#and years of school to start again with 15 year olds
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I think I'm going through a Cloud phase (again) + because my birthday's coming up I'm requesting ambrosia straight from the source (saltcanons): How did Cloud usually celebrate his birthday as a kid in Nibelheim vs. as an adult. Any tl you want; canon, AC, agszc, the choice is yours <3
❤️🍊❤️ henlooo pumpkin! Thanks for the ask! ❤️ and Happy (soon) Birthday!
0 years old:
Against tradition, both his parents were there to welcome him. They were both young, both scared, both excited, and when he came out breech, they held each other's hands and their breath until he drew his first and SCREAMED.
He came out the same way he would go through life: feet first and impossible to kill, stubborn as a mule. They were so proud and laughed and cried and couldn't get over how perfect he was.
1 year old:
Papa (Cloud could say his name and Mama's) made a little carrot cake from carrots they grew in their garden, honey from their bees, and a lot of love since they didn't have much else. Claudia decorated it with dandelions to match his shockingly thick and spiky hair (just like hers).
He LOVED it, shoveling handfuls in his mouth with a frown of determination while Mama and Papa giggled and kissed.
2 years old:
Cloud said "NO!" and Mama cried. She tried to make the cake again but couldn't focus because he kept asking "WHERE PAPA?!" and when she told him "I don't know", he started saying "NO!" and didn't stop until he screamed himself to sleep.
3 years old:
They moved to the mountains, Mama said they would look for Papa, and Cloud tried every day, even on his birthday, but couldn't find him. He wanted chocolate milk, so Mama got it for him, but stopped wearing her pretty sparkly earrings after.
5 years old:
Cloud was excited to have friends show up. He helped Mama every day, and this year she said they could make a real cake big enough to share! Only one friend from school came, TIFA! And her mom. And they ate cake and had some left over and it was SO FUN!!!
9 years old:
Cloud asked Ma to please stop trying to invite people; they wouldn't come, not even Tifa since she got hurt and her dad said to stay away from him. So they celebrated together, with a small cake and milk (he was too mature for chocolate milk, but regular had lots of protein, which he needed to grow strong).
14 years old:
After Ma went to bed, he slipped out the back door with a small bag of food and a lot of determination. He left her a note. He didn't realize she was watching from the window and crying, knowing she couldn't stop him.
15 years old:
He spent far too much gil to call his Ma, since she had insisted, and ate the cookies she sent with a carton of milk from the mess hall, all while hiding in a broom closet.
16 years old:
Red-faced, he blew out a candle on the ridiculous cupcake Zack got him, all covered in sprinkles and frosting. Zack hollered and cheered and Kunsel blew a party horn. Absurd.
He loved it.
17 years old:
He stared at the glowing eyes above him, wondering if they would ever make it out alive. A skinny arm braced him, and he could barely hear a warbly, whispered rendition of a birthday song as...Zack? Zack. Sang to him. He closed his eyes, not hearing Zack begging for him to stay awake.
20 years old:
He blinked. One moment he was in the desert with a sword. He couldn't leave the sword, it was important. He didn't know why, but he couldn't drop it, no matter what. He blinked again and he was in a city. He blinked again and he was on a train. He blinked again and there was that girl, who wasn't dead? Was she supposed to be dead? Tifa? Tifa. He knew that, he was a First Class SOLDIER.
21 years old:
He was working on some construction for Tifa when she brought him a big glass of milk and a little cake.
"Happy birthday," she said, smiling softly.
He thanked her and she went inside. It was salty. Oh, no, that was from him, as he remembered Zack, Aerith, Ma...
23 years old:
He thanked Marlene and Denzel for the pictures they drew, and let them help him blow out his candles. He also allowed himself a small smile, until Yuffie strapped a stupid birthday hat to his head and he had to chase her down and mess up her hair. Tifa laughed and gave him a big hug and a little kiss on the cheek, which he thought about for several weeks after. Months. Years.
25 years old:
Tifa took him out under the stars.
"Hey Cloud?" she said, taking his hand. His heart raced. She was always a touchy friend with him and he didn't think she knew how much it made him feel like blushing and melting and wanting to put his mouth on hers.
"Yeah?" he said.
"I've been dropping hints, but I don't think you've been picking them up," she said. He tilted his head.
"Is this about the eggs? You SAID cook less than three, I SAW your text: less than sign, then three. Two eggs is less than three. How was i supposed to know you wanted more?"
Tifa giggled.
"No no no," she said. "Well yes, that was one of the hints. The less than three was supposed to look like a heart. Because I like you."
"Oh. I like you too," he said. More than she knew.
"Cloud, I love you as more than a friend. I like you romantically and want to kiss you and go on dates. It's ok if you don't feel the same! But I wanted to be sure to say it clearly, just in case."
Cloud blinked rapidly.
"You...love me?"
"Yes."
"Romantically?"
"Yes."
"You want to kiss me?"
"Yes. Is...that ok? We don't have to change any-"
"YES!" he squeaked, then controlled his voice and pitched it lower. "Yes, that is ok. Um...can I?" He waved awkwardly at her lips.
"Yes," she said, smiling
----------------------------------------------------
Alternate 25th birthday, because Genesis:
This red-coated, poetry-nerd asshole was on his LAST nerve. Cloud stomped into the bar and slammed the stupid roses and the stupid luxury chocolates onto the counter.
"Oof, someone's in trouble," said Tifa. Cloud snorted.
"He keeps dilly-dallying. It's been a year. If he wants to have sex, he should just say so. He's hot, I'd just do it if he wanted. But he won't just SAY SO, and I know if *I* try to say it, it'll come out wrong and he'll leave because I'm just...not...words...good."
"I highly doubt he'll give up on you over you being bad at saying you want to sleep with him," said Tifa.
"Not sleep, have sex," said Cloud. "And how do YOU know?! Don't you know he's like, super book smart? I ain't had that education!"
"I know because he turned the color of his coat and dribbled the pie out of his mouth onto my nice booth table the minute you said you wanted to bed him," said Tifa pointing to a dark corner behind him.
Cloud whirled around. She was not joking. There was Genesis, in all his glory, fork hovering midair, jaw dangling, red faced, half-chewed pie in front of him, staring at Cloud.
Genesis quickly shut his mouth and cleared his throat.
"Ahem, Strife, I, well, I did not realize, I would be honored, I thought perhaps you would not stoop so low, after, you know," he waved his hand vaguely.
"After you didn't help Zack, basically made me help kill Angeal, and moped in a cave while Sephiroth was trying to eat the damn planet? Well yeah, that sucked, but you were sick and unaware for most of that, and it doesn't change the fact you're h-hot," said Cloud, only stumbling over his words at the end.
"Oh," said Genesis, gazing into Cloud's eyes.
"Yeah," said Cloud, gazing into Genesis' eyes.
"Get a room," said Tifa. "You're grossing out my customers."
Yuffie waved from a couple tables over, making gagging faces as Vincent sat with her looking pained and Cid rolled his eyes.
Cloud had a very exciting birthday after that.
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Being an apprentice in your 20s and learning new skills is all fun and interesting. I just don't wanna be treated like a child and I feel like the system and the people still act like I am.
#got introduced to my current supercisor today and he takes regulations so very seriously#it doesn't matter to him that they were made for 15 year olds#i feel like I'm being overly criticised and NOTHING HAPPENED#this is a serious topic and even when talking to my UNION the only thing they tell me is their past achievements#they're an apprentice union so you see the pattern there right#the media is like#nooo we need more people who know things from expierence#who have learned a profession#and not academics#but most people starting in such professions are literal children that don't care and have had their parents sign them up#but when you enter such programs as an adult becuse you feel lost in the academics world#the system isn't made for you#and you struggle with your mental health over it and constantly regret your decisions because you've wasted your prior achievements#and years of school to start again with 15 year olds#you get paid the same#you are treated like a child for most of the time#you have to sit through communal punishments like it's primary school#but the media#OH THE MEDIA#they scream and cry about how nobody cares for apprenticeships
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Survived today fine. Just chilling now.
Ordered a new bridge for my violin. Current one is kinda bent (from age, I think) and I think it's affecting my sound quality. It's supposed to come in on Saturday, along with some mutes (both for performing and also for practicing. First for making it quiet while playing a song and second to make it quieter in general so you're less disruptive while practicing. I think.) and also some sand paper. Because I'm probably gonna have to sand the legs of the bridge some to adjust it to my violin's shape.
I've never replaced a bridge before. I've put one back *on* after at least one time of accidentally knocking it out one way or another. Kinda really inconvenient. Gotta loosen all the strings, position it, then re-tune the entire thing. So that part is inconvenient, but familiar. But the sanding it into shape....... well, I might look up an instructional video or something. Just in case. It seems like it'd be pretty intuitive, but better to be safe than sorry.
#speculation nation#yknow now that i think about it it probably is pretty much time#i dont know what's standard for violin maintenance but i think it's the same bridge ive had since i got this violin in 8th grade#which was. back in 2010. 15 years ago....#the violin overall is in perfectly fine shape. though i wonder if i should change the other strings at some point.#i changed the G because i had to. because it broke. the others are currently fine but hmmm#idk i'll pay attention to if they start sounding weird. the G was sounding weird before it snapped back then.#im also Pretty sure im suppsed to get the bow's hairs redone at some point... but it's still fine?? i think.#ive never been the type to press hard enough to snap hairs very often. though maybe thats not a good thing#idk im just. thinking#i really want to Stay in the habit of playing even after this semester ends.#it's felt like reconnecting with an old piece of my core identity. i was an active violinist from ages 11 through 19#and even in the time since then ive still Called myself a violinist. bc that kind of thing never leaves you.#my left arm is Still more flexible than my right one. can bend further up behind my back and everything.#but it's also... not the same as Actively playing. it feels right and wrong at the same time.#it feels *right* but it doesnt feel as natural as it used to. im too out of practice. fumbling fingers trying so hard.#trying to not get frustrated with myself when the person in front of me plays so beautifully without any hesitation.#im sleep deprived. and incredibly out of practice. but im taking measures to improve things.#the bridge will help i think. i kept getting thrown off by the sound today. on lower strings it almost sounded like smth was rattling.#and when i install the new bridge on saturday i will practice. until i at least know what im supposed to be playing.#i wont embarrass myself again. i will *not* be so lost next time. my pride as a violinist demands it.#i may be severely out of practice but i was once the 4th best violinist of my high school. i can get that good again.
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ellie figuring out unique ways to deadlift in jackson so she can get strong enough to give tommy piggyback rides >>>
#im just picturing her trying to do ut one day and completely failing#she insists she can do it!! its just the angle lets try again!!! and tommy is down for anything so#maria and joel just have to watch him and ellie fall to the ground for like an hour straight#ellie dedicates hserself to getting SWOL and starts a physical conditioning club at school#the millers#ellie#tommy#once she gets strong enough ppl in jackson just see a 15 years old piggybacking at 50ish year old man to the dining hall for dinner
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so yesterday i had someone comment on a post i made on IG telling me how "offended" they were because i'd simply ended my post with the phrase "end the occupation and free palestine." so much of what they said was actually insane racist islamophobic bullshit and they managed to end their comment by calling all muslims terrorists and literally parroted the "they want to kill americans" fucking horseshit.
the person that made this comment was by someone i've literally known since grade school. i'm not close friends with them but i've gotten to know them over the years and never once thought they'd say anything like this. i actually thought it was a bot account for like a full minute.
i'm sadly not surprised at the rhetoric because that's where we are. we're right back to twenty years ago during the post 9/11 / war in iraq / war on terror fervor kicked off. i'm just. i had to fight this shit twenty years ago and here we are all over again, except this time with the added benefit of fucking social media.
if simply saying "free palestine" is so inflammatory for you, then that is your fucking problem to work through.
#this person commented a couple more times after i called them out on their racist remarks#including trying to pull the 'you support baby killers' bullshit#to which i said if you really condemn the murder of children#then by god you'd better be condemning israel who's been murdering them all fucking year. and last year. and every year.#and now this person has sent me multiple DMs trying to backtrack their fucking bullshit#and i haven't even read all of them because i don't have the energy for that. i just don't.#like until you retract your racist bullshit and apologize for it#then i am not giving you the time of day#i don't know you guys#i am not ready for this bullshit all over again; i mean i think all last week i was experiencing some trauma response to it#and by that i mean i dealt with this 20 years ago when i was in high school when i was one of maybe five out of 1500 that actively spoke ou#i don't remember any of my classmates ever saying anything to me; or if they did they certainly backed down if i challenged them on it#it came from the adults in my life – including teachers#when you're 15 years old and literally called a terrorist simply because you stand up and say 'hey this is a bad idea'#and when you are constantly bombarded with commentary about how all middle eastern people and all muslims are terrorists because ... ????#and when you are watching people get harassed and assaulted every single day simply because they *might* be arab because the government ...#... and the media said it was okay to do that#i don't know i guess i never realized it'd affected me until i started seeing the EXACT. SAME. RHETORIC. used *today*#and i'm just a white girl in montana like i can't even fathom the depths of pain this brings on POC who deal with this daily for years#it's just so devastating to see how quickly everyone has jumped on this 'let's kill all the muslims and arabs' train ALL OVER AGAIN#and seeing the horrifying responses by governments to shut down any pro-palestine speech or detain anyone who fucking looks palestinian#like this is just so so so so so so so so so so so so so bad#AND I'M ANGRY AND TIRED AND I NEED TO FUCKING SCREAM AND I'D LIKE TO SCREAM AT BIDEN FOR SUPPORTING GENOCIDE#sorry this is such a personal dump#i just needed to get it out there for my mental health ahahaha man i don't even know#i've already lost two close friends because they were upset that a palestinian on the news didn't condemn hamas in the way they wanted#like they're literally only qualifying palestinians by how they condemn others and not listening to what they're trying to fucking tell you#which is that the occupation and forced displacement of palestinian people is the root cause
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gravity falls is so funny through robbie's pov
>be me, 15 year old emo in a bumfucknowhere town
>lives in a funeral home. my parents embalm bodies twenty feet and an entire wall away from where we cook dinner
>have a friend i want to be my girlfriend
>she starts hanging out with her boss' (???) twin niece and nephew outside of work hours even though they're like in elementary school
>friend becomes your girlfriend
>weird shit happens around these twins. conscience store ghosts, a weirdly pixelated adult man beating you up, your dirt bike gets stolen, your girlfriend's boss and his nephew make your gf break up with you???
>gets memories erased at some point
>suddenly in love with only other female friend, like instantly in love and it's like this came out of nowhere but she's so perfect and you loooooove her it's so great don't question why there's a part of you that doesn't remember ever actually falling in love with her. also those fucking twins had something to do with this again.
>apocalypse happens
>mfw im apparently part of a secret key of people that can save the world by holding hands but it gets fucked up last minute by your ex's boss fighting with his twin over grammar (did he always have a twin?? why are there so many twins??)
>the ritual you were a part of failed. you were supposed to be a special person and part of saving the world but nope. that failed.
>get turned into a statue
>apocalypse ends and you have no clue how or why
>things like immediately go back to normal
>still with girl you don't remember falling in love with
>the twins just fucking. leave the town. and now there's two of your ex girlfriend's bosses around. no one ever explains how or why any of this has happened. you still live in a funeral home.
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the fact that someone from seven whole years ago still terrorizes my brain is. it's something. i guess being accused by an 18-19 year old of being a proshipper and abuser multiple times when i was 15 actually did legitimate, long-term, traumatizing psychological damage to me (the night everything went down i hallucinated a full-blown, crystal-clear, terrifying face in the dark, due to the stress). who woulda thought. i don't know. i can't stop thinking about this situation from 2018 and i still just feel this awful fear like i can't escape this. image of myself. that is in people's heads. an image that i'm very different from nowadays. its funny in a bitter kind of way how different i am now, meanwhile last time i checked on this person ey're still doing this exact same thing to other people, just on a smaller scale. i want to heal from this already but my OCD will not let me. i'm stuck in it forever, it seems.
#got accused of dating someone 2 years younger than me because we had some characters get married in tomodachi life#got accused of being genocidal and racist because i said ''i wish there was a world with just me and my friends'' when i was a Child#got accused of being a proshipper because i wrote an angst fankid AU with an abusive rship between two characters i did not ship#got accused of being an abuser because... i don't actually know why. but it was repeated multiple times. i was still. a child.#this all started because i watched a video on transmed stuff and posted some of the talking points and instead of educating me abt it#this person just jumped into accusing me of every single thing ever and when this made me suicidal i got misgendered#and my abusive former school was contacted to report me (i said that this misgendering + borderline doxxing was aggressive)#(which is also racist apparently but i genuinely do not know what else i was supposed to call this behavior)#oh i was also stalked (the person found sideblogs of mine and would read through them) but if i checked to see if i was being posted abt#then i'm the evil stalker racist proshipper abuser who just needs to ''leave their victims alone'' (again i was 15 when this went down)#i dont know. i dont know why i keep thinking about this over and over again so many years later#or why i still have that fear in my chest even though i'm an adult now. i guess the fact that this person could still be thinking abt me#is just. really troubling. i keep thinking of what i could say if i ever had to defend myself again. but i feel like i'd just get scared.#just like every other time. idk. i can't imagine doing this to an 18-19 year old at my age. and i couldnt imagine doing it to a 15 year old#when i was 18-19. and you had the gall to say that i had POWER over you? that i ABUSED you? i wanted to get AWAY from you!!!#god why can't i just heal from this already? why does it still have to make me frightened after all this time? why can't i just LIVE?#evie.txt ♡
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really feeling the fomo with those last two posts arent i why now i wonder
#i get like this every so often#randomly reminded of years ago at school when i had classmates and stuff#what a bloody loser#nah seriously lying in bed in my old room at my parents feeling sorry for myself that i didnt make proper friends when i was 15#get a bloody life#not like this isnt why i never made any friends or anything#like you do have to make an actual effort not spend your time in bed on your phone#its literally the middle of the day#nah it is a bit weird being back here even though i go back most holidays and sometimes the weekend#but like no one i knew from then went to my uni or if they did i just dont know cause i havent seen them since#but likw it was in this town where i am now#i barely go out but over the whole time i think i only saw like two in town and we didnt really talk#like i dont even really want to? i dont know#its just something to comiserate about not that theres a solution that way#obvious solution would be to make friends when uni starts again not that i can be bothered#yeah and i wonder why im miserable bloody hell
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Hi everyone. Mohammed Khalil (@ahmed0khalil) has asked me to share his story, and I’m writing on his behalf. Mohammed created the donation campaign for his little brother 6-year-old Ahmed, and he aims to raise funds to evacuate his family of 8. You can see in his blog how much he loves and worries for 6-year-old Ahmed. Mohammed is only 19 years old. This is not normal. He should have been in school, not begging for our attention to try and raise enough funds so that they can buy food, water, medicine, and a chance to evacuate to safety.
In Gaza, where the sounds of bombing blend with the cries of children, Mohammed and Ahmed's family experienced days they never imagined they would endure. Mohammed (19) and Ahmed (6) have four other siblings: Fathi, Aya, Anas and Abdullah. Aya (21) is a uni nursing student and Anas (15) is also a school student. Neither of them can study anymore with the current genocide. This war is especially hard on Fathi (23), who is blind and suffering from coronary artery disease, Abdullah (11) who is autistic and does not understand what is happening, and Ahmed (6), a small child who had barely started kindergarten before his education came to a halt.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/463e1ef1ee4346fbd7fb88413621d140/2618838df564561e-94/s540x810/dd2937ff51bfdc7b922da793d43584ca324dda8c.jpg)
The destruction that struck the area left them with no place to live. The sounds of explosions fill the horizon, and the homes that once sheltered them have become piles of rubble. They suddenly found themselves outside their home, homeless.
The bombing not only destroyed their home, but also severely injured Mohammed. Mohammed was sitting at the entrance of the school his family was sheltering in when three bombs were dropped in front of him. The bombs destroyed a residential tower in front of Mohammed. Dust filled the air and the resulting rubble and shrapnel fell on Mohammed, injuring him in the leg. Mohammed was so severely wounded that he could not walk, and he had to lie there, hurt and bleeding, for 2 hours before the Palestinian Red Crescent came and carried him to the hospital.
The bombing shattered the glass in the school Mohammed and his family was staying at, but thankfully the children sustained no serious injuries. Soon after, they were asked to evacuate the school immediately as there were news that the IOF were going to bomb the Abbas prison near it. And so even though Mohammed was wounded, he could not rest and wait for his leg to heal, but had to leave again with his family.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a84e36b11cfe209f728869f28c44e80c/2618838df564561e-96/s540x810/f885d7638e84f4aa591f2cecee6ebf107d075c6d.jpg)
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Now they are living in a small tent in a refugee camp. Mohammed told me that they had to bathe in polluted water and the place smelled of sewage and corpses. Camp life was difficult not only because of the scarcity of food, the infectious disease, and the polluted water, but also because of the psychological torture they endure. Looking at all the devastation, and how the world seems indifferent to their suffering, Mohammed told me that they, including young innocent 6-year-old Ahmed, had begun to lose hope for a better future.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7c3c58d3871bf940543aa2134e77275c/2618838df564561e-a5/s540x810/4fc25ccc2d543c9799eb60a4cd42f04ed06faef3.jpg)
Internet is unstable and often lacking in the refugee camp. Mohammed is using the precious time when Internet is available to tell me his story. I hope you will not turn away their calls for help. They urgently need donations to provide for shelter, food, and medicine, as well as to evacuate out of Gaza. Donations are coming in really slowly for Mohammed’s campaign, and I beg all of you, please, don't turn a blind eye to his story.
Mohammed’s campaign has been shared by 90-ghost and I’ve also been talking extensively with him. He is a very nice person and he just really wants to help his family survive. Please, please, help Mohammed evacuate himself, his 5 siblings and his parents! Little 6-year-old Ahmed does not deserve to live in fear of falling bombs every day, and neither does Mohammed and the rest of his family.
Really low funds! Only €1,185 raised of €50,000 target!!
Please share/reblog and donate to help a family of 8! These are children we are talking about, and my heart breaks for what they have to endure.
Please follow Mohammed and Ahmed on @ahmed0khalil to get updates on their situation!
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Today, after 15 months of torment, displacement, and living in constant fear, my family and I find ourselves in an unbearably difficult situation. Life has become a daily struggle, and everything we once knew has turned to darkness. The impact of the genocidal war against Gaza has torn us apart, leaving us facing hunger, disease, and a deep sense of loss. Most devastating of all, my sister and I have been unable to attend school, robbing us of our dreams for a better future.
Now, as we prepare to return to northern Gaza, where our home once stood, we carry with us the immense weight of loss. Our home is destroyed, and the emotional and physical scars are deep. The pain is unbearable for my family and me, but despite it all, we have not lost hope. We still dare to dream of a brighter tomorrow—a future where we can rebuild what was taken from us. My personal dream is to continue my education and achieve the goals that have always been within my reach, but now it seems so far away.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/474d2e75f6668fe860021da4d0d33f04/6a5da37cb3264edf-1b/s540x810/253dcf32277483f00c6584fe13cf901f3b1cb42e.jpg)
However, the road to recovery is long and steep. The cost of rebuilding our lives is overwhelming. Everything we once relied on is either gone or too expensive to restore. The price of basic necessities—food, medicine, shelter—has skyrocketed. The infrastructure is shattered, and even getting the most basic supplies has become a daily challenge. The war has left us with nothing, and with the added financial strain, continuing our education feels impossible without help.
This is why I am reaching out. My family and I need your support now more than ever. We ask not for pity, but for your compassion, your prayers, and your belief in a brighter future for us. We need your help to lift us out of the darkness and give us a chance to rebuild. My sister and I can’t continue our studies without your assistance, and my family cannot start over without your support.
I am Ahmed, and I am asking for your help with the certainty that there are still people like you in this world who believe in second chances.
Please, help us rise again.
#free palestine#free gaza#gaza genocide#gazaunderattack#i stand with palestine#gazaunderfire#gaza strip#save palestine#all eyes on palestine#gaza gofundme#vacation#evacuation fund#gaza fundraiser#palestine fundraiser#high support needs#basic needs
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The Babysitter | Joel Miller x F!reader
hello :) first time writing/posting a pic in actual years (first time on this blog also). hope you enjoy. please leave some feed back!
pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader, no outbreak au! Sarah lives! slight age gap
summary: you baby sit for Joel and the two of you can't keep your hands off each other
warnings: slight age gap, dirty talk, babysitter kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, m!receiving oral, mentions of dicks... I think that's all
word count: 1.9
rating 18+
The sun had long faded in Austin, the only light in the Miller’s living room was coming from the floor lamp and the television, which was on but turned down low so you wouldn’t disturb Sarah. You had just put her to bed at Joel’s request. A short text sent to you earlier, knowing that you’d be babysitting a little longer than normal on Tuesday night.
Gonna be a late one. Sorry princess.
You’d simply given him a ‘thumbs up’, not really minding hanging out with your favorite 8 year old. Your afternoon had been wildly enjoyable with Sarah–she was way too mature for her age and it was probably inappropriate how much you considered her a friend, but whatever, you’ve had a stressful couple of weeks and she was one of the only bright spots. Well, her, and her incredibly attractive father that you sometimes hook up with.
Things with you and Joel were… how should you put it? Complicated?
You had started babysitting for Joel and Sarah during the first semester of your Master’s program at University of Texas, just a little over a year ago. You and Sarah fell into an easy routine–you would pick her up from school, help her with her homework, and give her some of the feminine energy she was surely missing with only having Joel and her Uncle Tommy around. And you really enjoyed it. You were never one for little kids, and at her age, you were certain she would be annoying as hell to deal with, but nope, Sarah Miller was intelligent and inquisitive, albeit a little headstrong. You admired her, and really respected Joel for doing his best practically on his own.
You and Joel also fell into an easy routine. One night of staying late and sharing beers led to you face down and ass up on his couch and having one of the best orgasms of your life. You both promised each other you would quit, not wanting to complicate anything since you and Sarah had such a close bond, but you quickly broke that promise, again and again and again.
After a few months of hooking up a couple nights a week, Joel told you he was seeing someone–Tess, an age appropriate mom from Sarah’s class and he wanted to pump the brakes on whatever it was the two of you were doing. You acquiesced, begrudgingly, but it was only a few weeks later that Joel said things didn’t work out and you ended up back in his bed, on his couch, and bent over the kitchen counter.
It wasn’t serious between the two of you. You had a lot going on with wrapping up the last semester of your Public Policy Master’s, and he was busy building his business and raising his daughter. But that doesn’t mean you would be opposed to something a little more serious developing. In fact, you were pretty sure you were in love with Joel. But he definitely didn’t need to know that.
You must’ve been completely zoned out as you didn’t hear Joel’s old pickup truck pull into his driveway before he entered his living room and called your name.
“Hey princess,” he said, that deep Texas drawl that made your insides melt flowing easily from his pouty lips. “How’s Sarah?”
“Perfect, as always.” You glanced up from the couch shooting a smile his way.
God, he loved your smile.
“She helped me make dinner and then we did her homework. I deep conditioned her hair, too,” you added. “You know, you gotta take her to a salon once in a while, Joel. You know, one that knows about black hair?” You had been bugging him that the 15-in-1 monstrosity he calls shampoo he and Tommy use would not work on Sarah’s curls.
Joel smirks to himself, absolutely loving the way you care about his daughter. “I’m workin’ on it, darlin’.”
A comfortable silence hits the room and Joel goes to his fridge to grab two beers. Your gaze is back on the TV, some old episode of Law & Order playing that barely has your attention.
“Where’s Tommy?” you ask, reaching for the beer without looking at him.
“Had a date.”
“Tommy Miller has a date? Now that is surprising.” You giggle as you take a sip of your beer. Joel tracks the way your throat looks as you swallow.
He takes his time to take in what you’re wearing. A sweater that tapers around your waist perfectly and a short black skirt. You look sexy, effortless. Joel realizes you always do. Like everything you wear is custom just for you.
“Is this how you dress for work, darlin’?” He lets his large fingers play with the edge of your skirt, barely grazing over your skin. “Kinda slutty,” he adds, smirking at your surprised face.
You school your features quickly and he knows he’s screwed by the sickeningly sweet smile that graces your face. You quickly place your beer on the coffee table in front of the couch and turn to face Joel. “Me? Slutty? No, Mr. Miller, I’m a good girl.”
Joel eyes you from head to toe so slowly that you feel little bursts of heat crawling over your skin. He frowns at you playfully, groaning exaggeratedly as he takes another draw from his beer. “Don’t know about that, princess. Good girls don’t wear slutty little skirts like this to work.” His hand slides up your skirt and grazes over the damp slit of your underwear before he tugs them down your legs. The low whistle he lets out sends a chill down your spine.
“And good girls definitely don’t wear tiny little panties like this to work.” He brings your thong to his nose, lewdly taking a deep inhale that only makes your wetness grow greater. “Dirty girl,” he sighs out. “Trying to seduce your boss?”
You moan at the sight of him, it was so debauched, so dirty, but it only made you more eager to fall into whatever role play this was.
“No, Mr. Miller, I would never try to seduce you. I promise I’m a good girl,” you plead. You watch as he absentmindedly toys with your damp thong, running his other hand over his growing bulge. You get an idea that’s going to drive Joel wild.
“Can I show you, Mr. Miller?” you ask, earning a quirked brow from Joel. “Can I show you just how good of a girl I am?”
Joel groans at how easily you fell into this dynamic tonight, not necessarily what he had planned when he came home. He spreads his legs and pats his thighs, “Yeah baby, show me how good you can be.”
You eagerly hop off the couch, taking a throw pillow with you and placing it on the ground and kneeling on it in between his legs. You let your hands rub across the tops of his thighs and give him a wide eyed look that he would almost call innocent if he didn’t know you better. You reach for the zipper of his jeans, grazing your fingers over his bulge before you pull his hard cock out and sigh dreamily. Joel definitely had the best looking dick you’ve ever seen.
Growing impatient at your slow pace, Joel grabs the back of your head and you instinctively stick your tongue out to lick at his tip. You groan at the heady taste of precum on the bulbous head. You slowly start to jerk him off, keeping your mouth only at his tip to tease him.
“You gonna show me how good little babysitter’s suck cock, princess?” he peers down at you, watching how your eyes flutter closed at his words.
You let out a needy whine. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”
You inhale deeply, making debauched eye contact with Joel before you take as much of him as you can down your throat. Joel was big–thick and long in a way that your friends swore you were exaggerating. You’ve taught yourself how to take him down your throat, proud that you were able to go from taking a meager 4 inches of him when you first started hooking up, to now being able to brush against his trimmed hair at the base.
You can taste the sweat from his work day on your tongue as you start to move up and down. Your cheeks hollow out to make a suction and drool is pooling from your mouth. You’re trying not to gag, but the sheer size of Joel makes it damn near impossible. He looks down at you, eyes filled with something a little more than lust as he watches you swallow his cock further into your throat. Spit bubbles are pooling at the side of your mouth and your eyes are glassy with unshed tears. He shuts his eyes tight trying to stave off his orgasm–wanting to enjoy you just a little while longer. You release him with a pop and jerk him off as you start sucking his balls.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Miller?” you ask teasingly, voice already sounding a little hoarse from the exertion.
He looks back down at you, willing himself not to cum. He hums and nods the best he can, scared words will be too much for him.
You shift on your knees, readjusting as you gear yourself up to take him again. Joel thrusts slightly into your mouth, fitting perfectly and you moan around him, the vibrations making him twitch in the back of your throat. You push him deeper into your throat and Joel places his hand on the back of your head in a way that’s less forceful, and more caring. Like he’s just reassuring you that he’s there. He’s making little grunts and moans and you can’t help but drool a mix of your spit and his precum down onto his balls.
You look up at him and see his brown eyes softly looking back down at you. Way too sweet for what you’re doing.
You’re getting sloppier and sloppier, veering towards cock drunk as Joel tells you he’s about to cum.
“Where d’ya want me, baby,” he slurs, in his own fucked out state.
You can’t let up now with Joel being so close to finishing. You bare down, deep throating him to a point that nearly makes you gag, but you will yourself to power through it. Joel starts to thrust into your warm, wet mouth before he moans a little too loud and spills his cum down your throat.
He’s so deep you barely taste him, only letting yourself up when you feel him relax underneath you.
You both catch your breaths for a moment and after a while, Joel pulls you up from your underarms and sets you over his lap. You almost forgot you weren’t wearing any underwear as your now soaking heat is pressed over his wet cock. Even soft it’s firm and thick.
“Fuck, baby,” he breathes heavily. Brown eyes looking down into yours before he kisses you sloppily, tasting himself on your tongue.
You smile appreciatively, dropping your head to his shoulder and smelling the remnants of his cologne from earlier in the day. You’re insanely horny now but happy nonetheless that you made him this fucked out, feeling a surge of confidence at the thought.
“So,” you start, your smile breaking the warm silence between you two, “am I a good girl?”
Joel laughs, rubbing absent minded circles on your back. He thinks he loves you. “Yeah, princess, you’re the best damn girl around.”
**if you made it this far please leave a like, comment, reblog or a dm with some feedback! I want to get back into writing so this was just me dusting off the cobwebs... ty :)
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#joel miller x reader#Joel miller au#Joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#Joel miller#joel tlou#tlou fic#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction
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I Hate You. | F.W.
summary: They had been friends since the moment they met, but what happens when she falls in love with him and he seems to blind to notice?
pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader
word count: 5718
warning(s): ends in smut
notes: I have not posted in quite some time, nor have I wrote anything in a long time. I tried to avoid the use of y/n. Fred calls her 'little red' or 'red' ocassionally, this is explained in the writing.
masterlist
Six years of friendship. Six years of falling for Fred Weasley, really. If she were to be honest with herself, she knew she loved him two years ago. It was just easier to ignore as a 15 year old girl. She initially tried to write it off as just feeling that way because they were so close already, but she knew that wasn’t true. She was just as close with his twin brother, George, and she wasn’t in love with him. Fred was different. They knew each other on a different level. They could be overly affectionate with each other. When she saw him at the platform this year, she ran to him and jumped into his arms and stayed there despite George whining that he hadn’t seen her in just as long. On the train ride, she fell asleep with her head in his lap whilst he and George started scheming their first prank of the school year. He would hush George any time she would start to stir, then gently play with her hair until she settled again. She had fallen asleep on George’s shoulder once, and swore to never do it again. Whilst he was also one of her best friends, he did not hold the same kind of soft spot for her as his twin did. He had used a spell to turn her hair bright green. She was livid when she realised. Poor George was afraid to turn his back to her for the next four months. She had waited six months for her revenge, perfecting the same colour changing spell, but turning all of his clothes pink.
Now at 17, her feelings were harder to hide. The pangs of jealousy at every Gryffindor party after a quidditch match when girls would shamelessly flirt with him. And he seemed to love it. Tonight was another one of those nights. Gryffindor had destroyed Slytherin on the quidditch pitch and were, of course, throwing their usual celebration. She sat next to George and Angelina on the couch, her eyes following Fred. Her gaze only left him as Julie came up to him and was heavily laying on the charm. She felt the jealousy bubbling in her like a failed potion about to go horribly wrong. She felt George shift and wrap an arm around her shoulder, giving her a slight squeeze. “Love, why don’t you talk to him?” Angelina asked, reaching over George to squeeze her hand. Her gaze moved from her knees to her two friends, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “I couldn’t possibly talk to him about this, Ang. I’d tell him everything and feel like an absolute git after.” She admitted, letting out another huff. George shook his head, opening his mouth to speak but quickly closing it. Ever since the start of the year, she had grown closer to George and his girlfriend, Angelina. Unfortunately, closer than she was with Fred. They were definitely still close, but something was different between them this year. And it wasn’t that she was head over heels in love with him. It was him that was keeping a distance between the two of them. Every year, she sat with them at the Gryffindor table. Her Ravenclaw robes made her stick out like a sore thumb in the sea of red, but Fred and George were her best friends. In fact, she only ever sat at her own houses’ table a handful of times. The sorting ceremony, the last day, and that couple of months last year when Fred had a girlfriend who absolutely hated her. She had friends in Ravenclaw, but she wasn’t as close to anyone as she was with Fred. George was a close second, but her and Fred always just clicked. They clicked from the first train ride to Hogwarts they ever had. They were nearly inseparable. If Fred wasn’t with George, he was with her, or they were all together. She spent a few weeks with the Weasley’s every summer. Molly was like her second mother at this point. She loved spending time with all of them. She loved answering all of Arthur’s questions about the muggle world. She loved hanging out with Ginny, the only other girl around her age in the Weasley household. It was usually the highlight of her summer.
A loud cheering pulled her attention away from her two friends as they all turned to the source of the noise. It felt like her heart shattered into dust. Don’t cry. Do not cry. Not here. “I-, I have to go.” She quickly stammered, slipping away from her friends and blinking back tears. There he was. Fingers tangled in Julie’s hair, kissing her passionately. She tried to keep her head down as she pushed towards the door. She knew better, but she looked up anyway. Another stab to the heart. Her tear-filled gaze met the eyes of Fred Weasley. Fred Weasley, best friend, heartbreaker. She tore her gaze from his and moved as quickly as she could without running. She pushed out of the door, finally letting a tear fall as the door shut behind her. She could’ve swore she heard George yelling at his twin as she stepped out, but she could be wrong. She stood in the hall for a moment, unsure of what to do. Her feet were moving before she registered that she was moving. She knew Fred, she knew he would try to come after her. He was her best friend, after all. Part of her wished he would push through the door, catch up to her and wrap her in his arms. The other part of her, the hurt, told her to stop hoping he would feel the same way. Though, he would ask George what happened first, which bought her some time, yet not enough to get to her common room before he caught up with her. Even if she ran, he could easily catch up to her. Before she knew it, she was standing in the middle of the hall, watching the door to the room of requirements take shape. She heard him calling her name, and heard his footsteps. She didn’t want him to see her like this, not right now. Not when it was so fresh. She shouldn’t be crying. They were only friends, she was the one hopelessly in love with him. She reached for the doorknob, sliding into the room and quickly shutting the door behind her. Merlin, please let the door disappear before he gets down here. She slid down the wall next to the door. How absolutely foolish could she be? Her and Fred would never happen. It was clear at this point. She was terrified that if she told him how she felt, it would ruin their friendship. Not only would she be heartbroken, but she would lose her best friend too.
She had no idea how long she sat there for. Maybe an hour? Maybe two? It took nearly another hour before she gathered the courage to leave. Even if he had seen her, she doubted he would’ve waited for her. Maybe two years ago, but not now. Not with this weird distance between them. Definitely not after close to three hours of her hiding. She could still confidently say that Fred was her best friend, but it was different. It wasn’t like before. They weren’t joined at the hip anymore. This summer made that clear. She spent most of her time with Ginny and Molly. The few times they had spent together went from comfortable and playful to awkward. There were moments when it felt like he may also feel the same way about her, but he always seemed to pull away a little more after. She could’ve sworn he was going to kiss her one night, her heart felt like it was beating in her throat. But he just cleared his throat and awkwardly scratched the back of his head as he took a step back from her. Maybe she should’ve just kissed him then, and let whatever would happen just happen. At least she would’ve known how he felt. She might have lost her best friend, but she wouldn’t constantly feel this hurt and jealousy.
She pressed on the wall, waiting for the door to appear to make her exit. She slowly pushed the door open, only then realising she should have left from the other side of the room. There he was. That beautiful, heartbreaking idiot. His head leaned back against the wall, mouth slightly open as he slept. She realised she really had been in there for much longer than she thought and it was a miracle Fred hadn’t been found by Filch or Mrs. Norris. She kneeled in front of him, resting her hands on his knees. “Freddie.” She whispered lightly, pushing against his knees to hopefully wake him, but she knew he could sleep through the whole castle crumbling to the ground. “Freddie!” She whisper-yelled, shaking him harder, earning a groan from him. “Fred Gideon Weasley, get up before Filch comes and kills us both!” She whispered harshly, causing Fred to finally open his eyes. His sleepy gaze quickly turned to a soft look when he took her in. She knew her eyes had to be slightly puffy and her nose was red. It always turned red after she cried, and she hated it. She also hated that Fred always knew when she was upset or had been crying, and he always knew exactly how to make her feel better. Whether she needed a hug, or to be held, or if he needed to go to ridiculous measures just to make her laugh. Fred reached out and pulled her to him, stretching his legs out so she was in his lap. She fell forward against him as he hugged her. She let her head rest against his chest, feeling tears threaten to fill her eyes again. “C’mon little red.” He whispered, moving to get up. “I don’t have red hair.” She mumbled, she didn’t know where the nickname had come from. Fred had just started calling her it one day. The only answer for why she ever got was that she was now an honorary Weasley and she was tiny. It used to annoy her to no end, which is probably why it stuck. Fred loved getting reactions out of her, because even if something annoyed her when it came to him, she secretly loved it. It was like he knew it.
She walked next to him, keeping her head down. She watched her feet as she walked. She wasn’t paying attention, she just let him lead the way. She figured they would go to his dorm. It was the closest and safest bet. The chances of not getting caught on the way to her common room were slim to none. It was way too late to even consider being out of the common room, everyone was most likely asleep by now. She knew they were entering the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady had long ago stopped putting up a fight about her being snuck into the common room after hours. It happened so often that it wasn’t worth it. She didn’t bother to look up, just followed Fred to the stairs. The floor was a mess and she was afraid to look up. She didn’t want to relive her most recent memory in this room. She followed Fred into his dorm, noting that it was empty. He shared a room with George and Oliver Wood. Neither of the other two boys were here. She stood there silently as Fred moved around. He pulled out a jumper and handed it to her, turning around for her to change. The normalcy of this pained her. She knew Fred had seen her almost completely naked. He had stayed with her when she was sick last year. She had a fever that wouldn’t break and she had stripped out of her shirt and pyjama shorts in her sleep- with Fred sharing the same bed. She pulled the jumper over her head before pulling her jeans off. The jumper hung down to her knees, Fred was nearly a foot taller than her, if not more. She didn’t say anything as she climbed into his bed, only huffing as she rolled over to face away from him.
She felt his weight as he slid into his bed, turning to face her back. “George told me what happened. She kissed me, and I didn’t…” He whispered so quietly she could barely hear him. Her whole body seemed to tense as she registered what he said. Of course George told him. Bloody hell. She felt Fred’s hand brush over her arm. He grabbed her shoulder, gently trying to turn her to him. She fought him on it, but it was no use. He was stronger than she was, no matter how determined she was to keep her back to him. “You know you can tell me anything. Hell, you’re my best friend.” Fred whispered, his eyes on her face. She stared at the ceiling, feeling tears well in her eyes again. “That’s the problem, Freddie. I’m your best friend.” Her whisper was soft, not trusting herself to speak without starting to cry again. “And I hate it.” She finished, closing her eyes tightly to press the tears back. She could still feel his eyes on her, but she knew she couldn’t look at him. She knew she would break. She knew he would hold her until she either calmed down or fell asleep. Merlin’s beard, they were more than just friends. Friends don’t do this. Friends don’t share a bed. Friends don’t sleep in nothing but the others jumper and their underwear and cuddle. Friends don’t wake up wrapped in each other's arms. Friends don’t cling to each other the way they usually do. She loved George like a brother, he was one of her closest friends. Her and George are not friends like she and Fred are. She felt a tear squeeze its way from her eye. She let out a shaky sigh as she felt Fred brush it away with his thumb. He pulled her into him and she hated him for it. She hated him at that moment. She hated that he made her hurt, but he was the only one that could make her feel better. A sob escaped her lips as the tears began to fall. “I hate you. I hate that you’re so damn oblivious to me. All I am is your best friend and I’ve been in love with you for two years, you idiot.” She cried into his chest. He cradled her head with one arm and pulled her closer with the other, holding her there as she cried. “I’m sorry, Red, I-i didn’t know.” He held her tighter, placing a kiss on the top of her head. His fingers drew circles on her back as her cries slowly stopped. He hadn’t realised she had fallen asleep until her grip on his shirt slowly loosened.
She woke up pressed to Fred’s chest and her legs tangled in his. His fingers were drawing slow shapes on her side. God she was still so hurt. The image of him kissing Julie replaying in her head. She went to pull away from him, only to be pulled against him tighter. “Let me go.” She mumbled, pushing against him again. “No can do, doll.” He mumbled back. “I still hate you.” She bit back, trying her best to ignore the comfort she felt being pressed against. “You don’t mean that.” His voice was gentle. He was used to her little fits. She had told him multiple times over the years that she hated him. The first time when he accidentally broke her brand new quill that her father had sent her as a gift when she found a new hobby of writing. It was their second year. He had saved up anything he could get until Christmas that year to buy her the same one. She had cried then too, but those were happy tears. She had told him she hated him the day he told her that he couldn’t come see her that summer, that was year three. Then she wrote to his mother and asked if she could come there to see him and George. Of course, Molly said yes. She was so delighted to finally meet the twin’s best friend. She was glad they finally had someone to level out their antics, but that didn’t last long. They were always up to something. She had told him three times in year four that she hated him. Once was when he had her pinned down and was mercilessly tickling her. She gasped it out between laughs. She even used his full name. He couldn’t help but smile, only to stop tickling when she rushed out that she was going to pee her pants if he didn’t stop. But he kept jumping at her, pretending he was going to tickle her again. The second time was when he was dating Hannah. They had gotten into a fight, screaming at each other. She was sad because she felt like she was losing Fred as a friend because Hannah hated her. And he called her bitter and jealous that she had never had a boyfriend. It was then that she told him she hated him. He could see the hurt in her eyes. That was the first time it truly hurt when she said she hated him. It felt like she meant it that time. The third time was towards the end of the year. They had made up and were thicker than thieves once again. She had conned him into going to the library to study. He was messing around the whole time and trying to make her laugh. He took it a little too far, accidentally hitting her inkwell. It shot across the table, they both moved to catch it and they both missed. It had spilled all over her skirt. She said she hated him then and told him he was lucky he was her best friend, otherwise he’d have to buy her a new skirt. Last year, year five, there were odd bits of distance between them, but when he thought about it, they weren’t odd. They were distant every time he had a girlfriend or was chasing after some girl. He had been slightly jealous of George since last year. She seemed to latch on to him, but it all made sense. She was distancing herself to protect herself and George was there for her, probably to tell her that Fred was an idiot and he’d come around one day.
“Look at me.” He said as he rolled on to his side, sliding her off his chest. She stared at his chest, not meeting his gaze. “I am.” She mumbled and he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Her full name left his lips as he gently pushed her chin up to force her to look at him, but she kept her eyes trained on his chest. “I swear, you are so stubborn that I wonder how you weren't sorted into Gryffindor.” She looked up at him, eyes narrowed. “What Fred? What do you want? I don’t care if she kissed you. You didn’t have to kiss her back.” She bit out. He had to hide his smirk. If she wasn’t so upset with him, he knew she would’ve rolled her eyes and made a ridiculous comment on how she was surprised he wasn’t sorted into Slytherin. He suddenly missed her jests, wishing he could rewind to before the party. George had told him that someone they knew was pining after him. He just didn’t think it would be his best friend. But then again, how could it not be? They spent most of their time together, either alone or with George. If he wasn’t with George, he was with her. People often commented on them acting like a couple. Fred would walk her to class, arm slung around her shoulder. “I’m an idiot-” He started, only to be cut off by her. “I know you are. You’re the biggest idiot I know.” She tried to hold her glare, fighting a small smile. “C’mon, little red, let me finish.” He raised his brow as she opened her mouth to talk then closed it. She let out a sigh, waiting for him to continue. “You say I’m the biggest idiot you know, which may be true. But I’m the most handsome idiot you know.” He paused as a small smile tugged at her lips. “I’m an idiot, I’m sorry. You could’ve just told me. Could’ve said ‘hey, you big, handsome, idiot, I love you’.” He paused again, reaching up and tucking her hair behind her ear. “I would’ve said, ‘hey, little red, I love you too’.”
“Stop calling me that.” she mumbled and Fred let out an exasperated noise. He noticed the small smile playing on her lips. “I still hate you, at least for the next five minutes.” Her voice was much softer this time. “You’re so stubborn.” he mumbled, smiling when he felt her fingers grasp his shirt. “And you’re an idiot for not kissing me.” She mumbled, her gaze still locked with his. He slowly leaned in, his nose brushing hers as her eyes fluttered shut. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.” She whispered as he leaned in. Her lips just barely brushing his as she spoke. He paused for a moment. He knew she had never dated anyone, but he didn’t think she had never kissed anyone before. He closed the gap, gently kissing her. The kiss was slow and soft, until she took him by surprise when she nipped his bottom lip. He groaned, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss. “Never kissed anyone before, unbelievable.” He mumbled against her lips. She pulled on his shirt in a futile attempt to get closer than they already were. It was when she slid her hand up her chest and around his shoulder up to his hair that the door to his dorm opened. He reluctantly broke the kiss, looking up to see George standing in the doorway. “Well, I was coming to tell you that no one has seen our little friend here since last night, but I see you’re snogging her.” George grins. You roll over at his comment, turning to look at him. George winks at you and then turns his attention back to Fred. “I am now obligated to help her hide your body, doesn’t matter that you’re my brother.” George states, causing her to laugh.
“George, leave. Please.” Fred groans. “I think he should stay. This is fun. Hey, Georgie, isn’t Fred the biggest idiot you know?” She asks, smiling sweetly at Fred. “That’s likely!”
After George had left, they spent the entire morning in bed. Fred stealing kisses from her when she wasn’t dozing back off. “Freddie?” She whispered, curled into his side, her head laying on his chest. He hummed an acknowledgement. “Did you mean it?” She asked, her fingers grasping his shirt again. A small chuckle came from him as he squeezed her to him. “I love you, I have for some time. You’re also my best friend and I didn’t want to lose you.” He said, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you, you big, handsome idiot.” She said as she lifted her head to look at him. “Don’t think I won’t ask George to help hide your body.” She grinned as he laughed.
The rest of the year seemed to breeze by. Two months of Fred pulling her into random broom closets between classes and sneaking into the room of requirements before curfew. Countless nights spent in there, hidden away among the mess. Before she knew it, everyone was packing and getting ready to leave for the summer.
“Fred, I’m too tired, carry me.” She whined as he gently woke her when the train finally stopped at the station. He let out a sigh as George laughed at him, shaking his head. She was going to the Weasley’s for the summer as her parents were away until November. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, looking up at Fred. “After we get off the train, then I’ll think about it.” He reached a hand out to her, helping her up. The journey to the Weasley’s was rather quick. They travelled through the floo system. She dramatically collapsed into Fred’s arms when they got back. “So tired.” she mumbled. “You’re going to kill me.” He laughed, picking her up. This wasn’t entirely unusual for the two of them. Everyone was used to Fred and her clinging to each other. Molly would often give Fred a knowing look when she would walk into the den, finding her sleeping with her head in his lap or curled up against him. Molly also knew that, most nights, if she were to peek into Fred’s room, she would find the two of them together. She often heard them talking in loud whispers and trying to hide their laughter in the middle of the night. It didn’t dawn on her that only a handful of them knew they were together, not until George opened his mouth. “Hey ma, did you know that Freddie has a girlfriend?” A groan left Fred as he stared his twin down. She buried her face in his chest, trying to ignore the slew of reactions from the older Weasleys. Molly was utterly delighted, commenting on how she was surprised that it took this long.
The days seemed to fly by spending them in the Weasley household. Lots of stolen kisses and sneaking around. It wasn't until mid-July that her and Fred were alone in the house together. Everyone had gone out for one reason or another and it was just the two of them. They spent the morning in Fred’s bed, tangled together. She was constantly falling back asleep and Fred was just content to hold her. It wasn’t until she was the one to lean up and kiss him that the day seemed to take a slight turn. They had shared a bed countless times, kissing had almost turned into more countless times as well. But this kiss was needy and built a fire in the both of them. She started the kiss. It was soft, loving at first. Then she nipped his bottom lip and a groan left his lips. His fingers dug into her hips, the feeling giving her the courage she needed in the moment. She moved to straddle him. His hand pushed up the jumper she stole from him, revealing her bare thighs. She really would be the death of him. She never seemed to wear pants. Just his shirt and a pair of panties, she was a constant tease seemingly unknowing to the fact. The kiss was still innocent enough, until she ground her hips down on his. The almost whiny moan that left her lips had him flipping them over. His lips trailed down her neck, nipping and sucking at the skin, most likely leaving marks in his wake. The sounds that left her lips were driving him wild. “You’re killing me.” He mumbled against her neck. His hands slid around her body. He gripped her hips before sliding a hand up her shirt. His fingers pinched and rolled her nipple, a lewd moan leaving her lips.
“Freddie, please.” She whined, pushing her hips up against his for any sort of friction. She tugged at his shirt, pulling it up until he reached up to pull it over his head. He leaned down, capturing her lips with his. She deepened the kiss, swiping her tongue against his bottom lip. He still found it hard to believe she had never kissed anyone before him. Not when she kissed him like this. She continued to grind her hips against his, moaning into the kiss. Her hands slid down his chest, her fingers hooking under the waistband of his pyjamas pants. She started to push them down when Fred broke this. “Baby-” He started only to be cut off by her leaning up and kissing him again. He knew she was virgin, while he may not be, he didn’t want her to feel like she had to do this. He was content just being with her. “Freddie, please. I want you. I-,” She paused, looking up to meet his eyes. “I want you to be my first.” Her breathy proclamation almost made him groan, but it was her reaching down and palming him through his pants that made a groan fall from his lips. Fred reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it off and tossing it on the floor. His eyes dragged over her body. She was perfect. “So pretty, baby.” He groaned, she would’ve thought he was talking to himself until his eyes met hers. His hands slid from her hips and over her stomach before he leaned down, kissing down her neck to her navel. It was then that her nerves started to build up. His lips pressed to her hip as he looked up at her. “If you want to stop, we will. At any point, baby.” He nipped at her hip as he pulled her panties down. She felt her cheeks flush, suddenly feeling exposed. Fred’s hands sliding up her legs seemed to calm her nerves. He pressed a kiss to her knee first, then trailed kisses down her inner thigh. It was the kiss that he placed closest to her sex that had the first moan falling from her lips. She gasped when she felt his tongue against her clit. He slowly added more pressure as he worked her clit. She didn't know how much more she could take, every pass of his tongue on her was overwhelming. Her hips bucked into his face. She was sure if she wasn’t so consumed by the building warmth in her abdomen that she would have been embarrassed. His name fell from her lips as he slowly worked a finger into her. His pace was painfully slow but every move made her feel like he already knew her body better than she ever could. It wasn’t until he worked a second finger into her and sucked her clit between his lips that she felt like she was falling apart. His name left her lips in succession until all she could do was moan. She moved her hips against his fingers, riding out her orgasm.
“Please, Freddie, I need you inside of me.” She let out a breathy whine. This girl would really be the death of him. He turned his head, leaving a hickey on the inside of her thigh. His lips were on hers in an instant. When she reached to push his pants down, this time he let her. He deepened the kiss, running his tongue along her bottom lip. He slipped his tongue against hers, taking his time kissing her. He ground into her, sliding his dick through her folds. He teased her with his tip before gently pushing into her. She gasped into his mouth, her body tensing at the intrusion. “Relax, baby, okay?” He whispered, kissing her jaw. He didn’t move his hips, but his hand snaked between them. His thumb pressed against her clit, causing another gasp to leave her lips. He continued to toy with her clit as she looked up at him. The look in her eyes as a quiet moan fell from her lips had his resolve wavering. It was when the next breathy moan fell from her lips that she took him by surprise. She pushed her hips up, taking more of him in. His ministrations continued as he tried to ease any of her discomfort with pleasure. She rolled her hips into his, fucking herself like she had done on his fingers. Fred moved his other hand to her hip, holding her hips in place. It was then that he pushed into her until she took all of him in. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, her nose, then her lips. The kiss was slow, gentle as he gave her time to adjust. She broke the kiss, brushing her nose against his. “Freddie.” His name left her lips in a breathy moan as she pushed against him. His thrusts were shallow at first, his forehead resting against hers. They moved slowly together, quiet moans falling from her lips. His name fell from her lips as he thrusted into her harder, faster. Her hands ran up his back, her nails digging into his skin as she gripped his shoulders. “O-oh, Freddie.” She gasped, tilting her head up to press her lips to his. She could feel her orgasm building again when he slid a hand between them, pressing his thumb to her clit. Fred could feel himself getting close to the edge.
“Fuck, baby, cum for me.” He groaned against her skin. His thumb pressed into her clit harder, circling until she threw her head back. His name fell from her lips, her nails digging into his back. The feeling of her walls clenching and spasming around him as she came sent him over the edge. Her name fell from his lips as he pressed his forehead to hers. “I love you, Freddie.” Her voice was a whisper. She leaned up to steal a quick kiss from his lips before he could speak. “I love you.” He mumbled between kisses.
They spent the next few hours tangled in each other, whispering sweet nothings, and her dozing off a few times. Fred woke her when he heard the first noises in the den below. Fred scrambled to find his clothes as she waltzed around his room to find hers. She pulled on a pair of leggings and his jumper. Her fingers slid across his sides as he pulled his shirt on. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against him. His arms snaked around her, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
#harry potter#one shots#one shot#imagines#fred weasley one shot#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley imagines#fred weasley#fred weasley smut#fred weasly x reader#fred wealsey fic#fred weasely x y/n#iiwontgiveuponmilkk
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High-school Sweetheart
Charles x fem!reader
From this request
Summary: You had been dating Charles since high school, and you had just gotten engaged this year. Of course, that's what everyone thought; in fact, it had been four years since you got married.
A/n:No proofread was made. But i loveeeee this theme.
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Actually, it had been almost four years since you married Charles. You were 15 and he was 17 when you first met and started dating in high school. You've been dating ever since. Of course, when you turned 20 or 22, both of you thought it was a very good decision to vow not to leave each other and got married in court. You woke up on a Monday, went to court, and got married. Only two people knew about this: Charles' older brother, Lorenzo, and his best friend, Pierre. Since you started living together after high school, no one actually noticed anything.
You were very close to his family, and people regarded your relationship as a real fairy tale. Arthur was even always joking about how he was still surprised that his brother hadn’t lost you.
This year, you were officially engaged to Charles. You were now 24 years old, and Charles was 26 years old. It actually made you very happy to finally be able to wear the ring given to you by your husband of 4 years. As usual, you were sitting and having Sunday breakfast with Charles's family and your friends, having a good time. You were helping Charles's mother, Pascale, in the kitchen with Kika. As you returned to the table with plates in your hands, you walked up to the men to call them from the poolside. Charles stood up, smiling, and placed his arms around you, kissing your cheek.
""How's my beautiful wife?" Forgetting that the others thought you two were engaged, you smiled and hugged Charles back. Arthur spoke as he stood behind you, "Soon-to-be wife. Charles, you immediately got into the mood." He laughed. As Charles looked at you lovingly and brushed your hair out of your face, he raised an eyebrow at Arthur and spoke over his shoulder, "What makes you think she's not my wife?" You narrowed your eyes and gently tapped Charles on the shoulder. Arthur frowned. "The fact that you just got engaged?"
Charles and you looked at each other and laughed. Pierre stood watching the events nervously. "Here we go," he said while rubbing his face. While Pierre was holding Arthur, who looked surprised, by the shoulders and walking him to the table, Arthur objected, "What do you mean, Charles? Wait a second...." Charles held your hands and led you to the table. Pascale got angry at Arthur in French and then turned to Charles. "What did you say to your brother again? Now the boy won't be silent all day."
This time, Pierre hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Oh no," he groaned. You smiled softly at Charles. "Tell them," you shrugged. Charles walked behind you and put his hands on your shoulders. "Y/N and I have actually been married for four years." Everyone looked at the two of you in shock. Arthur fell off his chair. Lorenzo was trying not to look at anyone while stuffing bread into his mouth. Pascale turned to him. "You knew about this!" she exclaimed. As Pierre slowly turned his back to the table, Kika pinched him. Pascale looked at Pierre this time. "You too?!" she asked in disbelief.
"We were the only ones who didn't know!" Of course, though they were shocked at first, they were actually very happy. Both approached Pascale, hugged her, kissed her, and tried to win her heart. Pascale still kept telling you that they were going to have a beautiful wedding, then she smiled at the two of you.
#violetszone#f1 imagine#f1 blurb#f1 smut#f1 fluff#violetszonerequest#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc instagram au#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc f1#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc#f1 one shot#f1 x reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x reader
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Hello, my fellow humans,
This is Darine, marking the first anniversary of this relentless war of death, destruction, and displacement.
Today, I received the first video of what remains of our home. As you can see, there’s not much left. But that’s not the main tragedy. The greater fear is that we might never see it again. The possibility looms that they plan to seize the entire north,possibly forcing us to relocate to the Sinai desert 💔.
My 19-year-old brother "Ahmed", who had just started his first year of college, and my sisters, 16 Nadine, 13 Judi, and 8 Maryam, are now enduring their second year without proper schooling. Two years of education stolen from them.
How is it possible that, in the third decade of the 21st century, such devastation is allowed to happen?😔😔😔
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✅️Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #15 )✅️
⬇️⬇️ Donate here ⬇️⬇️
https://gofund.me/9abc6640
#free gaza#free palestine#gaza#gaza strip#i stand with palestine#vetted gfm#italy#artists on tumblr#gaza genocide#logan howlett#gazavetters
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Sae Niijima is such a good character it drives me insane a little. She's not a mother nor a maternal or doting older sister but instead a twenty four year old who was thrown into a position of responsibility that she never asked for. She loves Makoto just as much as she resents her and its so apparent every time they talk up until November. "Are you studying?" (I want you to do well) (I need you to get a job and stop making my life harder) "I'll use any method necessary to get this promotion" (Life will be easier for us) (So stop distracting me with your problems) "Focus on your future" (I know that you're capable) (I can't afford to waste my time on you, so stop wasting time on others)
Makoto is not only the sole reason she pushes as hard as she does for a promotion, for success, and the reason that she loses herself in her animosity over her fathers death, but also someone she can't stand for so long. Makoto was 14-15 when their father died. Sae was 21. As soon as she got the career she wanted and things started to look up, her stability was robbed from her and she was disillusioned with the system that her father had taught her to rely on and completely adhere to. How do you manage, the daughter of a cop, following his footsteps towards law enforcement, when you're suddenly reminded of how unfair it is? You can't quit, your little sister relies on you and she's so young and struggling just as badly with this grief. So you pick yourself up and you get moving again. You push harder, press further. You abandon your morals and your ethics because punishing criminals (guilty or not) is almost like punishing the man who killed your father.
And the whole time she's fighting for promotions, going for drinks with the SIU Director to make herself more favourable for promotions, trying to navigate being a woman in a competitive, suffocating, male-dominated field, falling behind despite doing so much where others are promoted for doing so little - all the while your little sister comes back from school and her biggest issues are so small compared to yours.
Persona 5 revolves so heavily around grief and loss and change and Sae embodies all of that so well, all of the sharp and unpleasant and jagged parts of grief.
#sae niijima#persona brainrot real#idk what possessed me for this i jsut love her#beyond her being rlly hot and such a driven and compelling character#the way that we see her on screen is so heavily shaped and influenced by grief that its almost crushing when you notice it#she focuses on work because if she falls behind it could cost her and her sister everything#yet she lives in her fathers house. works a job her father would be proud of. is praised through her proximity to her father.#her sister idolises her and relies on her like a parent. sae was never supposed to be that to her#how am i meant to be your mother and your father? how am i meant to be the source of stability in your life when im not stable in mine#and the whole time your little sister sits there and where shes actually putting on a brave face and forcing through her own grief#struggling to put a life without her father into perspective#to you she just looks ... complacent. willfully ignorant to the situation that you're both in and the struggles you're both facing#why WOULDNT you hate her?#and then you realise that shes not ignorant. shes not as stupid or as oblivious as you thought#every time she was being distracting and asking pointless questions she was just reaching out to you#and each time you had to push her hand away and tell her not now. focus. study.#they drive me insane actually#persona 5#p5r#persona 5 royal#makoto niijima
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Dead on Main Soulmate AU [Part 2]
In this AU everyone is born with a tiny red heart tattooed on the inside of their wrist. If you're close to your soulmate the heart will beat, and when you meet them the heart turns to gold. If your soulmate dies, the heart will fade to black.
First part | Next part | Masterpost
CW: Brief mention of suicidal thoughts, take care everyone!
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Danny is 15 years old when he's informed that he is the crown prince of the Infinite Realms. He would have loved it if someone had had the decency to explain that the title of Ghost King would be passed down through right of conquest sometime before he fought Pariah Dark. If not that, couldn't someone at least have said something a bit sooner?
Now Danny had been faced with the information that he was ghost royalty out of nowhere, and that's just not something he was prepared to deal with on a random Tuesday afternoon.
As Danny paces the length of his bedroom he chooses to ignore Tucker's pointed reminder of "It's a Wednesday."
Instead of responding, he shoots a tiny ecto-blast at where his friend is lounging in the beanbag, which is easily dodged. Not that it would have hit, whenever Danny was aiming at one of his human friends me made sure to channel his dad and aim almost a full foot away from them, just to be safe.
He may be annoyed with Tucker's lack of sympathy about his situation, but he would never purposefully hurt him. Still, a warning shot when Tucker got extra cheeky wouldn't hurt anyone.
The other boy let out an affronted squawk as he dodged the blast, but wisely stayed silent after that.
Danny continued his pacing for another moment, but before he could start his frustrated rambling again Sam spoke up from Danny's bed, she hadn't even looked up from her phone for the whole time Danny had been ranting.
"It's not that big of a deal Danny, the council have been dealing with things just fine up until now, I'm sure they'll handle things until you're ready."
It was true, he knew that the council would continue to run the realms, and allow Danny to ease into the role.
The thing was, he was hoping that "ready" would mean he was at least of legal age. But no, ghosts saw time and age differently of course, they were satisfied as long as he was at least sixteen. Which he would turn in a few months.
In a desperate attempt to postpone the coronation (because Danny was not ready to become king of an infinite dimension yet, holy shit, he had convinced the council that it would be in their best interest to wait until the summer after Danny turned sixteen.
Danny still had to go to school after all, and the thought of having one measly weekend to be crowned before having to return to the halls of Casper High was not one that excited him.
The council had agreed to wait until summer. Danny wasn't overly happy that he'd still only have two months to adjust, but he'd take what he could get at this point.
He was not looking forward to starting his junior year, to say the least.
As if his looming coronation wasn't enough, now that Danny was aware of his title as crown prince, he suddenly had a bunch of new responsibilities. Supposedly, it was to prepare him for being king. Danny found it tedious at best, but he hadn't found a way to get out of it so far.
Luckily, as long as no ghost caused too much trouble Danny didn't have much to worry about.
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A ghost was causing too much trouble, enough that Danny got called in to deal with it.
At first he'd been salty that he had to ditch Sam and Tucker last minute for some stupid job that surely someone else could do. But once he heard what the job was, he was for once glad that he was dealing with it himself.
The situation was delicate, and Danny wouldn't trust a lot of ghost to handle it carefully enough.
An annoying ghost whose name Danny hadn't bothered to fully remember (Wi.. Fin.. Vin..ca.. something or other, not important) had decided to head to the human realm to take revenge for their death.
Now, if Danny tried to stop every ghost that ever tried to avenge their own death he'd never get to rest. A ghost's death was such a personal matter too, Danny didn't feel like he had any right to step in and say what's right or wrong for them to do.
So, in nearly all cases he stayed out of it. A lot of ghosts were happy to avenge their deaths in non-violent ways. Some time spent haunting their murderer, scaring them shitless, and most ghosts were satisfied. Not enough to move on, revenge was rarely enough for that, but enough to exist peacefully in the Realms.
That was all fine in Danny's book, but this particular ghost (Danny mentally dubbed them "Vi" when he failed to remember their full name) had decided that violence was the only answer.
The thing was, they blamed the wrong people. Vi had been a citizen of Gotham when they were alive, and they got caught up in some bad business. That had eventually led to their death.
It wasn't any one person's fault, but Vi blamed the Gotham vigilantes. From what Danny knew, Vi had been running away from said vigilantes, not wanting to be arrested, and had died because they were too focused on avoiding the vigilantes to pay attention to their surroundings.
The details of their death beyond that was not something Danny knew, he had listened to the necessary details from Clockwork before he left, but he didn't like learning exactly how other ghosts died unless they tell him themselves, it felt too personal.
All he needed to know was, the actions of the Gotham vigilantes had indirectly caused Vi's death, so they were on their way to Gotham to take revenge. That was bad, on so many levels.
The absolute last thing Danny needed was The Batman getting interested in ghosts. Danny had done a great job of managing without his or anyone else's help so far, and he really didn't want them poking their noses into his business now.
That was why Danny was speeding towards Gotham City, hoping to get there before Vi managed to track down a vigilante, as he was sure they didn't have any ways to defend themselves against ghosts.
After flying at nearly top speed for half an hour, Danny finally arrived. Not that long if you think about it, but plenty of time for a vengeful ghost to track down their targets.
With no better method, Danny started flying laps around the city, hoping his ghost sense would go off eventually.
His ghost sense remained quiet, but he found something better.
Batman himself, was right there fighting off a group of thugs. It was a small group of people for a skilled fighter like Batman to take on, he didn't really need backup. Which probably meant, the bird was somewhere nearby..
And yup! Standing on a rooftop close by keeping lookout was Robin.
This was neat, two vigilantes in the same location, now Danny could just stay here and keep guard until Vi showed themselves.
Danny hovered over Batman's fight invisibly, realizing how lucky he was that the man was unaware of his existence, and had no access to ecto-powered weapons. Danny shivered just at the thought.
Now that he was thinking about it, Batman was surrounded by a lot of people. A lot of them were probably innocent people, pulled into this business by a lack of better opportunities. Just like Vi.
And if Vi was here only for revenge, surely they wouldn't risk other people suffering the same fate as them. If they attacked Batman now, any one of the thugs could get caught in the crossfire.
Would Vi just wait it out until Batman was alone? It didn't make a lot of sense. Surely they would act soon, but Batman was surrounded, and Robin was.. Robin was alone!
Danny turned around in a panic as a cold shiver ran through his body.
Shit
He shot off towards Robin at high speed. Now that he had sensed them he could tell where they were (two seconds) Vi was heading right for Robin, their claws out and ready to strike (one second), they were just about to make contact, barely an inch away from Robin, when Danny crashed into them, phasing them both harmlessly through the vigilante and flying them far, far away in the blink of an eye. His heart was drumming so hard in his chest, (he could feel it all the way through his arms, wow) he didn't realize his heart could beat that hard in ghost form, he assumed his core would take over.
Maybe it was just testament to how stressed out Danny was.
That had been too close.
He had barely a moment to rest, as Vi broke out of his hold angrily.
"Foolish boy, do not get in the way of my revenge again."
Vi tried to fly away to try again, but Danny formed an ecto-barrier around them to keep them put.
"Not gonna happen, you're targeting two innocent people."
Vi hissed at him with frustration,
"You know not what you speak of, fool. Those killers parading around as heroes caused my unfair demise, and I shall have reve-"
At that point Danny decided he'd heard enough, it was a school night and he had to get going, so he grabbed the thermos from his belt and sucked Vi into it mid-spiel. He'd heard that same speech enough times to know how it goes.
Robin still alive, Batman unaware of ghosts existing, Crisis averted, and Danny would still make it home with enough time to get a half-decent nights sleep. Things were looking up.
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Jason is 14 years old. It's been a year since his soulmate died.
He's gotten good at pretending it doesn't affect him anymore. After that first night where Jason let himself properly cry in Alfred's arms, neither of them had spoken about the matter again. Alfred made it a point to treat Jason exactly the same as before, knowing that if he were to act extra careful as to not upset the boy it would have the opposite effect.
Alfred was great like that, always noticing and remembering things but knowing when not to bring them up.
He pretended not to notice that Jason never wore short sleeved shirts anymore.
When he found Jason huddled away in the library he pretended not to notice how many more romance novels the boy was reading compared to before.
During the darkest nights, when Jason silently wishes he could go join his soulmate wherever they had ended up, Alfred was there without fail. He didn't speak of the things he knew Jason was thinking about, whether it was as to not make Jason uncomfortable or because Alfred himself didn't dare say it out loud, he didn't know.
But he was there, every time.
And when Jason realized it had been a full year since his soulmate died, Alfred was there as a silent support, just a moment away should Jason need him yet never intruding.
If Bruce notices that anything has happened to Jason, he hasn't bothered to ask about it yet. Jason isn't sure if he prefers it that way or not.
On one hand, he doesn't like the idea of Bruce butting into his personal business, the man had never been great with emotions.
But the realization that his father-figure didn't even know what he was going through had Jason wanting to burst into Bruce's study and tell him everything, if even just to get a reaction out of him.
It had been a year, but so far he hadn't said anything.
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When Jason is out on the streets of Gotham, the mask of Robin is always a nice barrier to hide behind. He'll lock his emotions up tight in the back of his mind and cover them up with the veil of an unbothered vigilante who had far better things to worry about.
This night he's standing on a rooftop, keeping a lookout as Bruce deals with a group of thugs. The group was small enough that Bruce would have no trouble at all dealing with them, and Jason's time would be better spent keeping an eye out for anyone trying to slink away unnoticed by the bat.
It had been an uneventful few minutes, watching Bruce dispose of the thugs as all of them kept rushing him, not a single one having the bright idea that whatever payout they were promised wasn't worth sticking around anymore.
Then, Jason felt a shiver run up his spine. He felt like he was being watched. It was a foreboding feeling, like something was going to jump at him any moment.
He spun around, quickly assessing his surroundings, but he found nothing out of place.
The feeling did not go away though, only growing more insistent.
And then in the blink of an eye, a gust of wind picks up around Jason as the feeling of danger flares, and Jason is sure he is about to die right there.
In the next second, the wind turns cold, and Jason could swear he saw his breath fog in front of him for a moment. Yet he doesn't feel even the slightest bit frozen.
The cold passes through him impossibly fast, and with it the feeling of danger vanishes, and so between one blink and another Jason is left standing there dumbfounded at what just happened.
He hadn't imagined it, that feeling of danger was nothing concrete but it had been clear as day in Jason's mind.
The wind was definitely real too, he'd felt it rustle his hair as it passed by.
And the biggest piece of evidence he wasn't going crazy, was the small piece of frost on the ground around Jason's feet. He took a step away from it experimentally, and it quickly faded. But it had been there.
The biggest mystery of the night though, the part of this whole thing that shook Jason to his core, was his wrist.
He raised his wrist and pulled back his glove to check, because there was no way he was actually feeling what he thought he was.
But right there, the tiny black heart that was stuck to his wrist as a permanent reminder of what he could have had, was carefully beating in an excruciatingly slow rhythm. Slow, faint, but real.
Jason lost track of time as he stood there, just watching the heart on his wrist beating slower and slower, until it stopped and refused to move again.
For the first time in a year, Jason feels a dangerous sliver of hope sneak it's way into his heart.
It can't be.
But there was no other explanation.
Jason had been in danger, but some unknown force, one that brought an overwhelming feeling of safe with it had saved him.
And his tattoo was telling him his soulmate had been there.
Jason couldn't think of a better explanation than that the one who saved him was a spirit, or ghost of some kind. It sounded ridiculous.
He looks back at his wrist, gently stroking his fingers over the tattoo as the considers it.
It seemed like a ghost saved him.
His soulmate had been there.
His soulmate who was dead.
Jason felt silly for entertaining the thought, but he couldn't help but want to believe it. That tonight he had been about to die, and the spirit of his soulmate had protected him.
He took that realization and stored it away with the rest of his emotions. He didn't know how to feel about it.
He knew, that for the past year his grief had made him consider some terrible things. But how could he possibly want to go join his soulmate now, when they'd done the impossible and appeared next to him for even just a moment, to save his life.
Jason decided then, that no matter what happened, he was going to live. The sadness may never fully go away, by he would live the life he had been given, and his soulmate would simply have to wait until Jason was ready to join them.
With a lighter conscience than he's had in a year, Jason grapples away from the roof and heads back home, a tiny hint of a smile on his face.
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Tags: @craftyexpertchild
Thank you for reading <3
#danny phantom#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp prompt#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc prompt#dpxdc#jason todd#dead on main#soulmate au
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