway. He puts his hand out to shake her hand, “when can I start?”

“Well, mi pequeño gerente, why not start training now?” Turning around she calls over the barista Juan to introduce the two, talking to Juan at a speed that made it clear to Matthew that she was quite dumbing down her language in their conversation. She then bids farewell to the two, “adios Matthew! Tengo que ah, cόmo se dice, file your paperwork. Hasta mañana!”

“Hola Matthew, it is nice to meet you! Rosa said to show you around,” Juan smiles offering him a cup of their house roast. “Espero que, ah, I hope you don’t mind but I added canella, cinnamon.” Matthew graciously accepts the cup. He may be a world removed from his time as a barista but instantly returns to his first coffee tasting.

It smelled quite strong, darker than he usually prefers and he can see cinnamon swirling through the cup as the cup steams in his hand. He begins to bring the cup up for a closer smell although as soon as the movement begins the allure of the drink overpowers him and he drinks almost too quickly. It was delicious. He always, almost performatively, drank black coffee at his old job. Or no, his real job?

Juan sees Matthew continue to gulp down the cup of coffee waiting for reaction, though he sees very little sign of his mind processing the drink at all. Matthew’s just staring ahead, his eyes ever so slightly glazing over as he finishes the cup. He grins as it almost looks like the coffee has stained Matthew’s upper lip, offering a napkin before asking, “te gusta hermano?”

Matthew snaps back to his senses, staring at Juan as a small ring of brown starts to stain the center of his icy blue eyes. He struggles to even find the words to describe how profoundly he enjoyed the coffee. It was a passion too great for him to even begin to capture in English. “Juan, that was, cómo se dice? Is there some word better than delicioso?”

Juan laughs putting his arm around his new manager, “Ay hermano! Maybe that’s what you should do now! You just go work on your Spanish and I’ll bring you some samples! Ah, aqui, the employee handbook is in Spanish, practica perfecta!” He brings over another cup and the handbook and Matthew starts struggling through it. 

Matthew figuratively bashes his head into the handbook, it’s not dense but it is per cierto not written with beginners in mind. Smirking as he notices he just reflexively thought in Spanish, going to get another drink only to find the cup emptied once more. He hasn’t been drinking nearly as much since he left the office, bargaining with himself as Juan comes to refill his cup. He can cut back his intake later, he needs to get this through this work.

And work at it he does, caffeine is not making him feel wired as usual but sensual as he continues to page through the booklet. He starts to stretch just to feel the strain in his muscles and the tension in his clothes. He looks down and sees his shirt is fitting much better than he thought it did. It’s not tight but anyone who looks can see there is muscle under there. He stares at his own body feeling strength he does not remember cultivating. Suddenly he notices it’s not only his upper body that’s filling out, as a growing package begins to demand attention under the table. These jeans were clearly not designed to handle this and Matthew is barely able to stop himself from flexing to see just how much he truly can fill this outfit and he attempts to switch gears back to working. Urgently feeling adverse to thinking any further about his body.

Struggling to find any way to distract himself he remembers being historically shit at actually speaking in Spanish. This is as good a chance as any to practice his pronunciation. Matthew begins to mouth the words in the handbook, feeling his tongue in unfamiliar ways that he swears he has done a million times before. Matthew attempts to raise his practice to a whisper and immediately goes into a coughing fit. Hope that coffee didn’t burn my throat he thinks clearing his throat and finding a much deeper voice on the other side. One that announces his Spanish progress to the whole cafe shockingly loud for a whisper though Matthew doesn’t notice. What is immediately apparent to him is how expertly he rolled an R. 

He knows he could never do that, and not without trying. He probably spent half an hour practicing it his sophomore year. He reflects back on how hard he worked on Spanish in the past as his eyes start to glaze over once more. Something is off here, his hand raising to his face not notice a moustache and sloppy goatee start to push out of his face. He foes feel itchy elsewhere though, scratching at his chest and stomach, averting the more animalistic urge to scratch his pits and crotch as Juan begins to walk over.

Matthew quickly tries to meet him halfway, standing to a height just taller than the one he thought he knew to be true. His bulge grazes the bottom of the table which causes his body to convulse in pleasure. His feet are caught on the table as he falls knocking his coffee all over himself and the floor. “Mierda!” He shouts before going dark.

He awakens to Juan wiping coffee off his face, his clothes now certainly stained brown and spelling of rich coffee and cinnamon. Helping him back to standing, Juan makes sure he is alright, “quite the fall amigo! Tal vez we call it a day?” Matthew hastily agrees feeling impossibly strained and weary for what little work he has actually done. Juan continues, “Rosa said the paperwork should be good for you to start tomorrow if you can!” Stumbling to his feet Matt knows he agrees but the rest of his night is little more than a blur. 

He sees Juan wink at him and knows he is going to start tomorrow. He must drive home after that since he is now looking at himself in the mirror brushing his teeth. Something seems off, he is clearly too tired to put a finger on exactly what it is. He flexes his bicep noticing he must have completely disrobed. He thought he shaved his pits recently. He scratches at his crotch realizing that his now heavier cock is also out, pawing at his pubes and feeling his bulge expand even further into his hand before forcing it into some briefs and continuing his audit. 

Didn’t he have a tan? Looking at himself up and down he feels like he isn’t supposed to be this pale right? Isn’t he from? Matthew feels lightheaded and begins to collapse once more before being jarred back to reality smelling the coffee and cinnamon scent still hugging his chest. Using this second wind he stumbles into bed, neglecting to change into his nightclothes and he quickly drifts to sleep.

Matt falls into a dream that feels realer than the reality of his previous life. It’s the middle of the rush and he sees himself working at an espresso machine with Juan. He looks down seeing his body expertly maneuver around the bar, tossing cinnamon into drinks, chatting with customers in truly fluent Spanish. He pauses in this dreamscape to notice the tan he was so sure he had earlier. He sees the tattooed arms he has known for years, he worked hard enough for them after all, might as well show them off on the clock. He raises the hairy arms to flex at Juan and say something clever in his native tongue before being jarred back to reality by a sunbeam.

Matt awakens hearing his morning wood stretch his briefs to their near limit barely able to keep himself together before seeing the time and once more shouting “mierda!” He is already so late for work, they’ve been open for hours. It’s his first real day and he has already jod- he’s already fucked it up! He quickly inspects himself once more, seeing the true version of himself he saw in his dream. Seeing his recently shaved chest he quickly realizes he doesn’t have time for a shower. He smells his pits just to see how bad the damage is. His voice rumbles in his chest, “joder…”

He smells again even deeper, it reminds him of? Oh it is just on the tip of his tongue, which he begins to reach out before remembering his predicament. He throws on a dress shirt before giving one last whiff to his pits, flexing his pecs as he does so. It is so fragrant, almost spicy. Matt postpones the mystery after concluding it should certainly be covered by the smell at Rosa’s and rushing out the door. Not seeing as his chest pops off the top button of his shirt and his neat goatee begins to grow even thicker.

Matt rushes into the door and is greeted like a regular, which he is of course to be now, as the new manager. He feels a warmth in his chest as Juan brings over his first cup of the day. “Buenos días Juan!” Matt offers before going to meet the chef, Benito, as the plan was today.

Making his way back to the kitchen he smells something even more distracting to him than his body odor this morning. Benito runs over with a plate full of arepas that Matt recognizes instantly before Benito greets him, “buenos dias jefe! Rosa said you wanted us to start serving arepas sí?” 

“Rosa? She said, I asked for these?”

“Si! Desde su ciudad natal no?”

Matt’s mouth is overcome as he starts to clearly drool for the plate in front of him. He has no choice but to tear into one which immediately brings him back. He loved these when he was a kid, but? Didn’t he grow up en los estados? Wasn’t he from? He fails to finish the thought in his head before it is wiped away as if fireworks are going of in his mind. 

He beams at Benito as his eyes glaze over and fully darken to brown. He feels an urge to burp which he chokes down with another cup of coffee. “Ay this takes me back amigo, estos son exactamente como, like the ones mi abuela había before nos pequeños…” Matt pauses as he feels a pervasive warmth starts to grow distracting in his chest as a similar itch begins on the outside.

He doesn’t notice as his inner monologue begins to entirely shift away from English, as it should of course. He may live in los Estados hoy, but he was colombiano born and bred. He remembers how hard he worked as a child learning English as his biceps start to clearly strain the already tight dress shirt.

Matt remembers fighting for his place to get a degree at a university that did not respect his native country or tongue as he feels his voice deepen beyond baritone and into a strong bass. He remembers trying to find a place in this mierda ciudad before meeting Rosa as his chest bursts open shooting any buttons remaining off his shirt. 

Rosa then enters the kitchen to see how her new hire has progressed and slyly smiles seeing his progress. She tosses a shirt at him saying in Spanish now effortlessly understood “Oi Matteo! You’re in the kitchen put some clothes on!” 

Matteo shuffles to the restroom to change as he looks one last time in the mirror and sees the flawless trajabador he sees every time he checks himself out. He puts on his nametag flexing to see just how much he can strain his shirt before returning to the cafe, ready to conquer another day in the life he has worked so hard for.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

I'm so annoyed, my best friend has such an asshole for a husband. He basically never pays attention to her, all he cares about sport, beer and his friends. He never helps around the house and he's a lazy slob! He's always at the gym or going to the game with his bros. He's such a prick, maybe he should just be date his bros since he's so obsessed with them. He's always complaining about his wife "bothering him". Plus who would want to marry a slob anyway, as a husband he should be devoted to cleaning his house and caring about who he is married to.

I think I found the guy you're talking about, and you're totally right about him being an asshole. Your friend deserves better than an uncaring, selfish, pig-of-a-husband. That girl has tolerated him for too long! She won't be seeing him or his sexist buddies ever again when I'm done here...

Just look at him! The first thing he does when he gets home is grab a beer and park that fat ass of his on the couch. Sure, he might hit the gym later on his way to the bar, but he's not planning on helping his wife out with dinner. He's not really planning on talking to her at all until he needs a blow job later tonight.

You mentioned his name was Brett, I think?

Well, Brett can barely hold a job. He's lucky you gave him a chance and got him a gig as a delivery man. I think he's been doing this for a month now, but he absolutely resents the work. Brett can't really enjoy anything unless he has a beer in his hand, and he absolutely hates wearing that stuffy little uniform.

Nevertheless, he's been consistently showing up so far; probably because his wife is waking him up, washing his clothes, and feeding him breakfast. Brett essentially only uses her as a maid and sex toy!

It's a good thing I've got something planned for Brett today as he starts his delivery rounds. He doesn't notice me following as he grumpily carries a package out of his truck, and he doesn't have time to react when I reach out and grab the back of his head.

"You're not going to move," I command, sinking my fingers into the soft parts of his skull, "You're going to let me in."

A deep sigh blows out of Brett's mouth, and I know his willpower is gone. "I'm not going to move. I'll let you in..." he repeats numbly.

With permission, I shoot inside his mind, discovering much of what I expected. His thoughts revolve around meeting up with his bros after work. He hasn't genuinely cared to think about his wife in ages. His mind is just as simple and unlikeable as he is.

Good thing I'm here to change it!

"Brett, I'm changing your thoughts. You like that. You want me to rewrite you."

"You're..." he struggles to form words, "You're changing my thoughts. I like that. I want you to rewrite me..."

"Good," I grin maliciously.

Bringing my lips closer to his ear, I begin to fill his head with his new personality. He accepts all his new goals and dreams wholeheartedly. I imagine, you will like them. They're the ones you asked for...

Done for now, I pull out of his mind, whipping Brett back into consciousness! He gasps for air as he regains his senses, but then something overtakes him. He's taken off running down the street!

I follow behind, knowing exactly where he'll end up. I must say that I enjoy watching his thick ass jogging away in those tight brown shorts. He's a lot more muscular than I gave him credit for.

I'm sure his new husband will enjoy that body of his too.

Brett sprints several blocks and runs straight up to a house at the end of the street. It's the home of one of his football buddies. I think his name might be Axel or Alex or something. I'm not sure.

Anyways, Brett bangs on the door, panting like a dog. When the door is finally opened, he wastes no time. Brett pulls his bro in for the long passionate kiss he's been waiting for.

"Dude?" his friend mumbles as their lips part, "What are you doing?"

Little does he know that I already hypnotized him, too. He's going to accept everything Brett does like it's what he's wanted all along.

"Axel! Man, I love you!" Brett moans, pulling his football buddy in closer, "I want you to marry me. I'll quit my job and be your housewife. I'll be better at that! And you can boss me around and use me however you want, bro! I mean everything; cooking, cleaning, everything!"

"Woah, dude! That's a lot to take in," he hesitates, but already his mind is giving in, "But yeah. I like the sound of that. Being my wife means more than just cooking and cleaning though."

Brett looks at his new love earnestly. Meanwhile, Axel straightens up and crosses his arms to look rough.

"It means pleasure, whenever I want it and wherever I want it. It means you only get to watch the football games in between you serving me and my friends. By the way, they're just my friends now. Got it, dude?"

"Yeah," Brett whines, "Just let me start now!"

Axel smirks and pulls his new house husband into the house, giving him a possessive slap on the butt as they pass over the threshold.

"Alright, bitch. I'm gonna treat you just as bad as you did that old girl of yours."

"Who?" Brett asks out of genuine confusion, but he's already brushed off the comment and dropped to his knees.

"I don't know. Don't care either," Axel sneers, "Just get started. Haven't blown a load all day."

The faint sound of repetitive gagging echoes out of the house as the front door slams shut. It seems like my work here is done.

The football gang will enjoy having a very willing bro to take care of all their needs, and Brett will do it with a genuine smile on his face. That friend of yours is a free woman, so I suggest she find something fulfilling to do with her life. Brett may be trapped in another marriage, but she sure as hell isn't!

Hope you liked how I handled your problem!

[bodybahng]

the way you are

masterlist

word count: 1.1k

pairing: bang chan x gender neautral reader

warnings: insecure chan, pet names (baby, angel), curly haired reader

summary: chan finally gives in and lets you help him take care of his natural hair

a/n: i saw someone posting about this request and thought i’d give it a try <3 i have curly hair as well but i’m not the best at taking care of it so i’m sorry if i messed anything up ;–; anyway, i hope you guys enjoy it! :)

if you are a minor or an ageless blog and interact with my content, you will be blocked.

having curly hair was something chan always struggled with — he didn’t know how to style it or take proper care of it, always opting to have it straightened instead.

he barely even thought about wearing it natural until you came along. your hair was even curlier than his, having accepted your texture and keeping it as healthy as you could most of the time.

chan had been a bit hesitant the first time you brought up helping and teaching him to do the same, saying how it was too much work and it wasn’t worth the effort. but he couldn’t help but wonder if his insecurity could go away, if it was possible to get his hair to look as beautiful as yours.

“baby?” you called from your spot on the bed as you saw that he was just staring at himself in the mirror quietly. “everything okay?”

the biggest sigh left his lips, he knew you already had this discussion a few times, but he couldn’t keep things from you. “i’m just feeling weird about my appearance again. well, mainly just my hair.”

you placed the book you were reading on your nightstand and walked over to hug him from behind, eyes meeting his on the mirror.

“do you want me to take care of it for you?” you offered softly, lips pressing a faint kiss to his neck. “if you let me, at least you’ll know how you feel and if you’d like to start managing it better. how about that?”

maybe he was too tired to deny you after the long day he’d had at work or maybe he was finally opening up to the idea. either way, he found himself nodding, and a grin spread on your face.

“i swear it’ll be relaxing!” you promised, taking his hand in yours and bringing him to your shared bathroom. he watched with a small smile on his lips as you grabbed a few bottles from your hair care shelf, knowing exactly which products to use on him.

“so walk me through it?” he asked, now a little more excited to learn something new that could potentially make him feel better.

“firstly, since you haven’t showered yet, we’re gonna start with a hair oil. this will help to add moisture to your curls,” you explained, opening the cap and squeezing the right amount into your palm. “i’m gonna heat it up in my hands and apply evenly all over your hair.”

he nodded, body relaxing at the sweet smell of the product hitting his nose. he closed his eyes as you put it on his strands, completely taken over by tranquility.

“okay, it’s done!” you wash your hands with soap to get the excess off. “now we wait at least an hour.”

“what?” he asked confused.

“yeah, this is a pre-shower thing. we can eat dinner in the meantime and then i’ll continue after you wash it.”

“okay…” his hesitation was back, but he knew he couldn’t go back on his word.

after eating a full fancy meal of your favourite flavour of instant ramen, he went to shower as you tidied up the kitchen. chan had insisted on doing it with you, but you ushered him to the bathroom with a shake of your head.

you both got done at the same time, and he brought the products you had picked to the living room, placing them on the coffee table.

“hi, baby,” you greeted with a kiss. “you smell so good.”

“thank you, angel. can we watch watch something as you finish doing your magic?” his voice was filled with tiredness, the water doing wonders to relax his whole body as the evening grew darker.

“of course,” you replied, smiling as he sat down in front of the couch and patted the cushion behind him for you to sit on.

you grabbed a microfibre towel on the linen closet and sat on the couch behind him, your legs open on either side of his body.

“always use a different towel for you hair, a microfibre one so it doesn’t create friction and make your hair all frizzy.” you softly patted his hair to dry it a little bit before grabbing another small bottle and collecting the product on your hand. “now i’m gonna apply a curl cream to add shine and define your curls.”

“mhm,” he hummed, attention focused on your words even if his eyes were on the movie he had put on.

“i’m gonna gently comb through your hair as well to detangle it, but it has to be done carefully because wet hair is more fragile.”

he nodded, sighing happily again when he felt your fingers working on his hair. it didn’t take long for you to finish, gently scrunching his hair a few times to help activate his curls.

“now, for the last step, i’ll put in a hair mask that helps keeps the moisture in, as well as contain the frizz we usually get. it also helps for your curls to not have that crunchy feeling to them, you know?”

“yeah, i remember when you told me to feel yours hair once when you forgot to do that.” he laughed, the memory making his dimples show as he turned his head slightly toward you.

“exactly.“ you chuckled, leaning in to give him a chaste kiss. then, you picked up the last item, finishing off his hair with it. “we’re done!”

chan got up to sit beside you, grinning as you unlocked your phone and clicked on the camera so he could admire your work.

“your hair is still humid, but i’m out of heat protection product so i won’t blow dry your hair right now. it’ll look fuller in a couple hours but you can already tell they’re looking gorgeous!” the smile never left your lips as your gaze switched from his hair to his image on the screen.

his heart tugged in his chest at you being the best partner he could ask for. he couldn’t believe he was starting to see how, with the correct treatment and attention, he would start at least liking his natural look a bit more. all because of you.

“i love you, baby. thank you so much,” he said, grabbing your neck and pulling in to kiss you properly. “i might grow to like it… if you keep helping me, of course.”

his smirk made you roll your eyes, feeling your heart speeding up with love even after months of dating.

“if it depends on me, you’ll never see a straightener ever again. i love you just the way you are, my channie.”

[amevello-blue]

Yo back up Donny tried to comfort Raph? This I gotta see

Yes but first of all you have to sit through my rant about this entire scene

They're all standing back to give Donny his space with Leo. They're all worried, hands clenched, tense, but Raph's the only one with his arms crossed over his chest. He's close off right now. They're sharing vulnerabilities, emotions. Raph is not. He doesn't want to. He doesn't want anything to show.

Raph scoffs and jokes "I think you got him hanging on your every word, Don." And Leo stirs. Casey's the one who comments on it, saying, "I think he heard you, Raphy."

Everyone looks kinda intent on this revelation, surprised, but determined. Raph genuinely looks surprised and stunned and almost dare I say frightened? Some of that emotion is leaking through.

Then Mikey does his story, and Raph is... less than impressed. His arms are crossed over his chest again, he's scoffing, he's insulting Leo, saying he's not waking up because he's afraid.

He gets upset. "He got his butt whooped, and now he's too chicken to come back and face it!"

Mikey looks worried, upset, but Donny gets this moment of... Realization. He knows what Raph's doing. He knows Raph's going to say things he doesn't mean. He knows Raph.

Donny says, "that's enough, Raph." He doesn't scold him, or get mad at him about it. Just. Set his hand on his shoulder and says that's enough. That's enough getting angry at Leo when we all know that it's not Leo you're angry at.

Raph's trying really hard. He turns away from Donny. He's squeezing his eyes shut. He's trying not to cry. This is the comforting part I mean.

He shakes Don's hand off, which surprises Donny. Implying this method has worked to calm Raph down before.

"Well I say who needs ya? It's not like we can't get on without you playing fearless leader." Interestingly when Raph says that they'd be fine without him, it focuses on Leo, who is bruised and unconscious and spent hours in the rain trying to escape the Foot because he couldn't bring them back to April's. He knew he couldn't bring them back to April's. He could have gotten help there, but that would risk putting his family in danger.

Then, when you see Raph again...

He's crying. And Donny's shock has turned to genuine concern for Raph.

And he turns away from Donny more, and Donny's expression softens from concern to understanding. The fact that this scene is set up like this, where Raph is crying and Donny is the one watching him in the background, it hits me a certain way. Donny doesn't cry. Not after Kirby, not after Honeycutt, not when he realizes that he's going to have to kill his entire family to stop the Shredder. (In Exodus and in SAINW.) But Raph's here, crying, at their first big defeat. One of them has been defeated, broken, and only lived because their enemy was playing with him like a cat toy.

And Donny is RIGHT THERE.

Anyway, Raph tells the story of how he accepted Leo's leadership when they were kids, that strongest and bravest do not necessarily make for the best leader who makes the best decisions for the team.

And he's struggling again. "I don't even know why I told you that story. I guess I just... What I'm tryin to say is..." And he can't finish his sentence. He just trails off he clutches at his head, his face, he can't look at anyone, can't let them see the expression he's making.

And Leo, who has only reacted to Raph's voice this entire time, is only shown to be reacting to Raph's voice, stirs again.

Splinter reassures him this time. "Your brother hears you, Raphael. He understands."

And Raph, he doesn't say anything. He just. Goes to the window. And imo is processing the fact that he knows they can't survive without Leo. They need their fearless leader (a nickname that Raph gave him in the first place.) That's what that story meant. They need Leo. Raph needs Leo.

anyway the whole scene makes me incredibly emotional. The farmhouse arc wasn't just a Leo arc, it was very much a Raph arc as well. It was learning his brother isn't fearless. Isn't invincible. Leo is breakable. Raph literally helps Leo put himself (and his swords) back together. And I don't think Raph would have ever realized that Leo needed that kind of help if this scene hadn't happened earlier.

Cause the thing is, Leo was afraid. He was terrified of coming back and facing that failure. Failure is SUCH a big part of his character, his fear of it, his fight against it, and Raph... Raph hit the nail on the head. But telling stories of the times Leo was strong, the times that his family has needed him, was what brought Leo back.

And I think Raph realized at that point that. Maybe Leo needs help sometimes. Maybe he isn't Mr Perfect Ninja Son. Maybe Raph can be the one to help.

[padfootagain]

The Car Trap

Hi!!!!! Here I am again, back to my old antics! Yes, I’m adding one more person to my masterlist. Yes, I am going to hell for this, and you know what? I’ll have such a great time!

Anyway, no one asked for this, except for me, as I was desperate for some Hozier fics, and couldn’t find any new ones anymore! So, here we go! Hope you like this, let me know what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, angst to fluff! Friends to lovers, snowed-in… in a car… *hihihihihihhi!!!*

Summary: You're offered a job in Switzerland, and you're ready to accept it. It would offer you a new beginning, a way to forget about the love you have for your best friend. But a trip through a snowstorm with Andrew might change everything...

Word Count: 7282

Hozier’s Masterlist - Main Masterlist

This trip was a disaster.

A fucking, outrageously terrible disaster…

The weather was terrible, for a start. And that was a statement made with an Irish reference, which was saying a lot. It had been raining so hard you had to stop the car for a while as you could not see the road ahead at all. Then it was time for so much wind that your fingers were cramping over the strength used to hold the wheel. Four hours later, it was getting dark, the sun already setting and the sky heavy with clouds that blocked all sunlight. And it was snowing.

Fucking snowing.

Great. Wonderful. Lovely.

Oh, but if only the problem was held by the capricious weather… no… no, this was but a part of the issue. You could even say that this was the top of the iceberg, just a tiny fraction of the shit you were buried under.

Because your phone had died. But then again, you had no signal anyway to get the help of a friendly and absolutely annoying GPS; and in the passenger seat by your side, your best friend was struggling with a fifteen-year old map that was so out-of-date that it might as well have not existed for the help it got you…

You were lost. You were fucking lost, in the middle of nowhere, while it was getting dark and snowing and there was nothing manmade in sight to ask for help.

Wonderful. Truly, wonderful.

Oh, and that was without mentioning that the best friend in question was also the man you had been in love with for years but had never dared confess your feelings to.

Outrageously bad, that road trip, really…

Andrew picked up his phone to get some more light, his glasses perched haphazardly on his nose as he tried to decipher names printed on the large map splayed across his laps; hair held back in a low bun, allowing you to see his focused features.

“So?”

He merely hummed in response, a long finger following a dark line.

“Do you have any idea where we are?” you insisted.

“None whatsoever,” he shook his head.

He sat back in his seat, before rubbing his eyes.

“I mean… we’ll end up crossing a village at one point if we keep going along this road,” he sighed. “I don’t have a better plan for now.”

“We might have to stop at one point, though. The snow is getting heavy.”

“I had never envisioned dying from the cold in the middle of nowhere on some random Irish road…” Andrew joked, his tone almost contemplative, and you couldn’t refrain a chuckle.

“And with you! Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m dying with you, of all people.”

“Why not? You don’t want to see me dying?”

“I don’t want my last moments to be shared with someone as annoying as you.”

He tried to throw back some witty remark, but his laughter was too much to handle.

He had pushed back the seat as far as possible, of course, in an attempt to accommodate his long limbs, but even in this position, his legs were not fully extended before him, his knees hitting the dashboard at every bump of the road.

You forced your gaze to go back to the road again, squinting your eyes to see through the heavy snow that fell now, instead of lingering on his legs.

God… you were so damn ridiculous…

His quiet rumble of a laugh finally died out, but a smile remained set on his features, even though his tone was serious as he spoke again.

“We can still turn the engines on every once in a while to get some heat.”

“Won’t that drain the battery or something?”

“If we don’t do it too much, it should be fine. Besides, it’s not minus twenty outside, relax. We’ll be fine.”

You merely nodded, falling, as always, for the safety in his quiet voice and the warmth of his tone.

Besides, it was easier to believe in the certainty of his voice, in its soothing sound, than to face the snow falling more and more heavily outside, the night creeping over the distant mountains, right beyond the green fields. Their silhouettes were almost made invisible now by the low light, you could only guess their shadows. Despite the headlights, you could barely make out the stony walls on each side of the road, mostly devoured by ivy and thickets. You had slowed down your pace, driving slowly in fear that a wild animal would suddenly jump in front the car, or that you would miss a random house set by the road.

It was also easier to focus on the silly story he was using to quieten your mind rather than to mention the reason behind this trip across the countryside.

You were leaving.

You were leaving Ireland to settle in Switzerland for a job. Or well, nothing was fixed for now, but you had an amazing opportunity. A first trip to the country to meet your future boss in person was planned for the following week, and at the end of these three days spent in Geneva, you had to sign your contract. You would then have about a month to find a place and move there.

So, you and your best friend had decided to enjoy a little road trip together. Driving all the way to the other side of the country. Staying at an Airbnb near the western coast. Enjoying four days together spent by the sea, the cliffs, and an awful lot of chips and beer.

You had been puzzled by Andrew’s reaction when you told him about your new job. He had seemed… unphased by it.

Of course, with his career, he was often away, and you were used not to live close to each other for long periods of time. Still, you were always one of the first people he visited whenever he was home. And while he stayed in Ireland, you spent most of your time together. As if he wanted to soak in as many moments as he could before he would leave again. And yet, when you told him that you would move to another country, he didn’t even blink. He gave you a smile, congratulated you, offered you a warm hug, and that was it. He asked about the job, about the place where you would live… and that was it. No disappointment in the thought of you leaving. No sadness at the thought of not having you around. No heartbreak whatsoever…

But then again, you were a fool for hoping that he would feel this way. Because he was… Andrew. Absolutely-lovely, amazing-hair, siren-voiced, hilariously-witty, unbearably-gentle Andrew. You had been friendzoned a few weeks after your first encounter, and you had no reason to believe that his feelings had changed. Actually, this new job, you took it as an opportunity to forget him. Move on. And not only because many miles would separate your homes, but because you weren’t leaving on your own.

Another one of your colleagues, Tom, had been approached by the same company as you had. He had already accepted the offer, and he was thrilled when he learned that you were leaving for Geneva as well. You knew he had a crush on you. He was pretty obvious about it. If he had never crossed a line, it was clear that he wanted you to give him a chance. And who knew? Perhaps this new beginning, with another man that you quite frankly found great, could mean you finally moving on from your stupid crush on your best friend. A new start, in another country. After spending a few weeks getting used to this new place, this new corporation, this new workplace… perhaps you would give Tom a chance. You desperately needed to forget Andrew, after all…

Of course, you didn’t know that you were completely, utterly wrong… about everything. That Andrew wanted to cry at the mere thought of you leaving. That he held you too tight and for too long that afternoon when, bathed in the neon light of your kitchen, you told him you were moving so far away from him, because he didn’t want you to see the tears in his eyes. He didn’t have the right to hold you back. He was but a friend to you, and friends needed to be supportive, and this was such a great opportunity for you, and… and he was only your friend.

Only your goddamn friend. As if Andrew hadn’t longed to be much more than that after a mere week spent in your company. But you had met before he would leave, touring for his second album, the timing was all wrong. He couldn’t ask you out for a couple of dates just to get you attached to him, before he would disappear for months on the other side of the planet. That wasn’t fair. He wanted to do things the right way. So, he kept his distance at first, unwilling to get too attached himself. But then, when he came home months later… you weren’t single anymore.

The fool… he had lost his chance. And over the years, the two of you had built such a great friendship that he didn’t want to take the risk anymore. Besides, he was certain that you didn’t see him this way. You had been in relationships, he had been in relationships… you had never showed any sign that would make him feel that he was more than a friend to you. Even when he tried to get you jealous, at the beginning, right after your break-up… but it didn’t work. The lure fell into the water in a deafening defeat, and he had made up both his mind and heart. You weren’t interested. He didn’t blame you. With his chaotic lifestyle.. who in their mind would settle for that?

Did it stop Andrew from still being in love with you, even after all this time? No, of course it did not. And the thought that you wouldn’t be home with him anymore…

He looked away, through the window, just to hide the tears that rose to his eyes all over again. He rested his elbow against the cold window, his lips to the back of his hand, biting lightly in the skin to calm down. He had no right to try to hold you back… no right at all… Was it your fault if he was enough of a fool to fall for his best friend? The cliché was almost too much to bear…

When he turned to you again, though, he couldn’t help the warm, fond feeling that invaded his chest at the sight of you. During the moment of silence you were both bathing into, disturbed solely by the wind and the tires over the frozen road, the night had almost conquered the last remnants of sunlight that lingered there, held against the eastern riff of the mountains. The headlights and the dim lights coming from the headboard were enough for him to see your features, though. They were enough for him to long to brush that strand of hair behind your ear, to lean across the car to kiss your cheek, to feel the warmth of your skin, even if for just a second, against his lips…

God, he didn’t want you to leave. What would he do if you left? When would you see each other? Never… If he spent so much time touring and you weren’t home…

God, he would move to Geneva with you if you asked. Even if it were to keep him as a mere friend, that was how badly he needed you in his life…

“Andy… I’m not sure I should keep driving…”

Andrew shook himself out of his thoughts, forced his attention back to the road ahead. You could barely see the road at all, as it was slowly turning white, just like the patches of grass between the road and the low walls…

Andrew shook his head.

“We can’t just stop in the middle of the road either. Just… drive slowly. Let’s try to find somewhere to park.”

You nodded, frowning in your focus.

You kept on driving for a while longer. The night was stark black when you finally found a small space by the road where you could safely park. There was still no house in sight, though… not that you could have seen anything beyond a five meters radius anyway…

You turned off the engine, let the lights go dark. Andrew turned on the light of his phone again.

“You should save some battery,” you argued.

“Got plenty, don’t worry.”

“So… now, what?”

“Now, we wait.”

“And if it keeps on snowing all night? Should we try to get some sleep?”

He merely nodded, setting his phone between the two of you to shed some light all over the tiny space of your car. Andrew reached behind him to get your coats from the backseat.

“We should put these on while they’re still warm.”

You didn’t complain when Andrew unfolded your warm coat, holding it up so you could easily slip your arms inside; nor did you stop him when he straightened it around your frame, reached for the zipper, and closed it for you.

And perhaps it would have been wiser for you to do so… but then again, you were human.

You were still trying to regulate your heartbeat while Andrew was putting on his own coat.

And for the first half-hour, everything was easy. You turned the engines back on for a few minutes when it got too cold, but in such a weather, you were worried your car wouldn’t start with a low battery. After all, it wasn’t exactly brand new.

“What if we get stuck in here?” you asked, worrying about the snow that didn’t give any sign of stopping.

“We’ll freeze to death, probably. At least the cold will preserve our bodies.”

“Good news for the police officer who’s gonna open the door. The smell won’t be too bad.”

“Exactly.”

“How long do you think before they find us?”

“Oh… at least a few weeks, if it snows enough.”

“Don’t you think anyone would notice a car covered in snow by the side of the road?”

“Not if there’s enough snow on it.”

You were the first to break, unable to be serious any longer. And Andrew’s laugh soon found yours, a deep rumble shaking the air around you.

“We won’t get fully snowed in,” Andrew reassured you as your laughter receded, in favour of the hushed quiet of winter. “Don’t worry. Besides, we’re not going to stay here all night. We’ll just wait until the worst of the storm passes. I can drive the rest of the way, if you want.”

“I can keep driving. I think I’ll try to take a nap while we wait though. I need to focus.”

Andrew merely nodded as an answer, adding a soft humming for good measure, before he would offer you a warm smile. He reached for something in his pocket, and put on a beanie and some gloves.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” he added, shifting to get more comfortable, the seatbelt since long discarded.

You tried to do the same, sliding the seat back to get more room to move around. Your eyes settled on Andrew’s features one more time before they closed.

But there was no way you could fall asleep. Beside your troubled mind, you were getting uncomfortably cold again. Enough for your teeth to chatter for a moment, until you tightly set your jaw.

You felt warm skin brush the back of your freezing fingers, heard the low, unapproving humming that Andrew let out at the touch.

“Take these, Y/N.”

You blinked your eyes open, while Andrew was already pushing a glove into your palm.

“You’ll be cold,” you argued, but you were met with a fond glare.

“You are cold.”

You gave up, took the gloves he offered. So large around your hands, the wool soft and still holding the warmth born from his own skin. You tried to stop him from planting his beanie on your head too, but failed.

“You need to stay warm! You’re a singer! You can’t catch a cold!” you tried to argue, but Andrew was already pulling the wool down to cover your ears.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m just fine. Besides, you’re the one who’s always cold.”

“Am not!”

“Are too! Who wears a woollen scarf in June?”

“It was cold!”

“You could turn into an ice cube if left unattended.”

With a great sense of maturity, you stuck out the tip of your tongue, making him chuckle.

It was better, but you were still cold, and so was Andrew now. He was shaking slightly, rubbing his hands together, burying his mouth and nose in his woollen grey scarf to warm it with his breath. But when he tried to shed some light outside again, the snow was still too heavy to drive safely.

“I can’t feel my fucking toes,” he complained, but there wasn’t much that you could do.

Except that you could. It was stupid, probably ineffective, but you were too cold to think straight.

“What if we hugged?”

Andrew let out a laugh.

“I like the sentiment, but that would hardly warm my toes.”

“Isn’t sharing body warmth a surviving technique?”

“Do I look like I would survive in the wild?”

“No, you would either bump your head in a branch so hard you’d knock yourself out to fall right into an endless pit… or you would be spotted by lions from miles away, you and your long limbs…”

“Exactly.”

There was silence again, for a couple of minutes, and you didn’t dare to break it. Instead, you let your eyelids fall again. He had refused to hold you, it was speaking volumes. What if you had made him uncomfortable? What were you expecting anyway? You were just a friend…

A gentle tug on your sleeve made you look up at him.

“Come here.”

“What?”

“We’re both cold, come here. You’re right, body heat sounds like a good idea.”

You joked in an attempt to hide the way your heart jumped in your chest.

“We both know you simply like to be held. Even by me.”

“Anything if I can avoid losing my toes.”

You wished you could claim that the manoeuvre that led you to lie with Andrew was a graceful one, but it truly wasn’t. After bumping into every surface possible and hitting your head against the ceiling twice, you were, however, finally secured in Andrew’s arms.

You moved around a little, trying to get comfortable, but in the tiny space of the passenger seat, there was nowhere for you to lay but on top of him.

If your nerves were getting the better of you at first, you couldn’t help but unwind as Andrew wrapped his arms around your frame, engulfing you within his embrace, pressing you closer to him, even though it didn’t seem possible.

He closed his eyes as he breathed in the sweet scent of your shampoo, but you didn’t notice. You didn’t notice either the way his heart sped up under his ribs, the way his breath caught in his throat. You never seemed to notice. Andrew reckoned that he was pretty obvious, although he did try to hide it all, but you never noticed anything. He couldn’t hide it, though. Even if this would lead nowhere, even if he didn’t stand a chance, he couldn’t help it. Loving you. In all the years he had known you, he had never been able to help it. Perhaps that was what love was all about. Loving beyond reason. Loving even when he wished he didn’t. Loving, and hurting, and having no regrets about it. Hurting, and being willing to go through all this pain all over again, for just a moment more…

He heaved a sigh without noticing, his eyelids lifting to be faced by a wall of darkness spotted with white snowflakes. He was ridiculous. You were leaving, that was the final proof he needed to be certain that he was nothing but a friend to you. If you felt anything for him, you wouldn’t be leaving… right? He had not left. He could have moved to the US a thousand times over, but you were in Ireland. Of course, you weren’t the only reason for him to stay, but you were easily the most important one, the one that carried the most weight.

What was the point of going home after a tour or a long recording session, if home wasn’t where you were?

Pathetic. That was what he was, pathetic…

Besides, you deserved better than what he could offer. Waiting for him for months on end? A constant back-and-forth between nations, a life stuck in a suitcase? No… no, you deserved better than that. Better than what he could offer you. Better than him…

And you were leaving. Final proof…

He held you tighter, and almost released it all in a breath.

Don’t go. Please, don’t go…

“Andy?”

He merely hummed in response.

“I’m pretty sure this is doing nothing to keep us warm.”

“I think it helps.”

“We’re wearing too many clothes.”

“Are you offering a game of strip-poker or something?”

You didn’t look up at him, face still buried in his shoulder, and yet he knew you were rolling your eyes.

“I must be crushing you.”

“You’re breaking all my bones, indeed.”

You tried to move away, but his hold tightened, and he looked down at you with confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving your life? Avoiding you to be crushed to death?”

“I was joking. I’m alright.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s… nice.”

You weren’t sure what to make of such comment, so you remained quiet instead, breathing deeply his scent, feeling it numb your senses.

“I’ve never seen such a snowstorm,” he pointed out, gaze lost into the darkness ahead.

“Me neither.”

“Not in this part of the world, at least.”

“Typical of Ireland to send me the storm of the century as a farewell gift.”

You felt Andrew tensing under you, his voice was colder than usual as he spoke, but you weren’t sure what to make of it.

“When will you leave? For good, I mean.”

“I have a month after this short stay to find myself a place to rent and get to work.”

“But you’ll come back to visit, right?”

“Yeah, of course! I mean… when I’m on vacation. To see my family.”

“Will I get some free housing in Geneva, then?”

“You thief, as usual.”

“You know me. Always the rascal.”

You closed your eyes as he started to rub your back, the gesture gentle and amazingly soothing.

“Aren’t you afraid to go there on your own?”

“Yeah… yeah, a little bit,” you admitted in a breath. “But… at least Tom will be there.”

“Tom?”

“Yeah, you know? My colleague? He’s very nice, I like him a lot. We’re leaving together.”

His tall frame tensed again, you caught the way his breath staggered.

“What do you mean Tom is leaving too?”

You stared into his hazel eyes; these eyes you dreamt of at night, the ones you adored. They had taken the hue of leaves before Autumn, deep green in a ray of sunshine. They always did when tears came to his eyes. And indeed, you were surprised as you fell into his gaze to find it blurred with tears.

“You… you’re leaving with him?” he asked, voice deeper than usual, shaky, vulnerable.

You were aware, now more than ever, of how close you were. You stared up at him, lost in his eyes, and you thought of how it would be so easy to lean up and kiss him, make his frown melt away, shush his worry with your lips…

“I thought… why…?”

You shrugged, unsure of what he meant to say.

“We’ve been approached by the same company. We’ll both move to Geneva.”

“Together?!”

“I mean… at the same time, yes.”

“But you’re…”

So that was it then… you had found someone else again. And this time you were leaving in another country with this man and…

And Andrew had lost you for good.

He was only too aware of how close the two of you were, of how easy it would have been to simply lean down to kiss you. Press his lips to yours, forget you were choosing someone else…

But he couldn’t forget. He couldn’t take it.

Instead of leaning closer, he pushed you away.

“Get off.”

You frowned at the roughness in his voice, the coldness in his tone, and Andrew wished he could control himself, be gentle, the way you deserved, but he needed to get away if he wanted to keep breathing…

“Please, get off me.”

You blinked tears away, and he hated himself for being the cause of such a sight, but he didn’t stop you when you ungracefully pushed yourself back into the driver’s seat. And Andrew watched as you stared at him, expectant, like you didn’t understand that you were breaking his heart in a million pieces…

And he couldn’t take it.

You were so surprised when Andrew opened the door and climbed out of the car that you didn’t stop him. He was already out of sight when you shook yourself enough to grab his phone, the only source of light available, and jumped out of the car as well.

The wind was bitterly cold as it assailed your cheeks, the snow rough and sharp digging into your skin.

“ANDREW!”

You hurried around the car, struggling with the slippery ground.

Above the wind, there was nothing to be heard but your own voice. Betrayed by the night, even this sound seemed to fade too fast to reach anything out of your sight. And Andrew was nowhere to be seen, the darkness too thick for that, the elements howling too loudly.

“ANDREW!”

A thud. A groan. A hiss. You followed the sounds in a hurry, and sure enough, mere seconds were needed to find your friend half-lying in the snow, a hand gripping at the low stone wall.

“ANDY!”

You kneeled by his side, uncaring of the sharp sting of the frozen ground under your knees.

“Are you alright?”

But he nodded, without a word. He seemed in pain, you brushed a loose strand of his hair behind his ear, and he leaned into your touch without noticing.

“You’re okay? What the fuck are you doing?!”

“You’re leaving for him, right?”

“What on earth are you talking about?!”

“TOM! FUCKING TOM!”

He moved away from your touch, but winced as he leaned against the wall. Your eyes grew round in worry, and when you turned the light towards the stones, there were traces of blood there.

“Oh God… Andy, you’re hurt!”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head.

“Let me see…”

But he stood up instead, and you followed close. He was towering you, the way he always did. The difference in height had not been so obvious in the car, but now, he was standing before you in his full, impressive height, and the way he glared made it more intimidating than usual.

“You’re really leaving for a fucking guy you met at work?!”

You frowned, shaking your head.

“Andy, I’m not…”

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

“Andy…”

“For how long have you two even been together?”

“We’re not! We’re not together.”

It was his time to frown in confusion.

“What?”

“Tom and I, we’re not together. We’ve been approached by the same company, that’s all. Although, if I’m being honest… I might give him a chance.”

“What?”

You noticed how he was out of breath, of course you did. He didn’t seem angry anymore, just…sad. Unbearably sad…

“Well, he’s nice… and… I know he likes me. But… can we go back to the car now?”

“Don’t go with him.”

You stared up at him, his hair messed by the wind as more strands were breaking free from his bun. Snowflakes stained the dark locks with white. Some got caught in his long eyelashes. The biting cold was turning his sharp cheekbones red. In the dim light, you couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, even though you could see the lips moving with the vowels, closing with consonants…

“Don’t go. Y/N… don’t go.”

These were words you were longing to hear, and yet, now that he was finally speaking them out loud, you couldn’t take them in.

He had acted like he didn’t care for weeks, and now, all of a sudden, he claimed that he was hurting?

“That’s rich coming from someone who spends barely any time home.”

You knew you were being mean, and you felt guilty as a shock of pain ran through Andrew’s features, enough so to bring tears back in his eyes. Still, you didn’t take your words back.

“That’s not the same. This… this is still my home.”

“This is a great opportunity for my career. This would be a new start. I’m excited about it. And Tom is nice. He likes me. He wants me…”

“You’re saying that like you don’t have a family and friends and people who love you already.”

“You know what I mean. This is a great opportunity, Andy. I want to take it.”

You noticed the way he clenched his jaw, the way the muscle jumped there as he lowered his gaze to the ground, nodding slowly.

“You’re right… that’s a great opportunity. You should take it…”

But instead of you agreeing, he was surprised as you huffed in annoyance, and turned your back to him.

“Get your arse back in the car, come on.”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t understand what you want, Andy!” you hissed as you turned back to him, and he hated the sharpness in your voice, it felt like a knife. “You act like you don’t give two fucks about me leaving for weeks! And now… now you’re acting like you want me to stay…!”

“Of course, I want you to stay! But I’m your friend, I’m supposed to be here for you, and to support you and encourage you…”

“So you’re glad that I’m leaving?” your voice rising into a shout, and his tone matched yours when he answered, making you tremble under his deep, powerful voice.

“Of course not! Are you listening to yourself?! Why would I want you to move to fucking Geneva!”

“Because you didn’t say a thing about it!” you were crying, but you didn’t even notice, too busy letting your feelings out, at long last. “Because everyone else tried to convince me to stay, and you didn’t!”

“I tried to be supportive!”

“Well, I didn’t want you to supportive!”

“What did you want then?!”

“The truth!”

“Well, I don’t want you to leave! Here’s your fucking truth! And I don’t want you to leave with fucking Tom! I want you to choose me!”

He was out of breath now, and as he moved closer to you and the light you still held tightly in your hand, you finally noticed that he was crying as well.

“Choose you?” you asked, confused and slightly calmer, even if your voice kept on shaking. “Why would you want me to choose you…?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

The words were out before he could hold them in; failing this time at this game he had played a thousand times before, every time the words almost slipped out, when he bit his tongue until it hurt so you wouldn’t hear his heart. Your eyes grew round like you were surprised, shocked even, like this was not the most obvious truth in the world, like he had not spent years loving you in secret, leaving traces of his bleeding heart all over the place…

He almost wanted to laugh at you, at your round eyes and parted lips and all that snow caught in your hair and the way he longed to kiss that shock off your face. He didn’t though. Because you took a step back, and he read fear in your eyes, and he realised then that you were slipping away, sand between his fingers although he tried to hold tight.

“Y/N…” he breathed, voice taken away by the wind before it could reach you.

You hurried to the car instead of answering, and he followed you this time, shivering in the cold. And once you were back in the safety of your vehicle, the seats had lost their warmth, and the tiny space between the two of you seemed unbearably vast, a chasm you would never be able to close or cross.

You were both staring out by the windshield, while the snow finally receded. You could start driving again…

“Can you say something?”

“We should try to drive again.”

“Y/N… please…”

But as you turned to him, it was to stare at his palm, not his gaze.

“You’re bleeding.”

Andrew followed your gaze, looked down at his own hand. There was a long cut across the palm, red with blood, darkened with dirt on some spots. In the dim light, it was hard to tell how deep the cut was. It hurt, that was for sure. And yet, he didn’t care. You were more painful than an open wound.

“It’s nothing…”

“Let me see.”

You took off the gloves he had lent you, and Andrew didn’t have the strength to stop you as you gently reached for his hand, cradled it in yours, held it to the light to get a better view. Your skin was warm and soft against his cold one, and the thought that you could hate him, that you could resent him for sharing feelings he knew as unrequited made the tenderness of your hold almost unbearable.

“How did you hurt yourself?”

“I slipped in the snow. Caught myself to the wall. Sharp stone.”

You heaved a sigh, the sound was almost annoyed, but not quite. More like… worried.

“Hold the light, would you?”

He didn’t think as he obeyed, yielding to your will, the way he always did. You grabbed a bottle of water and some tissues from the glove box, and started to slowly clean up his cut. You were leaning closer to do so, and Andrew couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward as well, longing for your nearness, basking in the touch of your hand as it came back to cradle his, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

The breath he let out before speaking again was shaking.

“Do you hate me?”

You looked up, seemed to realize how close the two of you were. You could easily lean up and kiss him, and he could easily lean down and press his lips to yours. Instead, you both remained motionless, perfectly still, merely staring while he waited for an answer you thought was too obvious to be spoken.

“Why would I?” you asked back.

“Because… because we’re friends. And I caught feelings. And… maybe you hate me now that you know that I don’t… I don’t see a friend in you at all. Now that you know that I lied.”

But you didn’t answer, instead, you lowered your gaze again, and Andrew jumped and let out a hiss as you pressed the wet tissues against his broken skin.

“I’m not angry,” you finally reassured him. “I’m just… I don’t really believe you, I think.”

“What? Why wouldn’t you?”

You shrugged, and despite your claim of being calm, the smile that formed on your lips was bitter when you spoke.

“For how long have we been friends? And you’ve never said anything? Never felt anything, until I decided to go away? And now, all of sudden, you’re catching feelings?”

“I’ve never said these feelings were new.”

“You friendzoned me, back in the days. Do you remember that?”

Andrew winced, but nodded anyway.

“This… this was different.”

“Because I was just a friend?”

“Because I was the one leaving. Because it wasn’t fair to ask you out just to disappear for months while I was touring.”

Finally, you looked up again, trying to read something in his eyes, and whatever it was, Andrew hoped that you would find it there. He hoped you could see that he was being earnest, that he meant it, that there was no doubt to have. He had never doubted his love for you, even if he had refrained it. It had been a truth he had relied on for years. With a bit of luck, you might want to rely on it too…

“But then you came back… why didn’t you say anything then?”

“You weren’t single anymore. It was my turn to get friendzoned.”

The ghost of a smile formed on his lips, a soothing offering. But it was sad all the same.

“And after that?”

“After that… you were already my best friend. You… I didn’t want to lose you. And you… you deserved better than that. You deserve better than what I can give you. Waiting around while I disappear for months, what kind of life is that?”

You stopped breathing as he lifted his unharmed hand up to your face, brushing his fingertips across your cheek, the way he had longed to for years.

If his heart was staggering behind his ribs, if his breath was caught in his throat because of this gentle touch of your skin, when he closed his eyes to gather his strength, there was a tear breaking free.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you don’t feel the same,” he shook his head as he opened his eyes again, falling into your gaze, and he saw there the same tears he tried to withhold in his own eyes. “I know it’s a one-sided thing. I didn’t… I didn’t want to break everything. I’m sorry.”

He was surprised when you shook your head and leaned into his touch, forcing his hand to open so he could cradle your face in his palm, long fingers disappearing into your hair and tenderly brushing your skin.

“God, you’re such an idiot.”

He raised a surprised eyebrow, not daring to move or reply. You started laughing, and he was at a loss.

“We’re both so damn stupid!”

He had to blink to make sure that he wasn’t imagining your movement as you slowly closed the gap between the two of you, as you leaned up to meet him. He was too surprised by it to meet you halfway; he was too taken aback by the feeling of your lips against his to kiss you back. It took him a couple of seconds to process that this was truly happening, that he was not, in fact, lost in one of the many dreams he’d had of this moment. But then your hand was in the mess of his curls, and you were pressing your lips more firmly against his, and he allowed himself to believe that you wanted this as well, that perhaps he had been, indeed, such an idiot for failing to see what was right in front of him, the same way you had missed all of his gestures along the years.

And you wished you could admit to yourself that you were keeping control over the situation, having instigated the kiss, but you melted into his touch the second Andrew responded and kissed you back. His hold on your face tightened slightly, a tinge of desperation held in the gesture. You tightened your hold on his wounded hand, and he responded by twisting his wrist until he could hold onto your hand too. You chased after him as he pulled away, but he left only for a second, just long enough to tilt his head slightly to the side, bettering the angle of his next kiss so he could deepen it. And the second you could properly taste him on your tongue, you lost track of everything but him: the warmth of his scent, the softness of his touch, the smoothness of his skin, his curls running through your fingers, the gentle scratching of his beard, and the overwhelming feeling of being kissed by him. The feelings he poured into the intimate gesture… no one had ever kissed you like that before…

When you broke apart, at long last, both of you breathless, blinking the dizziness of the kiss away in an attempt to find back an earthly footing, Andrew pressed his forehead to yours, afraid, perhaps, that if he got too far, he would wake.

“I don’t see you as a mere friend either, in case that was still unclear,” you clarified, tone half-joking, making him smile.

“Right…”

“You’re okay?”

“Just… trying to assess whether I’m awake or dreaming right now.”

Playfully, you pinched his shoulder, making both of you laugh.

“Awake,” you confirmed. “Even your wild imagination could not have pictured the storm of the century as a background for our first kiss.”

“First? Can I have another, then?”

You couldn’t refrain a giggle, gently shaking your head at him, brushing your nose against his in the process.

“A true thief, as always.”

“Of the worst kind only.”

His thumb caressed your cheekbone, soft touch across your soft skin, making your eyes flutter shut as your heart lost its rhythm.

“If you want to take this job in Geneva, we can still make it work.”

You lifted your eyelids again and pulled back, just to fall right into his hazel eyes.

“Just… don’t choose Tom…”

You shook your head, giving him a reassuring smile. Your hands moved to hold his face in both of your palms, to make sure he would keep staring at you as you answered.

“Fuck Tom. Fuck Geneva. I’d rather go on a date with you.”

Andrew let out a chuckle, eyes crinkling as he smiled. Still, he had tears in his eyes all over again.

“You said it yourself, though. It’s a great opportunity for you.”

“I want to stay. If we give this a try, I want to stay.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m sure.”

“I’ll be away for months…”

“And you’ll be the one paying for the plane tickets, I’m not emptying my bank account when I’ve got a millionaire as a boyfriend.”

You both laughed, and Andrew nodded, at last.

“Fair enough.”

You were about to speak but didn’t have the time, Andrew was leaning to kiss you again instead, and you couldn’t complain, didn’t want to stop his fall towards your mouth.

He hissed and pulled away too fast though, after mere seconds, looking down at his wounded palm that he had tried to press against your back.

“I should clean this up, and then we can keep on driving,” you proposed, and Andrew agreed with a nod, obediently holding his hand still while you took care of him. He did lean to kiss your forehead a couple of times though, and you were both still quite amazed that he could do it, or that he wanted to.

You would have to get used to it though. After the storm had passed, after you had found your way back onto the right road, after you had reached your destination, there was plenty of time to talk, to confess feelings you had both refrained for too long, for holding onto each other too tightly, for kissing until lips were bruised and numb and yet still willing.

Perhaps, this trip was not such a disaster, after all…

[obsessedwrhys]

Hey so how do you think rise donnie would deal with a magical crush who is very chill with his tech and magic ramblings. He is in the room when April asks magival crush “is he bothering you? He can be a bit insufferable sometimes. He can’t just let things go and just accept magic as is”. And crush is like “oh. I don’t mind it. I mean, everyone thought rainbows were magical. They still are, but now you know how they work. I kind of like watching his big head try and figure this stuff out”?

A LOVE BEYOND LOGIC

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ just lots of fluff and flirting (I went overboard with the flirting), reader does get hurt but it's just minor, used of (Y/N) but only once, I hope this is a good read ☹, reader is fem!!

ᯓ★

It was another normal Tuesday for everybody in the lair, like always, you found yourself sunk into the bean bag your best friend plus boyfriend, Donnie, personally installed in his lab just for you. Well how he manages to become your boyfriend is a different story.

It all happened so fast, you were both blabbered about magic and science and suddenly he's pouring his heart out for you. What's more surprising is that this ain't exactly your home realm. You're pretty lucky enough to have score yourself a bunch of friendly people willing to let you stay at their place, not to mention be fine with your whole magical fiesta.

Anyways, you were concentrating on the game in your phone until you hear Donnie let out a frustrated groan. Curious, you looked to see him struggling with what seemed to be his next hopeful project. It's just not looking too hopeful right now.

"You okay?" You asked and his gaze darts towards you. He waves his hand dismissively.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I must have gotten the formula wrong" He said and at the same time, he walked over to the other table to check on his notes. You put your phone away before getting up to approach him.

"Can I help?" You asked.

You then stood beside him, your eyes examining how his hands are placed at both sides of the notebook as he has his head focused at it in the middle. His brows were slightly furrowed from trying to figure out what went wrong. Even with the stress, you can't help but find the concentration on his face somehow making him appear more attractive.

"No... no... I wouldn't wanna trouble you with this burden..." He muttered almost like a whisper since his mind is already preoccupied with focusing.

"Watching you torture yourself with this is already a burden" You joked and he couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"You're right, I'll try my best to figure this out sooner" He shoots you a sweet smile before walking off to the table in the center that has his project on top.

"Maybe after this we can go exploring. You said you wanted to visit the museum right? If we're lucky enough, I can shut down the surveillance so we can go in undetected, it'll be like the place is ours" He said, putting on his safety goggles as he continues on his work. You couldn't help but feel all giddy inside just hearing him remember you telling him that a few days ago.

You clear your throat, calming yourself.

"That'd be awesome. I don't know if you know this but I can detect old magic in artifacts. Connecting with them makes me stronger" You grabbed an unfinished rubix cube from his shelf and began to play with it as you made yourself float. Even with your body levitating a few feet above him, he didn't mind but was more focused on the task at hand.

"Huh... is that why you're so eager to go? To make yourself more powerful?" He said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Not entirely, I did say I wanted to explore it with you" You said and just hearing you say that, he tried to bite back a smile, a sense of pride swelling up in his chest.

"Gaining power and spending time with me? You're awfully greedy. Are all magical beings like this from your realm?" He playfully teased and you couldn't help but let out a humoured scoff.

"Too bad it must just be me" You responded and it made him laugh to himself while shaking his head.

"What else should I be aware of about your powers?" He asks and you hummed as you thought it over.

"Well... my powers get crazy strong when I feel a strong emotion. Whether it be sad or anger. Somehow being overwhelmed can 'cause me to lose control" You said and it automatically caught his interest.

"Lose control?" He repeats while putting on gloves before using the angle grinder on the metal.

"Huh... I can understand why... the heightened emotions you feel can create a swirling vortex of energy that can overwhelm your conscious control, making it easily for you to lose any sense of control over yourself, it's almost inevitable" He asserted like he always does when he's invested with every new discovery about your magical abilities.

"Really? Are you saying that's a bad thing?" You raised an eyebrow as you finally landed beside him, at the same time Donnie stops using the angle grinder and puts it aside. He pulls over his goggles, letting it rest just above his head.

"Not exactly, there are other emotions that can also work... Magic is no different than science. There's always a different formula available to replace the other" He said, twisting some screws onto the machine and once he's done, he turns it on before stepping back to see it on and working.

"And maybe sometimes... different is better" He smiled, satisfied with his success. He then turn to look at you who seemed puzzled, in your hand holds the rubix cube you have yet to finish.

"I'm sort of getting it but what other emotions is there that doesn't involve me turning into a raging monster?"

"There is one... an emotion that makes you feel calm yet overwhelmed at the same time... but you'll have to fall"

"Fall?" You watch as he goes to the other side of the room to grab a handkerchief to wipe his face clean.

"Fall in love... can't be hard right?" He looks at you, his eyes warm like it'll be enough to melt you. The way he stares at you makes it seem as though you're the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. You blush as you let out an awkward chuckle.

"Love? Are you saying that because half of the movies we watch, the main character happens to win in the last minute against the bad guy because of the power of love?" You joked, trying to hide the fact that your heart is beating faster than it would.

"This is purely science. I don't recall any movies using that trope" He says and you couldn't help but tilt your head, your brows raised in disbelief.

"Beauty and the Beast"

"Hey he was cursed by a witch"

"Tangled"

"That was more about cutting her hair"

"Uh Hero? Frozen?!??! Every freaking Christmas movie ever created?!?!!" He stares at you, silent for a second and you can see from his face that he's thinking it over.

".... you had me at Frozen. Ah alright, you're missing the whole point of all of this" He approaches you and you can't help but try to at least avoid the effect he's having on you.

"What I'm trying to prove here is that maybe you can try focusing on that emotion. Maybe it can even save you out of a messy situation one day. Who knows?" He crosses his arms, a confident smirk on his face. You roll your eyes with a smile of your own.

"You and your science talk. I do appreciate it but sometimes it's a wonder you haven't talked my ear off" You joked and it makes him laugh once again.

"Oh please, my voice is not irritating, at least not compared to yours"

"Excuse me??"

Right as you finished talking, April enters. She stops in her tracks as she awkwardly shifts her focus from Donnie's face to yours. Sensing the clear look of annoyance on your face, she decides to step in between in whatever conversation you two are having.

"Hey now, I've been gone for only a few hours and you guys are already trying to tear each other down" She laughs half heartedly. Clearly sensing the shift of emotion in the atmosphere, Donnie shrugs as he chooses to walk back to his station.

"Oh well, and uh (Y/N), you should go with April. It's almost evening and you usually eats at this hour. I'll find you later" He says with his back turned to you. Not really caring much about it, you also shrug before turning the other way.

"I was gonna go eat anyways" You said but deep inside you could feel that flutter of emotion again. Without much complain, you decided to go to the kitchen to April, the rubix cube still in your hand.

You're seated at the chair and toying around with the cube that you failed to acknowledge the concern look on April's face. She hands you your plate of food before taking her seat beside you. It was when you both started eating that you finally notice. But before you can ask, she beats you to it.

"Are you okay? I saw your face back there and it seemed like you guys were arguing. Is Donnie bothering you again? I know how far he can go trying to experiment on you" She said and her words nearly caught you off guard. You're aware of her concern about your safety but you weren't sure she would be THIS concern. Especially directing it towards Donnie.

"Wait no we weren't arguing just now. He just said some stupid comeback at my joke. Besides, what makes you think he'd do that?" You asked and she turns to look at you as if your question was a dumb one.

"Um, hello? He's Donatello. The 'Magic is not a real thing' Donatello... Did you forget how he was trying to have you join his crazy experiments when you first got here??" She said and you couldn't help but laugh a bit from how unreal the situation you're in.

"Okay first of all, he doesn't hate magic. He's just amazed about it you know? It's like giving a baby their first taste of sweet candy"

"You're comparing him to a baby now?"

"It was just a metaphor"

"Fineeee!! But how is he okay with letting you hang around in his lab? Doesn't magic and science not work together?"

"Oof if that was the case then people would think that thunder and lightning was a sign of God's fury from above"

"Okaaay... you have a point but... why do you like hanging around in his lab? It doesn't seem to be your cup of tea" You look at her and you see a teasing grin on her face.

Oh boy.

"His lair is... quiet... it's comforting"

"Ah yes... the sound of him drilling for hours is very relaxing. Not to mention the loud noises of his hammer! Wh-What a paradise!!" She says while ending up laughing at her own sarcasm. You let out a defeafed sigh.

"Okay maybe I happen to enjoy watching him work. It's exciting!! Do you see the way he puts things together?" You said with pride that you failed to notice the smile on your face.

"Uh huh" She looks at you and its clear that she doesn't buy it one bit.

Minutes later after you both are done eating and chatting about your everyday lives, you found your way back into the lab.

As expected, you found Donnie in his chair and seemingly working on his next project. Seeing how busy he looks, you decided to just go back to your place on the bean bag... but the sound of your footsteps caught his attention. His eyes slightly perked up as he swung around in his chair to look at you.

"You're back so quick...?" He said, his tone coming off surprised.

"Yeah... why? Do you need some alone time?" You took a step back and he quickly got to his feet like he's trying to stop you.

"That's not what I meant... uh I need to ask you an offer" He then leaned his back against the table and from the way his eyes is struggling to maintain eye contact with you, you could tell it wasn't anything good.

"Do you mind if you could used your powers to give my machine a boost? I need to make sure if it's resistant from getting fried easily" He looks at you, his gaze making him appear hopeful that you'll be fine with that... and honestly why wouldn't you be?

"Sure, just tell me how much is too much" You walk over to the machine displayed on the center and he mirrors your action. You stand side by side as you gently place your hand on top of the core.

"How about we start with something small and we'll work our way up from there?" He suggests which you nodded in agreement.

Just like that, you activated your powers and at the same time made sure you weren't using too much of it. In relief the machine didn't blow up but was running just fine. Almost at the same time, You and Donnie exchanged thankful smiles when turning to look at one another. With the first stage cleared, you decided to up the heat a bit.

"ZZZzzzz" The machine buzzes a bit from the increased intensity of your powers but surprisingly it's still intact and working right.

"Alright... moment of truth..." You grit your teeth anxiously... then activated the full force of your powers.

⌁KRRRRK⌁

Almost like a flash, you could feel surges of electricity coursing through your vines so due to your instincts you quickly pulled your hand away cause of the pain. And for the machine it was now overloading but somehow still functioning. Before you could even do anything, Donnie is already by your side with a med kit in hand.

"Are you okay? I know you're an enhanced being but still that must have hurt" He places the kit on the table and opened it to take out anything you needed.

"Just a small wound" You said, showing him the tiny burn on your pinky. Instantly he's already treating it with the petroleum jelly.

You don't say anything but choose to watch him tend to your minor injury. From his body language you could tell that he was very focused on not hurting you in the slightest. Soon after he wraps a clean bandage loosely around your pinky, he looks at you with a wave of warmth on his face. How he looks at you so softly is making your heart beat like it did not long ago.

"So... are you still up for our visit to the musuem?" He asks and you chuckle in disbelief.

"Seriously? You're not gonna even explain why you invented this thing in the first place? Not after my effort of helping you out?"

"Oh that? I wanted to surprise you but since you asked, this is gonna be our one way ticket to shutting the surveillance off. Just stick this bad boy into the breaker and the cameras are out" He picks it up and effortlessly puts it into the back of the truck, you follow him not far behind.

"You built all that just to spend one night with me at the musuem?" You tilt your head and he freezes in place, his back facing you as he stands at the back of the van.

"Uh... yeah... why not?" He rubs his neck awkwardly. From that you could tell that you've somehow made him flustered. You laugh and the sound of you laughing made him turn around out of curiosity.

"What are you laughing about?" He said despite the movements of his lips beginning to form a grin.

"Nothing nothing..." You look at him, a smile still present on your face but soon you show him your pinky, the same one he helped bandage it up for you.

"Kiss it to make it better?" You said with your hardest attempt of making puppy dog eyes. He shakes his slightly out of amusement.

"Only because you asked" He takes a few steps forward and carefully holds your arm by the wrist before guiding it towards his lips. He kisses it delicately and while he does so, his eyes are remained locked on yours. The intensity of his gaze made you blush that you couldn't help but look away.

"There... is my baby done whining now?" He said with his hands now intertwined with yours. You roll your eyes as you let him pull you into his embrace.

"Yeah yeah... let's go to the musuem now smarty pants" He chuckles at your response with his arms wrapped securely around you, his fingers tracing gently down your spine.

"Should we watch a movie after we get back?"

"Frozen?"

"Perfect"

[heretherebedork]

It's all about how We Are intertwines romantic, platonic and familial love to form these friend groups and these brothers and just... all of it. The whole story. About being loved and loving and trusting and growing and they all play their roles in that, all of them.

We see friends support each other and joke around and we see friends push hard truthers and harder choices and we see parents that don't understand what they did wrong and parents who love their child with all their heart and support him fully and siblings who love each other but barely know how half the time and are just doing their best. And we see lovers who settle directly into their dynamic and others who struggle and people who grow with love.

We get to see Fang enter more and more into both his relationship with Tan and into his friendships with the others as well as growing into being Phum's older brother and starting to see and accept the cracks in his family and find love anyway, love he can trust, love that lets him rest and ask for what he wants, love that lets him not feel like a burden or like he has to fix something just to be loved.

We've gotten to see Q and Toey go from insecure and unsure to so absolutely certain that nothing can bother them, both of them open about their love and unafraid because the worst thing that happened already happened, already passed, and now they have each other. And we've seen how loving each other only makes their friendships stronger, only lets them smile more and gives them new confidence and joy.

We've watched Chain pine for Pun and Pun pine for Chain and the desperate way they love each other but want to stay friends more than than dare to risk on their romantic wishes, the smiles and the softness and the brilliant eyes and it makes sense, to see their friendship so strong and their fears of what love might do, asking for cupid to show them a sign and both of them too far gone on the other to realize what's right in front of them because their platonic friendship is just as important as their romantic feelings.

We've watched Phum grow into himself with his friends and his love for Peem, watched him realize that he can be loved and he can be comforted and he can matter and he does matter and deserves to be love and deserved to be important and deserves to smile and all the while we've watched Peem wrestle with his own tendencies towards putting other people before himself but also learning that he can love and comfort people and bring them joy and having all his friends ready to defend him and ready to cheer him up but also trusting him, his friends knowing that he can find his own way in the world.

It's about all of them, all their loves, all their joys, all their ups and down, this whole little group of idiots and geniuses and love, love, love.

[star-writez]

Jax x depressed gn angst to fluff

(This oneshot was requested by a user on wattpad so if you want to let yourself be known)

(Anyways enjoy!)

~2nd person pov~

Jax has always had a crush on you and it was quite obvious to everyone

Well...Accept you of course

You were the only person he was actually somewhat nice to you

Yes he still teased you a little here but he was still super friendly to you

You two were best friends and you two were basically inseparable

But lately it's been different

You started staying in your room more and you started acting more hopeless and empty on the inside

Which was weird cause you always were full of happiness and hope for life even when it got rough

Jax was quite cornered by this point

It's already been a week since you started acting like this

So jax decided to finally do something about this

Jax was walking down the hallway looking for your room

He had only been to your room a few times but he couldn't really remember that much about it

Jax continued to walk picking up his pace getting more worried

It was weird for jax to act like this most of the time jax acted like a jerk but he was actually...acting sort of nice?

After he finally found your door he pulled out a key

He had keys to everyones rooms which was actually a good thing in this instance

Jax finally unlocked your door quickly running into your room

"Hey y/n are you in here?" jax asked quickly looking around trying to find you

Starting to get a little cornered again

But after a few seconds you came out from under your blanket

"Hey...." you said looking very miserable and a total mess

"Oh my god y/n you look like a total mess!" jax exclaimed still seeming very cornered "are you actually concerned about me?" you asked seeming a tiny bit shocked that jax could actually act nice "of course I am you're my friend!" jax said crossing his arms getting a little annoyed you thougt he didn't care about you "I know...I know...." you said yawning and rubbing your eyes looking very sleep deprived "are you ok y/n?....you look absolutely miserable?" jax asked putting one of his gloved hand on your cheek making you look at him "just...a little bit tired and depressed..." you said sighing again blushing a tiny bit at the physical touch "why didn't you tell me?!" jax asked getting annoyed again not wanting you to suffer in silence "well I didn't want to bother you..." you said sounding very guilty trying to look away but jax had a tight grip on your cheek "you never annoy me y/n...I want to tell me if you are ever struggling with anything...I'm here for you...." jax said his words sounding very genuine like he REALLY cared for you "ok...." you said still blushing a little feeling a tiny bit better now that jax was here "this may sound a bit weird but um...can I give you some cuddles?" jax asked becoming a bit awkward realizing that maybe he shouldn't have said anything "....that actually sounds very nice....sure" you said starting to smile softly

Jax started to get a tiny bit excited then he scooped you up in his arms carrying you over to your messy bed sitting you down then he sat down rapping his arms around you keeping you close to him

"I hate it here....I wish I could leave" you said pausing for a moment as you looked at him directly in the eyes "but... being with you makes me actually feel slightly happiness..." you said starting to smile again but then jax became a dark shade of crimson becoming very flustered at your words but he didn't look away he just stared back at you

There was a awkward silence for a minute or two but then jax spoke up finally

"Do you uh...um.......love me?" jax asked becoming very flustered and awkward again "yes....yes I do..." you said starting to blush s lot again being overwhelmed by emotions

"Do you love me?" you asked your eyes starting to sparkle a little as you continued to blush your heart pounding quickly

"I love you a lot..." jax muttered not used to loving someone or even being loved his ears trying to cover his face seeming slightly embarrassed then you grabbed his face giving him a quick but loving kiss which made jax's heart melt (not literally don't worry)

"So does this mean we're like officially together?" jax asked seeming a little confused not really knowing how relationships really work

"Yes does does mean we're together..." you said holding jax close to you hurrying your face in his chest which made him wrap,his arms around you trying to keep you as close as possible

After a few minutes you finally fell asleep getting the sleep you obviously needed

Jax sighed looking down at you smiling softly

"Sleep well darling...."

[syrupfog]

Need to read some fic where Law is the one who falls HARD and instantly, while Luffy takes a while. 

Law full on pining from day 1 while Luffy’s like “haha you’re so weird but your bear’s cool”

Law convincing himself that just being close to Luffy during their alliance is enough, treasuring every moment bc he knows Luffy doesn’t feel the same. All the straw hats pitying him and/or outright hostile towards him bc he’s transparent as fuck

Luffy being like “I’m busy becoming the pirate king traffy’s cool I like him but he’s not my crew” and law accepting that and thinking it’s for the best, he doesn’t have a good track record keeping loved ones alive anyway.

Law devoting himself mind body and soul to luffy after Dressrosa, knowing even then that Luffy’s going to be pirate king and law will do anything to make that happen because he wants luffy to have the freedom law’s never felt

And luffy, despite what everyone seems to think, he’s not dumb. He knows how law feels. He doesn’t GET it, just like he doesn’t get why Boa Hancock feels that way, or why he has a fan club, but he does know how law feels about him.

And maybe it’s not until after egghead that something changes. Maybe it’s when Luffy realises that Teach HAS Law, and he gets more upset than people expect. When he goes after Black beard with a fury even he doesn’t understand

And I dunno, maybe Luffy’s never felt love this way before, can recognise it in others but not in himself because it’s all new, but when he gets law back, beaten and tortured in the name of the eternal life surgery, Luffy can’t let him out of his sight.

Almost maniacally, carries law all around the sunny like a soother, law barely conscious as chopper is desperately trying to tend to his injuries but luffy just feels WEIRD without law in his arms. He’s being petulant and stubborn about it because he’s not processing WHY he feels this way. 

And law comes back to himself slowly and is equally confused. Feels undeserving for this weird questionable kindness of being dragged all over like a favourite stuffed animal while, again, chopper is BEGGING luffy to leave law in the infirmary

It goes on for days, until law finally tells luffy to for the love of god put him down, and luffy says “I WON’T I CAN’T something BAD will happen again” and Law has to stiltedly assure him that no, it really won’t. He goes on a tangent about compulsions that luffy clearly ignores

And to law this is a special sort of hell because he LOVES this. Knows this is the luffy version of being doted on,and feels entirely undeserving. He’s knocked luffy off course of becoming the pirate king, his one dream. Law can’t be the reason that doesn’t happen

But Luffy keeps not letting him go, until Law has to FORCE the issue “STRAW HAT YA PUT ME DOWN” only for luffy to say “NO I FEEL WEIRD YOU’RE MAKING ME FEEL WEIRD AND I DON’T GET IT, YOU’RE MAKING ME NERVOUS”

he’s throwing a whole mini tantrum on the middle of the deck on the Sunny where everyone is pointedly looking away as if they can’t hear. And Law, equally unable to understand the situation, says, “WELL HOW DO YOU THINK *i* FEEL”

And maybe that’s when it clicks for Luffy. Ohhhhhh this is how law felt all that time? Like uncomfy bad nervous and upset tummy? THAT’S what this is? 

“Traffy is this LOVE?”he asks, VERY loudly. 

And law, turning beet red, says “no!! It’s not!! Put me down!!”

Because law has known luffy in some form or another for three years at this point and law has loved him for all of it and therefore he is WELL AWARE that luffy doesn’t love him back, so this is clearly something else. PTSD, probably. OCD, definitely.

But then , because all of the straw hats ARE there, Franky yells, “don’t listen to him, little bro! That’s definitely love!” 

And law chokes, starts struggling to be put down, ears BURNING and face in flames. “No it’s NOT” he yells.

“Traffy,” Luffy says, a deep frown on his face as his arms wind again and again around law’s middle. “I think franky’s right.” 

“He’s not,” law seethes, struggling against the rubber boa constrictor arms. “ You CAN’T like me, you’re going to be PIRATE KING.”

Luffy looks up at him. “So what?” He asks, genuinely confused 

“You can’t TIE YOURSELF DOWN to THIS,” law says, furtively motioning to himself. “You’re the freest man in the world, you can’t be tied down to someone who couldn’t even beat black beard.”

Luffy studies him. He thinks REALLY hard, tilting his head and observing law’s expressions go through the five phases of grief. Then he says “that’s dumb, Traffy. Being free means I can choose whatever I want, and I want you.”

Which is, like, something law never let himself think about. So he doesn’t know how to respond. It doesn’t make SENSE. Luffy is everything, is freedom and joy, and law is a man who’s failed every important person in his life.

But luffy IS free to choose, is the thing. And law long ago vowed to do whatever he could to make him pirate king, so. 

“…fine, straw hat-ya. I think you will change your mind, but I won’t stand in your way.”

Luffy laughs. “That’s a weird way to say you’ll be my boyfriend, traffy,” he says. 

And then he gives law the worst, most wet kiss in history. All the straw hats in the vicinity cover their ears in embarrassment.

[dreamingofmarauders]

Heart of Stone

Sirius Black x GN!Reader

Summary: After repeatedly feeling disappointment from supposed friends, the last straw is when your heart shatters after the love of your life turns you away like everyone else, so you decide to harden your heart so much that nothing can ever hurt you again. Fourteen years later, the same man enters your life once again.

Warnings: Fake friends, feeling unloved, heart break, loneliness, mentions of death, crying, cussing, angst, a hint of fluff

Word Count: 4k

A/N: This one is a bit of a longer piece, I just recently finished it and I really loved this idea and I think it turned out not too bad. I tried to keep it GN!Reader but if it does not seem to be at any point, please let me know! Apologies if there are errors/typos, I tried my best to catch them. If you enjoy it don't forget to give it a like! A reblog would be appreciated as well :)

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You sighed, eyes flitting between your friends, or that's what they said they were to you anyway. You, however, felt otherwise. Sure these people were in your year, half of them your dorm mates, but when they made plans without you, forgot you were there during conversations, you would feel your heart clench and feel otherwise.

You had known love from dear ones once, when you were young. But, fate had been too cruel to you and snatched your parents away from you just as you had entered Hogwarts. It had taken a huge toll on you, realizing your parents were gone forever. Sure, you had moved in with your uncle and aunt and their kids, but having already been distant from them, it affected the amount of love you received from them.

It took you some time but you were able to make friends slowly after you were able to accept the fact your parents weren't coming back. The years progressed and while you had initially loved your friends, now you felt more a tag along than anything. They barely acknowledged you and would only notice your presence if you suddenly spoke up.

You were tired of it and soon broke ties with them. However you were unaware at the time, but someone entirely different would enter your life and change everything for you.

That someone was Sirius Black.

You weren't even sure how it had begun but suddenly one day the Gryffindor began to ask you out, and continued to do so until you finally said yes some months later as you both neared the end of your sixth year.

And that was the best decision you had made.

You were beyond happy with Sirius and you couldn't imagine your life without him.

You were madly in love with Sirius Black.

Your life was looking all good.

Until now.

"What?" You breathed out in disbelief as you stared at the man in front of you.

It was a late autumn evening in 1981, and Sirius was over at yours. The two of you had yet to move in to a place together since Sirius stilled lived with his best mate, Remus, and since Remus struggled financially, sharing a flat the two best friends could pay for it together, which you and Sirius both understood how much easier it would make things for Remus.

It was always a joyous and lovely time whenever Sirius came over to your place, except now, you felt your whole world crashing down.

"You heard me the first time." He grunted out, "I want to break up."

Your lip wobbled as tears began to cascade down your cheeks.

"Why?" You whispered out, the heartache reflected in your voice.

Sirius looked at you with cold eyes, "Why? Because you're worthless and you were just a time pass for me, nothing more, I'm tired of you."

Those words were the last straw. You heard your heart shatter into a million pieces as the sobs escaped your mouth, your body wracking with each one. For once in your life after so long, you thought things were alright, that you were happy and loved. How could you have been so blind?

"I hate you, Sirius Black." You uttered out as you felt your knees buckle out from underneath you, making you fall to the floor as you cried. "I hate you so much." You said before shakily wiping your tears away as you stood up, trying to get a grip on yourself in front of him.

"Get out." You spoke, pointing to the door, "Get out of my home and never show me your face again." You ordered, staring into those grey irises you loved so much. You saw Sirius' face flicker with a different emotion which you couldn't decipher, before his face hardened and he turned on his heels, walking away and slamming the door behind him.

As the sound echoed off the walls, you let out a sob and finally let yourself crumble entirely.

"What did I do to ever deserve this?" You cried out, pouring your heart out as you let the tears flow.

Although after that day, you vowed to never let anyone hurt you again and to never shed a tear again.

So as James and Lily died and Sirius was sent to jail for their murder, you did not cry, and as Remus disappeared without a trace, you did not cry.

You had died the day Sirius had broken up with you, as each of his words had pierced your heart like a dagger. Now, all you had was a stone for a heart.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Many, many years after the end of the First Wizarding War, you stood once again in a similar situation. Voldemort had come back but everyone refused to believe James and Lily’s son, Harry Potter. So Dumbledore took matters into his own hands.

The Order of the Phoenix was back in business.

You sauntered in, causing all heads to turn and some to even gasp in surprise. After all, you had worked hard and become one of the top Aurors of the department.

“Glad to see you have finally arrived, Y/n.” Dumbledore said to you before turning to the whole room, “This here is Y/n L/n for those of you who may not know, and they will henceforth be joining us from today.”

Murmurs and nods of agreement filled the dining room before you were gestured to a seat by Dumbledore. You swiftly placed yourself on a chair, turning your full attention to the Hogwarts Headmaster. Although you of course felt that prickling at the back of your neck, the sensation of being watched.

You knew who it was, and you hated him. So you did the only thing reasonable.

You removed your gaze from Dumbledore to the Azkaban escapee, who watched you from the head of the table, your ex, Sirius Black, and stared him down with a coldness that sent the warm smile that erupted on his lips vanishing, making guilt flood his face.

Satisfied, you turned back to the Order Founder once again.

The meeting went on and before you knew it, your chair made a sound as it scraped against the floor when you stood up, as you headed out of the meeting room and straight for the main door of Twelve Grimmauld Place.

A hand caught onto your wrist, pausing your movement. You felt your body stiffen. Even after all these years, you still remembered his touch.

“Let go, Black, I have places to be.” You gritted out.

“Hear me out please.”

You immediately freed yourself from his grip and spun on your heels, glaring at Sirius who only watched you with a broken look. He had caused this and he had regretted it since that day and would regret his decision until his last breath. He had hurt his Y/n and turned you into this shell of a person.

“Like I said that day all those years back,” You began saying, “I don’t want to see your face.” You spat at him before turning to go, leaving Sirius stare after your retreating figure in guilt and heartache.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

“He really misses you, you know?”

You looked up at the tall man beside you, your piercing gaze staring into his soul.

“It was his fault for whatever happened. He left just like you disappeared as well.” You replied making the Gryffindor’s expression turn into one of shame.

You had ran into Remus Lupin at the second Order meeting, seeing the werewolf after so many years, but like towards everyone that had hurt you, you had disregarded him.

Now as you and Remus were on your assigned mission together, the Gryffindor tried to make another attempt to get through to you.

“I’m sorry, you know that, Y/n.”

You let out a breath, “Focus, Lupin, danger could be anywhere.” You stated instead, ending the discussion altogether to which Remus shook his head in defeat, heaving a heavy sigh.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

”Y/n/n.” He said as he corner you at the stairwell. You glared up at him as he caged you against the wall.

“Move Black, before I hex you.” You gritted out, making Sirius only shake his head.

“Not until you listen to what I have to say.”

You groaned, letting your head fall against the wall. Sirius had been persistent in his attempts to catch you, but you always got away from him quickly. To be frank, you were tired of it.

“Fine.” You said and watched Sirius’ face light up. “But after this, you will not try to approach me ever again, got it?”

Sirius’ smile dimmed but the hope in his eyes shone just as before. “I give you my word.”

You released a breath, irritatingly, pushing the man away, gesturing for him to follow you to the room that housed a small library. You both stood by the fireplace, the light creating shadows on your faces as you stared Sirius down.

“You have only a few minutes to explain your gibberish, so start talking, Black.” You said, your arms coming to fold over your chest as you began to tap your foot impatiently.

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I am truly sorry for all the pain I caused you. I deserve every bit of your hate, but you need to understand I did it to keep you safe.”

You arched an eyebrow, letting out a cold, mocking laugh, “Seriously, Black?”

Sirius nodded, “You have every reason not to trust me but believe me, I only broke up with you because I needed to make sure you were safe.” He paused, sucking in a breath as you watched with slight curiosity, “I had originally agreed to become Lily and James’ Secret Keeper, and I knew I was going to be a big target.” Sirius paused, his voice choking, “I-I couldn’t have let you get harmed due to me, y/n/n, I loved you too much. I did what seemed reasonable at the time; To push you away.”

Sirius sank down into the armchair, holding his face, “Of course, not only did I fuck up by losing you for good but I suggested Peter as Secret Keeper, and that decision cost James and Lily’s lives.” He said, staring blankly into the fire.

Sirius dared a glance up at you only to discover that you were already gazing at him. There was a different, softer, emotion in your eyes, but Sirius couldn’t decipher what it really meant. He watched you open and close your mouth a few times, before loudly clearing your throat.

“I don’t know if your story is true or not but I’m sorry about James and Lily, they didn’t deserve any of it.” You paused, swallowing, “I’m sorry about you landing in Azkaban, because you weren’t at fault for their murders, but I can't forgive you, we could have worked something out but you made the choice to push me away and it worked. I can't ever forgive you for the pain you caused me.” With that, you looked at him, shaking your head slightly before walking off, leaving Sirius to stare after you as your words echoed around in his head, his heart dropping.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

True to his word, Sirius had stopped pursuing you after that fateful day, for which you were grateful. However, you felt a rather peculiar feeling pulling your heart after that conversation, but you couldn't understand what it was and why it was bothering you.

One evening, you had been invited to a party to celebrate Ron and Hermione becoming Prefects at Grimmauld Place. You had just stepped out of the bathroom and were heading back to the dining room, when something caught your ear.

"Hey, isn't that Y/n?"

You paused, the voice seemingly coming from the room closest to you currently on the floor.

"It is." A rather familiar voice answered.

Sirius.

You quietly peeked into the room, only to find Sirius sitting, with what seemed to be a photo album laying open on his lap and Harry peeking over his shoulder.

"Wait... Are- Were you two..."

"A thing? Yeah, we were." Sirius said, his voice carrying a fondness that he had always used with you.

"But now you aren't together anymore? Why?" Harry questioned, his eyebrows furrowed as he scratched his scalp, reminding Sirius of his best friend.

"Because I messed up the best thing in my life." Sirius answered, his tone holding a somberness to it. "I thought it was best to break up with them to keep Y/n safe, but not only did I screw up there but my mistakes also cost your parents' lives, Harry."

There was a tense silence that felt suffocating to Y/n, who was listening carefully from the outside.

"Do you still love them?" Harry slowly asked, gazing at his godfather with sympathy and curiosity.

"Never stopped. Y/n's one of the reasons I was sane in Azkaban. I never stopped loving them, Harry, and I never will." Sirius answered, his eyes glossing over.

You felt your heart twist, something familiar coming up but you shook your head fiercely. You couldn't become weak.

Not again.

With an air of determination, you walked back to the party, unaware that the past was catching back up to you.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Months had passed since then, you had been on guard duty the most, guarding the prophecy in the Department of Mysteries. The one day you had not been able to attend your assigned shift because you had fallen ill, Arthur Weasley had been attacked by Voldemort’s snake, Nagini. Thankfully the ginger man pulled through and was fine. Some months after that, there was no trace of the white snow as June had long arrived, bringing warmer days.

Ever since you overheard Sirius talking about you with Harry, as much as you denied it, something had shifted in your heart. At times, your mind was full of thoughts of the raven haired man, or you’d secretly glance at him, although much to your dismay Remus had caught you once and he had been teasing you endlessly, knowing your long buried feelings were surfacing once again.

It was one day you were at Twelve Grimmauld Place, in the dining room after a meeting. Only a few of you remained behind, your fellow co-workers Mad-Eye Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nyphmadora Tonks, a good friend of yours, along with Remus, whom you had began to fix your friendship with and Sirius, who still received your coldness, which he willingly accepted. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t showed small gestures for you, whether that was making sure your glass of water was full at dinner, or going to bed after you had retired to your room for whenever you had to stay the night. Although you wouldn’t admit it but you were touched by his actions, reminding you of the sweet time from all those years back.

However all hell broke loose as you all received a Patronus, prompting you all to apparate out to the Ministry of Magic, as Harry and his friends had apparently ended up in the Department of Mysteries, where the Death Eaters were on their tail.

The group of you burst through into the room where they all were and that’s when all chaos broke loose. The Death Eaters turned onto the newly arrived and a huge battle broke out. You found yourself face to face with Rabastan Lestrange as you ran in.

His eyes lit up in delight, “Well if it isn’t the famous Auror L/n.” He cackled, “Too bad it’s time for you to finally be defeated.” And he shot a spell at you which you dodged, instead throwing a spell his way which he deflected.

Both of you were going back and forth but he hadn’t realized you were just making him feel a false sense of security.

He laughed again after deflecting another spell, “That all you got? You’re a disgrace to the name of an Auror, L/n.”

You finally smirked, “Bye bye, Lestrange." You uttered before casting a powerful spell, that too so quickly that the Death Eater noticed it a second too late, too absorbed in his self glory and went flying, hit a wall and fell down, unconscious.

It was a secret trick you used, knowing these people were too self absorbed about themselves that any small feeling of victory would have them letting their guard down.

Satisfied, you turned your eyes towards the others. However new shouts and people pointing had you looking up only to realize Albus Dumbledore, who had been on the run due to the Ministry wanting to arrest him, had also joined the battle.

Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. You watched Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her.

''Come on, you can do better than that!'' He yelled, his voice echoing around the room.

Your eyes flitted to Bellatrix, whose face took on a deadly expression of determination.

You felt your feet begin to start moving, knowing this wouldn’t end well as Sirius was distracted. You had just screamed his name when the second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest. The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.

“SIRIUS!” You shouted as his surprised gaze turned to you, and he began to fall, right back into the Veil and you felt your stomach drop.

Your years of training came into use and you managed to get there and caught his hand, pulling him back. You lost your balance and the pair of you fell onto the ground.

You heard Bellatrix cackle gleefully, shouting, “I killed Sirius Black!” And Harry, who was in a state of shock turned to her in anger and chased her all the way out, Dumbledore following. However, you couldn’t care less. You were numbly staring at Sirius’ limp body beside you, and suddenly your heart broke.

“SIRIUS!” You shouted out in agony, cradling his face. “Wake up, please! You can’t leave me again! Please wake up!” You cried, your head falling against his chest as you sobbed your heart out. “I love you.” You whispered out, too distraught that all your intelligence had left you. It’s only when Remus sat beside you, slowly grabbing you and letting you cry against him, that he, as a last attempt gripped Sirius' wrist due to which did you all find out he was still alive.

Some hours later, you all were back at Twelve Grimmauld Place, waiting for the Healer to fix up Sirius. As soon as the Healer left, you burst into the room, dropping to your knees by the bed, watching with tears of relief pooling in your eyes as you saw Sirius' chest evenly rise and fall.

He was alive.

Everyone else present at Headquarters took a little peek at him before leaving the room, knowing you and him needed time alone.

"You were right, Remus."

Remus, who was standing beside you, looked at you with a surprised expression, "What?"

"You were right, I had been lying to everyone including myself." You told him, gently stroking your thumb over Sirius' hand, gazing at him softly. "I think my feelings had come back a long time ago, I just was too stubborn to admit them." You confessed, your heart twisting. “If Sirius had died, how would I have lived with myself?” You said, turning to look at Remus, who looked at you with sympathy.

“But you have the chance now.” He answered, squeezing your shoulder encouragingly. A knock interrupted the two of you and you both turned to find Tonks sticking her head through the door.

“You got a second, Remus?” She said, to which the werewolf nodded and patted you gently on the shoulder before following the metaphormagus out. You watched him go and as the door shut, you turned to look back at Sirius, softly brushing a few loose strands of hair away from his face

He suddenly stirred, his face scrunching up before he flickered open his eyes, grey orbs flitting around as he tried to understand where he was.

"Siri?'

Your voice caught his attention and Sirius turned his head slightly to the side to look at you, his gaze filling up with love.

"Y/n/n?"

"How are you feeling?" You asked.

Sirius stared at you in surprise, finding you by his side, looking so worried which was completely astonishing to him, since you barely ever glanced at him.

"I think so." He groaned, eyes clenching shut for a brief moment, "I remember dueling Bellatrix and then a spell hit me but after that..."

"You almost fell through the veil. You almost died." You told him, your voice cracking on the last word making Sirius frown in concern as he sat up, pulling you up to seat you beside himself.

Your lip wobbled as tears began to cascade down your cheeks. "I am so sorry for everything. I-I-" A sob escaped you, "I was so hurt when you left that I told myself I'd never let anyone else in, and I held it against you when you were nothing but sorry."

Sirius felt his heart shatter and he moved to grab you but you shook your head, "I don't deserve you." You said, curling in on yourself as you finally let yourself cry, to let all those emotions buried deep within the chambers of your heart break free.

Sirius' grey eyes filled up with tears and he wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to sob into his chest.

"It's not your fault, love, it never was." He told you, caressing your head gently.

"I almost lost you today and I would have never forgiven myself if I had never got to tell you that I still love you."

Sirius stiffened, his mind buzzing while his heart began to thump loudly in his chest. He couldn’t believe his ears.

“You what?” He uttered out in disbelief. You pulled away, wiping your face before placing your hands on either side of Sirius’ face.

“I love you, Sirius Black.” You expressed, your lips turning up into a small smile. "I love you so much."

Sirius stared at you with slightly rounded eyes before he smiled so wide that you melted.

“Am I dead and in heaven?”

“Sirius!” You scolded, smacking him very lightly on the chest for his mischief.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter before his eyes filled up with love and fondness, his grin not leaving his face.

“I love you so much, darling.” He practically whispered, his voice reflecting his heart. “I love you so much.”

You beamed at that before letting your hands slide to his neck, your breathing beginning to pick up as Sirius moved his hands down to your waist. Your eyes flickered between his eyes and back, him doing the exact same. You both leaned in, your eyes slowly fluttering and you gently attached your lips to his.

At that, memories of all those years came rushing back. The feel of each other, the kisses, the hugs, the happiness, the love.

The kiss was slow and soft but once you both got a taste of each other, emotions became high and the two of you got more aggressive, Sirius picking you up and placing you on his lap as you both deepened the kiss, wanting more of each other as the two of you had been deprived of each other for so long.

A sudden throat clearing made you jump and the pair of you pulled apart only to find a smirking Remus and a gleeful Tonks.

“So I guess it’s time for a celebration huh?” The young woman said, eyeing her cousin and friend.

“I think it’s best if we leave these two alone.” Remus commented, throwing a wink your way to which you flipped off them both, earning chuckles out of everyone.

Sirius pulled you close, kissing your cheek before you rested your head on his shoulder.

After long and lonely years, your heart had returned to its previous state, like it had been all those years ago, before it had hardened into stone.

Your heart was back with Sirius Black and his was yours.

Forever and always.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

[bananastarion]

Rambling headcanons about how Astarion's trauma could manifest in your relationship.

Disclaimer: I am not fetishizing trauma or PTSD here. I have C-PTSD myself, and have dated others with it as well. So some of this is (loosely) inspired by my own experiences. It's not pretty, it's not fun, but I'd say it's pretty realistic. So yeah, fair warning! Anyway, let's gooooo

Astarion isn't fazed by much, but he IS claustrophobic- having to claw your way out of your own coffin, being trapped in a mindflayer pod and being trapped in a tomb for a year straight would do that to anyone. If he is ever unfortunate enough to be stuck in a small space again, he'll go into a blind panic. He'll hyperventilate and try to force his way out any way he can, and if he can't get out in time he'll just completely mentally shut down for a bit. If you plan to pull him into a little broom closet for a sneaky fuck, just forget it ok? You will probably get your eyes accidentally clawed out.

There is a long period in your relationship where Astarion is gradually getting more comfortable with being vulnerable around you, but he's also very self-conscious about it. He doesn't want you to pity him or think he's weak. You will be tempted to give him lots of validation and praise to make up for all of the psychological abuse he endured, to reassure him that he's finally safe and free, and that you love him for more than just his body. That his problems won't ever drive you away, and that you don't judge him. He appreciates your words deeply, he wants and needs them more than he cares to admit. But at the same time, they completely overwhelm him. Finally being in a good place with a caring partner is such a stark contrast to what he's been through, that it forces him to see even deeper into the void inside him and recognize just how badly he was treated, how deprived he's been. They hit him hard in both good and bad ways, and sometimes he'll tell you to stop because he just can't handle feeling so much right now. It's best to stick to mostly surface level stuff and ease carefully into the deeper, more meaningful observations.

The sweeter your words, the more his mind races with fears that you are idealizing him and eventually you'll come to see him for what he really is- and then abandon him. Fears that he'll come to depend on your kindness only for it to be ripped away, whether by you or by circumstances beyond his control. Fears that you don't really mean it, that you're just manipulating him the way he did to others. Deep down he hopes and trusts you're sincere, but it's just so hard to accept when Cazador's voice is in his head, countering all of it. This is all so new to him, so unknown. And the unknown is terrifying. He gets frustrated that your kindness does this to him, he wants to be able to embrace your words, he's so impatient to heal and finally be over this shit already. He judges himself so harshly for still struggling with all this. Cazador's dead, he is free, he has someone who truly loves him- why isn't that enough?! Why can't he fully appreciate it, is he just going to feel broken forever? He worries he'll take too long to get over his past, and you'll get tired of it and leave. Expect to give him lots of reassurance about all of this.

He doesn't like to cry around you, but over time you will lower his guard enough that he'll stop fighting back the tears quite so much. Sometimes it's a bad dream, sometimes you say something that just hits him hard (even if it's in a good way), and sometimes he has no idea what triggered it. You tell him he can wake you up any time if he needs you, but often he chooses not to wake you and just suffers through it alone. When it happens while you're both awake, at first he would roll over and face away from you when the tears started flowing if he couldn't collect himself, and you'd just hug him from behind. But eventually he feels comfortable enough to bury his face in your chest and just let it all out. When it's really bad, he'll be trembling and hugging you so tightly as he sobs into your shirt that it's almost hard for you to breathe. The best thing you can do is just be there with him, stroke his hair, caress the tears off his cheeks. It can be dicey, but eventually you learn to read him well enough that sometimes stroking the scars on his back very gently can be healing for him. There are other times though, when this will be too much for him. Same goes for kissing. Also, don't even think about telling anyone you've seen him like this. But of course, why would you?

Don't go into therapist mode with him when he's that vulnerable, and if he decides to talk, just let him talk. Hold space for him and be there with him. Afterwards, help ground him in the present and reconnect him to his senses by pointing out things in the room, remind him that it's not all happening to him right now. Realize how special it is that he feels safe enough with you to be so vulnerable. There are times when he even breaks down during sex, and he'll say that he's fine and you can keep going, but it's for the best to stop what you're doing and check in instead. He often dissociates when he's triggered, and doesn't realize something is wrong until it's too late.

Trauma isn't always pretty, and there are times when it does strain your relationship. When he's really triggered, he might take it out on you. He'll try his best to push you away, and say terrible things he doesn't mean. Perhaps things Cazador said to him. His articulate manner of speech can be sharper than his blade when wielded against you in the heat of the moment. He doesn't believe you can love this side of him, that he is fundamentally broken and unlovable, so it's a test of sorts to prove his own fears. He doesn't necessarily realize what he's doing, he's just lashing out from a point of pure fear. Trauma is an explanation for this behavior, but not an excuse, so it's important you set very firm and consistent boundaries when he gets like this. He might not appreciate it in the moment, but he will once he calms down.

It takes some time for him to feel truly secure with you, but he's getting there. In the meantime, he's starting to get a little clingy and codependent. He's not used to having so much freedom, and doesn't always know what to do with himself when you're not around. Being in your presence is when he's closest to feeling safe and at ease, and being apart for too long can cause his mind to race, especially when he has nothing to distract himself with. It drives him crazy that it gets to him so much- he's never been dependent on anyone before, and this side of him surprises himself. He hates it, which only stresses him out more. He tries to play it off, but it's very obvious he is struggling with separation anxiety. You don't want to overindulge him, but to ease his fears you decide to get a pair of magical rings. You can make each other's rings glow whenever you want- so if Astarion is feeling lonely, he can make your ring glow and you can make his glow back. Sometimes, just that is enough to get him through a rough day without you. Once he has done some more healing, eventually he will come to enjoy his alone time in a way he's never gotten to before in his life, and as much as you enjoy spending time with him, you'll be so happy for him to finally have that.