#anyways i hate gustave he needs to Go

[ratatatastic]

"The hardest defenceman to play against?" "Hardest defenceman to play against? Hardest defenceman... Probably my buddy up in Florida there, Gustav Forsling." "Yeah, who's the hardest guy to dangle, Ryan, when you're doing your toedrags?" "Yeah, that—it's... it's definitely him! Because I came off a full summer of, like, feeling good, and I got matched up against him with a drill that we were supposed to roast the D and, my goodness! He was there knocking it off my stick every single time so he's elite, that guy!"

HERE WE GO...

HERE WE GO AGAIN!!!!

HERE WE FUCKING GO AGAIN...

[20doozers]

★Christmas cookies★

TW: fluff, kissing, m!reader, use of y/n and m/n, making cookies and being ridiculous, some teasing, just sweet fluff, some kissing and teasing, nicknames like baby, etc

A/n: I’m back guys! Well I’m still sorta slow on fics but I’m trying to work on it cuz the holidays and such are so busy.

Tom stood clueless in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the ingredients laid out on the counter as his boyfriend washed his hands in the kitchen sink.

“Uhh.. baby I don’t think I’m equipped with the skill to do this..” Tom sighed, turning to look at m/n as he chuckled and flicked water at him before drying his hands.

“Oh shush, such nonsense isn’t allowed in my kitchen. You’re only here to do the cookie cutters anyway.” M/n remarked, earning a huff from Tom as he walked over and went back to the gingerbread cookies he was making.

“Our kitchen, plus I can make a mean cheesecake.”

“Uh-huh, Tom you do everything but bake.” M/n huffed teasingly, rolling his eyes as Tom came up behind him and hugged him, Tom’s arms around his waist and chin on his shoulder. Tom snuck his hands around to m/n’s stomach, pulling his shirt up a tad and sneaking his cold hands under m/n’s shirt.

“Tom! I almost dropped the egg shells in!” M/n jolted at the cold hands, whining as he cracked the last egg into the bowl.

“So?”

“So you could’ve had shells in your cookies! And you already ate half of my pastries so I need to make more.” M/n huffed, barely able to put and actual bite behind his words as Tom gently began to kiss his jaw.

“Not my fault you make good pastries, I couldn’t help it..” Tom murmured, kissing m/n’s jaw a few times before kissing his cheek then pulling back.

“And besides you don’t need to make me any fatter, the regular cookie batches are enough already.”

“You’re not fat Tom, plus I’d love you anyway. I’d rather have a well fed man than a starving man. ‘Nd I like spoiling you, baking is fun regardless.” Tom hummed at m/n’s words, looking over his shoulder at the cookie dough as m/n mixed it and put it in Saran Wrap before letting go so m/n could carry it over to the fridge.

Tom hummed happily as he watched m/n roll out and flatten the now ready dough, setting out the cookie cutters so Tom could do it. M/n hummed as he watched Tom happily press the metal shapes into the cookies; classic gingerbread men, stars, snowflakes, Christmas trees, and many other shapes. It was nice to see Tom happy over something so simple, but m/n knew Tom would be happier when they were baked and it was time to ice them.

The two men were hosting Christmas like usuals, everyone brought or made different things. It was mostly a small celebration with the band; Gustav, Georg, Tom, Bill, Georg and gustav’s wives, and m/n. They always had Christmas dinner together and Tom always loved showing off and braving about how good m/n’s baking was. Cookies, pies, pastries, homemade bread, homemade rolls, etc.

And 30 minutes later the cookies were baked, laying out on cooling racks along with sugar cookies that now just needed to be iced.

“Tom please don’t get icing everywhere, I love you and all but I hate when the kitchen is sticky right before Christmas.” M/n hummed, giving Tom a soft peck on the lips as Tom let him go so he could go ice the cookies.

And as Tom Iced the cookies m/n cleaned the kitchen, stopping every once in a while to check on Tom or help with something, and it took about an hour for all of the cookies to be iced. Of course tom had made a few inappropriate gingerbread men, giving them boobs or a dick, but m/n could only laugh, seeing a glance of his much younger much more immature husband when they had only been boyfriends all those years ago.

Tom hummed and walked over to m/n, pulling him close and leaning in to press a gentle, slow kiss to his lips, and m/n reciprocated. Tom tasted like gingerbread and apple cider with a hint sugar from the icing which only made m/n love him more.

Life was good around the holidays, especially when they were at home together. Husband and husband.

YAYYYY! New fic for the Tom boys dropped! I’ve been sooo busy these past few weeks, I went and saw the nutcracker and they had a beautiful ballerina from Moscow. It was super cool! I’m also on my period so cramps are kicking my ass but I’m doing good if anyone cares. MERRRY EARLY CHRISTMASS Love you guys!

Tags: @itsmealaiahh @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @billskeis @divinelolita @cherry-rawr @d0wn-in-the-morgue (let me know if you wanna be on my tag list!!)

[chokemewhenwefuck]

Tom loves buying you little gifts; that cost a lot of money.

tom walked in carrying small bags in his hands, you assumed he just came from the mall, as you continued watching interviews on the television with gustav. his cheeky smile didn't go unnoticed by you though as he scurried off into your shared bedroom quickly after greeting you.

curiosity got the best of you eventually, so you soon after left gustav and went to see your boyfriend.

the door squeaked open at your arrival, tom shuffling around the room in and out of the bags. his movement halted when you stepped in as his head dramatically turned like a bat caught in sunlight.

"Hey babe, do you mind stepping out for a bit?" He spoke out, throwing the mystery items back into the miscellaneous bags. she sighed, sitting on the corner of the bed furthest from his suspicious activity. "I hope you didn't buy anything else for me, you just gifted me that dinner last week."

tom frowned, spinning around from the bags to look at his beloved girlfriend. his bottom lip poked out mockingly as he put his hands together and walked towards her. "meine liebe, a silly dinner is not enough for someone as beautiful as you." he whined, picking up her fingers to connect them to his own.

"someone like you needs to be spoiled," lifting your intertwined hands to spin you around. "by me."

you laughed softly, obliging to his wishes. "So, what'd you get me anyway." she questioned, leaning over to get a look behind him at the bags.

he smiled at her confidently before ordering her to turn around as he pulled the gifts out of the bags. she heard a bit of ruffling and the sound of boxes hitting the ground before he finally announced she could turn around.

she turned around half expecting a puppy to jump out onto her the way he was hiding the gifts. but instead she was met with a bundle of beautiful pink dahlias and a hat.

she narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side softly at the hat, picking up the flowers and sniffing them with a confused smile.

tom laughed at her, picking up the hat and leading her by her shoulders to the mirror, placing the hat on her head softly with a smirk.

she adjusted her hair, and turned her head both ways to examine the gift. once she turned to the right she saw it, the word 'Kaulitz' written in toms signature embedded into the side of the hat that was her favorite color.

her face light up into a shy smile, arms instantly going to his neck to embrace her lover.

maybe the gifts weren't too bad, after all they were from the one and only Tom Kaulitz. :)

a/n: MY WRITERS BLOCK IS DICK RIDING ME SO BAD RN. trust me, i have seen the request you guys have sent, i started working but then this kicked in. so for now im just finishing shit that was almsot done. i will have the request done sometime. dont hate me.

[goo-berz]

Talking about Vivziepops' weird art of minors

I've never been the biggest fan of Vivziepop, I've always knew about their weird behavior (since like 2018 ~ 2019) before they were as popular as they are now.

She has done a lot of weird stuff but the thing I mainly wanna focus on in this post is their character Addison. Addison is a 17 year old gay effeminate fox humanoid from Zoophobia, he's in a relationship with a 19 year old Teacher's assistant named Gustav. Many people get confused by this but Addison has been CONFIRMED to be 17 years old by Vivziepop. Someone had changed Addison's Fandom Wiki page back in 2019 to say they're 18, when this is not true, Vivzie has confirmed they're 17. I did go back and change the age to 17 on the Wiki with the correct age in hopes that people stop believing incorrect information.

Vivzie confirming their age: https://twitter.com/vivziepop/status/1128064633166712832

The tags in this post brings up the fact that Addison is nearly 18 - not 18 yet - They're still 17.

Edit: Oh yeah, I want to add on context to this tag: "I should mention the characters canon ages are higher then when I first made them because as I wrote the story any big age gaps were uncomfy"

I've heard multiple older fans of Vivziepop say that Addison was originally meant to be 14-15 years old, and I've heard that Gustav was originally meant to be in his 30s.

Addison was created 2010, She began shipping Gustav with Addison in 2011, and Zoophobia began in 2012. So the fact she shipped a 14-15 year old character with a 30 year old one to begin with, and encouraged her friend to draw intense NSFW art of them together is so.. weird.

Anyways, Vivzie also hints at Addison being a minor, using wording indicating how young they are in age in their Blogpost introducing the character

"I finally created a few concepts, but the one I have been toying with the most is a young character much like Gale. An albino boy, with an identical albino sister"

If you need more proof, Addison is also preyed on by Mirage, a character that SPECIFICALLY goes after minors... that's basically her main personality trait, that she's a p3d0. She goes after Addison because he's a young submissive boy and easy to manipulate.

Anyways, back on topic. I personally I don't see anything wrong with the age gap of 17 & 19, however I do think it's weird to have this relationship between Addison and Gustav.. he's not exactly a teacher, but he still holds power over Addison due to the fact he's the voluntary teacher's assistant. Back when Zoophobia was popular there were people who found this dynamic weird & creepy considering the fact that Addison is basically a student under Gustav. Also, I just wanna bring this up because I find this weird, Gustav was originally under the impression that Addison was a year one student and much younger than he actually is, yet he still tried to flirt with him.. erm..? Yeah..

Anyways, that isn't the main point. The point is that Vivzie DREW NSFW OF HER 17 YEAR OLD CHARACTER AND HIS 19 YEAR OLD TEACHER... erm.. holy cracker balls? Literally how can anyone excuse these?

Vivzie also drew Gore of Addison too, but I won't post it here cus it's very graphic and weird and idk why she drew it!!

And .. possibly the worst drawing of them all.. Holy titties what is this... If you're wondering, the stuff under the censors is ACTUAL NSFW. It's not suggestive, or implied s3x, It's their ACTUAL WEE WEEs.

These accounts are poorly archived, so it's hard to find the original post and what it originally said. However after some digging I was able to find out the original text said

“ dollcreep: “ i can only see ‘dark-Günter’ exposing him and addi to a public area like so…so. yeah. Günter says; merry Christmas. god this question is super old. vivz reminded me about it"

So, I'm assuming that Dollcreep drew this, not Vivzie. However I was also able to find out from the limited resources there is that Vivzie reposted this to her accounts Vivzie-zp (unarchived) and ZPanswers, which are also now deleted, but if you view the accounts tumblr archives over the Wayback machine you can see that she did indeed repost this. http://web.archive.org/web/20120801182958/http://zpanswers.tumblr.com/archive

If you don't know, Dollcreep and Vivzie used to be best friends, however aren't anymore. Dollcreep originally designed Gustav, originally named Gunter, and Vivzie bought the design from them. Vivzie designed Addison back around 2010, and taking into account the old caption, this means that Vivzie.. allowed Dollcreep to draw NSFW art of their underaged character ;-; oh my gawd!!! Whatthe heck guys... like I said at this time Addison was still 14 - 15 and Gustav (Gunter) was in his 30s.

Also I want to mention that this drawing was from 2011, so that means Vivzie had this pedophilic ship with Dollcreeps OC for years, & after she bought the rights to the character she decided to.. keep the pedophilic ship and write it into Zoophobia by making him Addisons teacher. That's crazy..?

Anyways, because I brought up Mirage. Mirage is written pretty bad. She was a character meant to be in.. or scrapped from Zoophobia, she was meant to be a villain who preyed on the kids, mainly Addison. Her main trait is that she likes kids

Vivzie's made a bunch of drawings of Mirage preying on kids which I think is pretty weird, especially considering how poorly some of them represent it and make it seem like a joke instead.

and yeah, we all know about this infamous drawing she made of Mirage preying on Kestrel, a 14 year old. Pretty weird

Also when I looked at the web archive of Vivzie's ZPanswers blog (a Zoophobia ask blog) she accepted many weird asks about Kestrel, 14, and Addison, 17, like an ask asking if Kestrel had ever been fucked by a horse & how Kestrel, Addison & others would act when they were drunk. Which is also pretty weird to me I won't lie

Anyways that's all for now. Sorry if this is all over the place its 4am and I just wanted to get my thoughts out that vivziepop is kinda a weirdo

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUUU!!’

ANYWAY😝

I SAW YOUR TOM X POLISH READER AND WONDERED IF YOU COULD DO A TOM X ITALIAN READER THX🥹🙏🏼

(hello! I love you to and I'm so glad you liked my polish one! Anyways, enjoy!)

Tom K. x Italian!Reader

First of all, you already won being Italian

Tom has said I think multiple times he likes people from around the world and from different cultures

So he just loves you automatically

But he's the stupid ass to be asking you about all sorts of stereotypes

"Can I break the pasta? Would you be mad at me if I did? …I'm gonna break it-"

"is Mario accurate?"

That's him on the daily basis I swear

He's also gonna be behind you if you're cooking and if you're making sauce

Just to annoy you he's going to dip his finger in the sauce

He's doing everything to annoy you

But he actually does love your culture very much so

Especially if you have a big family, including siblings

He wants Bill to be able to get along with your family and siblings

He also secretly wanted to be apart of a big family

He wants to learn Italian but he most definitely learned the cuss words first

He needs your help on some words as well when learning

He wants to know any and every Italian dish you can cook

Even if you can't he's begging your mama to make it

Or he's stealing some from your mom

Just because he wants that little fantasy thing he's most definitely taking you to Italy

Even if you're not from Italy originally he's still taking you

"Embrace the culture, babe!"

"Then go back to Germany, Tom?!"

"My name is Mario. Not Tom."

He's that stupid ass guy with a smug smile every damn time

He gets along with your mama and dad so well

Your dad can't not like him because Tom refuses to have your dad hate him

And your mom loves him because…it's Tom

He's saying dirty shit to you in Italian as well when he learns

Especially at random times in front of your family

He likes the small thrill of your family knowing what he said

He also finds it oddly a turn on when you speak Italian

Yell at him in Italian and the clothes are on the floor

I don't make the rules

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@billsjum6ie @bigbootahjudy @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @billybabeskaulitz @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0 @graciegizmo3184 @sweetpuffy12 @80s-tingz @ryiana @yuriayato5 @bunnysenpai31 @banshailey @bellastoner420 @victryzvv9 @stxngnr @killed-kiss @stilesandjames @m00nzyblogs @sylisan @lyzit @trixiekaulitz @laylasbunbunny @5hyslv7

[divinelolita]

ik u sleep but i gotta send this before i go to bed cuz its like 5am(almost six am)

ANYWAY

lemme um

lemme get sum headcannons(full band seperate) with a male reader who is a stripper(bro busting on them poles) and is kind of the type of stripper to wear more feminine outfits yk? cuz the club be needing that money fr

and ngl the band would prolly visit but literally hates it when reader got clients other than them

like bro wants reader to give em that lap dance like fuk r u doing😪🤞🏾

ofccc you can throw in obvious nsfw like???(bro u should know the positions we talk abt it like all the time😞)

and duhh u can add other ideas if u feel like it tf🙄

THE BAND X MALE STRIPPER

hii babe 🙈 ummm my cat was sitting on my lap while writing this so if there's typos no there's not 🤞 had to do research on this oml

BILL:

・oh god he loves watching you.

・He never really knew he'd have a thing for a person swinging their ass on a pole, but baby he fucking loves you.

・Just continuously looking you up and down

・He can't help but moan if you give him a lap dance oml, holding a hand on your waist kinda guiding you 🤭

・You leaving soft kisses on his jaw and neck, moving your hips on him...

・He's so turned on WHATT...

・Gets jealous if you give others a lap dance or just feel 'em up

・He gets that it's your job but goddamn he's envious 😭

・hes paying for vip idgaf.

・He knows y'all can't have sex there but oh my god just being able to touch you more, running his hands up your back without anyone watching oh my GOD

TOM:

・teehee omg

・Seeing you all dressed up as you dance.. oh my god that's all he needed.

・He's throwing MONEY at you babe. I'm talking 20-50 dollar bills omg.

・getting a lap dance from you is like heaven to him.

・Can't keep his hands off you, rubbing down your waist and thighs. He knows he has to be careful but he can't resistttttt

・He'd get slightly possessive, glaring if you give another person a lap dance.

・He loves you too much..

・NAH HE'S BUYING VIP I DON'T GOTTA LIE

・Groping you, pulling you close as he rests his head in your neck, letting you work your magic 😋

・UGH he wanna fucks you so badly but he can't due to health risks and allat

GEORG:

・You got him wrapped around your finger babe.

・He feels his heart beat faster as he looks at you, not being able to take his eyes off you

・You were his bi-panic idgaf.

・Looking at him, touching his arm or some shit like that? Oh my god.

・He loves that shit 😻

・Getting a lap dance just makes him feel like he's dreaming.

・Having you right there infront of him while you look so damn good...

・Taking him to vip as you remove a layer of clothing (maybe it's a shirt, dress, vest, whatever!)? He's so turned on...

GUSTAV:

・He'd be a little shy at first

・Like oh my god... just looking in his eyes while your spinning? His knees buckle.

・If you give others a lap dance or just touch their arm he feels covetousness.

is that the right word omfg

・I feel like hes not very touchy when you give him a lap dance, he leans back and just watches you with a lustful look

・He loves the clothes you wear omggg

・Just seeing you wear anything makes him so nervous yet zealous

uhm he's paying for vip cuz this is MY story and I choose what happens 😇

・anyways..Just being there alone with you? that's enough to make him horny.

・Oh my god he can't help but grab you and pull you close

[stardustloserdoll]

helloo i don’t know if you write for georg (or gustav) but i wanted to request a fic where the reader is tom and bills younger sister and she’s been acting different but she’s secretly dating georg and one day everyone is hanging out and tom is really suspicious on how their acting and when everyone leaves georg sneaks in and as their making out tom bursts in and goes overprotective brother mode and is trying to basically kill georg for “dating with his dear little sister” but in the end bill calms him and they end up approving the relationship

omg this is so long i’m so sorry :o if you can’t get to this i understand and hope you have good day !!

(also you writing is amazing hand in marriage rn 😾⁉️)

-🪄

i also write for them too!! i don’t just write for bill and tom! i know i haven’t written anything for georg and gustav yet, but feel free to send some !! i hope u have a great day too and thank you😭‼️

hidden love

female reader

“y/n are you listening.” tom snapped his fingers in front of my face breaking me from my staring.“what’s up with you? you’ve been out of it lately, and you’ve been staring at georg a lot lately.” tom leaned back on the couch crossing his arms raising an eyebrow at me.

“what? i’m not.” i said crossing my arms glancing at georg, seeing him look away from the tv to look at me sending a smirk my way.

“i’m going to get a snack.” i said raising my voice making sure georg heard me. they all nodded their heads, their eyes glued to whatever was on. as i stood up and began walking, i later heard footsteps behind me as i walked into the kitchen.

i leaned back on the kitchen counter waiting for georg to come in. once he came in i smiled putting my hands around his shoulders. “hey.” i whispered leaning in to kiss him.

“you remember our plan right?” i said running my fingers through his soft hair. “of course.” he laughed as he pressed his lips back onto mine quickly. “we should get back so it isn’t suspicious.” i said pulling away from the kiss, making sure to slam the fridge loudly.

i walked back into the living room holding a soda sitting down next to bill, georg entering after taking a seat next to gustav. “what took you guys so long.” tom said opening his bag of chips stopping mid way.

“i just realized we didn’t have any more sodas so georg helped me get them from the garage since they were somewhere high.” i responded opening my soda. “you could’ve asked one of us.” tom said munching on his chips glancing at the both of us. “you guys weren’t doing anything were you-“ tom began.

“i think gustav and i are gonna call it a night.” georg said as he stood up picking up his jacket.

“aw man okay, let me walk you guys out.” i quickly said putting down my drink walking behind. “i’ll see you later okay?” i whispered to georg as i placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

walking back to the living room i gave a fake yawn stretching. ��i think im heading to bed guys. night.” bill stood up shutting the tv “yeah me too, i need my beauty sleep.” tom sat there his arms crossed as he watched us “i guess I’ll go to bed too.”

we all said good night going into our rooms. i sat on my bed until i heard 3 knocks on my window knowing it was georg. i walked over to my window opening it letting him in. “hey sorry you had to wait in the cold.” i whispered closing the window once he came in. “it’s okay i was in gustavs car anyways.” he laughed going to lie down on my bed. i followed lying down next to him.

“i hate having to keep this a secret. i wanna hold you and kiss you without being all secretive.” i pouted lifting a hand to caresses his cheek. “i know but you know tom will freak out.” georg whispered running his fingers through my hair. “well we are alone..” i smirked leaning in to kiss him.

“hey y/n you forgot your-“ tom barged into my room freezing in his place. georg and i pulled apart “TOM KNOCK.” i yelled rushing over to push him outside. “WAS THAT GEORG KISSING YOU?” tom yelled as he tried to push through me to get to georg. “HES MY BOYFRIEND.” i yelled seeing tom’s face visibly getting angrier.

“i knew something was going on! i can’t believe this you’re dating my little sister.” tom yelled as i tried to close the door in his face but he was pushing against it with force.

“what’s with all the yelling… fuck.” bill yawned as he rubbed his tired eyes seeing the scene in front of him. bill sighed “you got caught didn’t you y/n… i told you to tell him too.” bill said as he pulled tom off holding him in his arms.

“this is the reason why i didn’t wanna tell your crazy ass!” i yelled opening the door. “how long has this been going on?”

“a month.” the three of us said in sync as we stared at him. “come on tom! hes such a sweet guy he’s literally the best boyfriend ever.” i said wrapping my arm around georgs. “y/n’s my everything. i would never treat her bad.” georg said looking at tom.

“come on tom she’s not a little kid anymore, shes happy.” bill said as he released his grip from tom. “you’re right..but if you hurt her i will beat your ass.” tom said pointing his finger at georg. “deep breaths tom.” bill said dragging him to the living room. georg and i both looked at each other standing there in silence.

“now.. where were we.”

[guerrillateezsworld]

dating gustav schäfer headcannons

sfw and nsfw!! minors dni please. obviously it’s your media consumption but it’s not my fault it you get disgusted, you know what you’re getting yourself into.

THIS IS IN NO WAY ACCURATE AT ALL. I DO NOT KNOW HIM PERSONALLY (even tho it’d be nice lmfao) AND THIS IS JUST PURELY IMAGINATION. THIS IS PURELY FAN-FICTION!!!

—————————

sfw~~~

-not the biggest on pda but he will still kiss you, hug you, etc.

-tries to not get caught kissing you by paparazzi

-very affectionate in private.

-whenever he has free time, he’ll either take you shopping or spend time with you at your house

-hates when the boys check you out (you’re just too hot🙄)

-calls you every night. and i mean every night

-he lets you wear whatever you want BUT gets upset when others look at you and he doesn’t really prefer it but it’s none of his business and he knows it’s wrong to control you

-he loves when you give him massages. especially after a long day of being out and about

-his fav pet name to call you is darling or honey, don’t ask why.

-hates being away from you for too long and always insists you come with him on tours

-won’t leave you alone when he wants attention

-when in interviews, he always gets flustered when they ask about you. he just loves you so much

-buys you anything, and i mean anything, no matter how expensive or stupid it is

-your family loves him and his family loves you

-when you guys first started dating, he would be so shy to even look your way or hold hands. he’s so precious

-he always makes sure your personal life is out of the way from paparazzi the best he can, he just wants you to be safe

-cuddles. YES. he fucking loves cuddles

————————————————————————

nsfw~~

-imo, he’s a switch-leaning dom. +plus he’s a very soft dom but he’s not afraid to show you who you belong to

-IF. IF you ask him to sub, he wouldn’t have a problem with it since he’s a switch

-when he subs, PRAISE HIM NOWWWW, he deserves it for being such a good boy

-AFTERCARE IS A MUST. no matter how tired he is, he takes care of your needs first.

-prefers giving oral rather than receiving but he still loves receiving it. he will never turn the offer down

-definitely has a praise kink + degrading kink. he likes praising you and you praising him. mainly uses the degrading kink on you rather than you using it on him

-other kinks include: daddy kink when he’s dominant with you, mommy when you’re dominant with him (as long as you’re comfortable with both of them), spanking IM SORRY, orgasm denial (goes both ways. it just turns him on so much), nipple play idk why, choking (not too hard, basically just his hand sitting around your neck).

-honestly i feel like he REALLY like to use toys on you tbh. it just makes him feel like he’s in so much control

-his favorite positions are doggy, cowgirl, and missionary

-he prefers to fuck in the bedroom

-SIZE KINK IM SORRY❤️❤️

-he loves soft sex but that doesn’t mean he won’t go rough

-gets jealous easily, idk way. he’s just too sweet and precious for that

-GIVE.HIM.HEAD.PLEASE OMG HE’D DO ANYTHING

-when fucking, he loves putting his hand over your mouth💔💔

-also when fucking, he’ll put his hand around your throat too, just to be extra

OKAY YALL.

thats all i feel like i can write 💔💔 pls help

but anyways i really, really, really hope you enjoyed it.

[hel-phoenyx]

New Years Eve, Interlude (2)

Interlude on the New Year's Eve story (even though we're in february. Too bad for the new year new me symbolism but hey they needed to breathe) on our collab with @corneille-but-not-the-author and @soupedepates, because I can't use Fenrir for the remaining plot point I have anymore and I really need this to go in the right direction before we start new shit. Can't go for two more months of stalling now can I :,)

So today you got Kriss being Kriss.

"Call her, Tyr."

My baby brother lifts his head from his phone. We are eating, Fen already left the table to go play pretend with his polly pocket, so I don't get as annoying as I could be about phones on the table ; still, it is a bit nerve-wracking to see thos big dumb ass sulk on at least the thirtiest draft he wants to send.

"What do you mean ?"

"I said what I said. Call her. You can't stay no contact eternally. If this reaches May and you miss Qamar's wedding because of that, or go in and ruin it by your sulking, she will have a right to kill you."

He raises his eyebrow.

"... I thought you told me to disconnect for a while."

"Yeah, from bullshit. Not your friends altogether. I told you, Tyr, you can't play the avoidant part forever, it's just self-sabotaging. You got hurt, she got hurt, you guys need to talk it out. Sooner rather than later."

He sighs. God he looks so miserable. Staying at my place did him good, he regained some colors, put on some weight and started going to the gym again, as well as boxing. Brynja managed to pull him back together woth Valentines, what a godsend. He's talking to the gang of six, and saw Kaizarz and Oli recently ; I even heard him have a long conversation with Meili over the phone yesterday.

Well, Meili chewed him out, but it was deserved.

No, the only problem left is Domhildr. I couldn't contact her, he didn't try, they're still not talking, and I can see the toll it takes on him. But, knowing that idiot, he doesn't think much of a potential attempt.

He closes his phone, take a bite of the dessert. Gustav's cheesecake. I love my malewife and I love even more his cakes. All his cakes.

".... I don't see the point. She must hate me. Silence once is excusable, but for two months ?"

"Well you did fuck up and that is precisely why you must apologize."

".... Yeah I know. But she'd be better without me anyway."

Jesus Christ.

I get up, take his cheeks between my two hands. Force him to look at me in the eyes.

"Listen well, you sulking baby. Do you really think the girl that told you she loved you after fucking Oli on New Years and flirting with Sigismund Warsowar after that, people that in your reference are appently better that you, would hate you for the sole point you're being a little kid ?"

He blinks, but I am not finished.

"If anything she probably feels like YOU hate her for the very legitimate lashing out at you. I know that girl since she's eight, you know. She can't hate people for shit."

"Yet she hate Fenrir."

"Yeah but see, Fenrir deserves his new load of silent treatment."

He has a tiny, sarcastic smile.

"On that point we agree."

I remember when Gustav told me they ran into Kaizarz and Fenrir had his little tantrum. Apparently Tyr kept an ice-cold profile for him all evening after that and it's deserved. It's been years, dude, and Kaizarz ain't did shit except being a better friend than you, drop it.

"But seriously, Tyr, call her. I'm sure she's not even aware you're staying at my place right now, even if you warned the three others. Brynja litteraly told me you ask them to keep it for themselves."

"I-"

He stops. No argument, huh.

"The truth, Tyr, is that you're so afraid of a confrontation where she would tell you that she doesn't love you anymore, and you could only blame yourself for that. But the more you avoid this shit the more it has a chance to happen, and you can't avoid it forever."

He stays silent. Bullseye, eh ? I know you too well.

That should be something for your therapist, but you didn't talk about that with him, did you. So I, as the big sister in mechanical engineering, have to step up. And engineer my way in so you understand.

I hate seeing you like this, Tyr. And them, too. You were a group, once, with Meili, Oli and Kaizarz and I don't want it falling apart because it was part of my childhood, too.

I let go of his cheeks, sit down again.

"I can't do everything for you, you know. I gave news to your friends while you needed to recover, I tried to arrange something with Domhildr so it doesn't take TWO FUCKING MONTHS, I invited you to stay at my place so you wouldn't be alone with your thoughts. I am happy to help you, really, but you're turning 27 this year, act like it."

He sighs. Nods.

".... I should call her. Maybe."

"That's a progress."

".... Not today."

Il roll my eyes.

"That's less of a progress. Tell you what, I won't force you, or interfere for shit. Won't nag you about that either. But pull your shit together, Tyr, for fuck's sake. Or you won't have any shit to pull."

He nods again. I guess I have made my point clear.

Good. So I won't have to call Domhildr and tell her to get her ass here asap.

[artinandwritin]

Kinda inspired by the ask you sent me, we know Gustav has a CURSED fashion sense, right? I feel like in a modern au, it being Summer would only highlight that, so like, what atrocious stuff do you think that Gustav would wear and also probably buy for the kids

(i'm sure siri is the only well dressed person in the family some days and it's made so much worse bc she's obviously a fashion queen)

HELP BC YOURE SO RIGHT

have a lil doodle i made in ten minutes to illustrate the ✨️vision✨️

My art skills are shitty today shhh we dont talk about that

A list of atrocious things Gustav would buy for himself, Siri, and their kids;

Crocs. All the crocs. Preferably with weird designs cuz he thinks theyre cool. Sunni has psychedelic ones and she doesnt know what to do with them. Siri's are with flowers, Niv's are dinosaurs and Hellie's have a fire theme. The Guster himself has the most neon purple ones he could find and he only ever wears them in race mode. Siri does wear them sometimes but only in the house or in the garden

Also, bucket hats. Siri keeps telling him to put on sunscreen but he's too lazy for that, so he just goes for the next best option and just has a bucket hat on all day every day. Sunniva sometimes makes or buys pins for him to put on it and he brags about it to Snotlout

The dude's got like. Ten silly t-shirts. One for every day of the week and than some more. They either have very anti-authority texts (which is so valid) or just. Plain stupid. He's seen some tiktoks from the youth tm that tucking your shirt in your pants makes you look cool so that's what he does always. Niv absolutely hates everything about this.

He's got shorts that end above the knees so everyone can see his battlewounds (scratches he got from tripping over Fanghook, his own feet, and falling while skating) and it utterly proud whenever someone mentions them. He tells different stories of how he got them every time someone asks

The most normal thing are sunglasses, surprisingly. At least the kid isn't gonna let his eyes go to shit? He did buy them from a very cheap shady store so who knows how long before they break

Surprisingly, Siri is totally fine with it (she shouldn't be ngl, but for some reason she is). She just doesn't see any harm in him dressing up the way he wants.

Niv, Sunni and Helene hate some parts of it with a burning passion tho. They liked it as kids (Sunni a bit more than Niv and Hellie cuz their dad dressing up in the craziest things meant she could dress to all her needs too) but when they got older and Gustav became the "how do you do fellow kids" parent they just felt. Embarrassed lmao.

Not completely unrelated but during summer family-reunion-esque bbqs (Siri's dad has doubts about inviting his kid's weird husband every year again bc of the fashion sense and personality) Gustav would buy a "kiss the cook"-like apron and force who-ever is cooking to wear is (snickering in the background cuz damn that looks so funny)

People would ask Siri to like. Control her hubby and she just goes "why would I"

She's so into his silly that she just doesn't want it to chance. At some point Sunniva does join in on the silly again and Siri supports that just as much cuz she knows Sunni enjoys that stuff. Helene keeps hating it for the rest of her life tho. She doesn't think it's cool tm :')

Anyway that turned into a whole thing bc my brain had many thoughts and needed to relay them to you LMAO thank you sm for this ask!! It was sm fun to think about it <333

[fairyblue-alchemist]

for the blorbo scrimblo etc ask thing- fire emblem?

lmao which one king (gn) there's so many of them? for simplicity's sake i'll do 3h

blorbo: augh this is really hard but you know what? i'll do marianne. i love her so much <33

scrunkly: annette!!! i love her so much and she's so kind and sweet she deserves so so much

scrimblo bimblo: i like shamir a lot! i honestly don't know how popular she is in the fandom but she's so gender and cool and i like her a lot

glup shitto: i can't say gatekeeper because we all know how *that* went, but i really like the gremory lady in abyss by the forgotten goddess statue! she's from a place so far away from fodlan that this is the only way she can even try to practice her faith and i think that's super interesting. i'd love to see more about the other countries around fodlan and how they're like outside of what little snippets we see. i also like the implications it has, is the church of seiros really so prevalent in fodlan that other people can't openly practice their faiths? does their religious dominance go that far? idk i just think it's Neat.

poor little meow meow: hmmm probably manuela, she's honestly a Mess but i love her because girl same but not in the way you are. horse plinko: probably seteth, overly stiff authority figures are the bane of my existence and i would be a little shit to him all the time. assuming my anxiety doesn't make me run away from him first. i would probably need the assistance of the likes of claude to help me try to pull anything on him.

eeby deeby: i am punting gustave directly into superhell he is going by my hand on gods- anyways! i think a lot about the fact that i got annette and gustave's paired ending in my first run of blue lions because i wanted them to be a happy family again but after seeing their supports + end card i am throwing that entire thing out. she shouldn't!!! have to put so much work!!! into making him stay with her and her mom!!! if he truly cared about his family he wouldn't have resisted so much!!! the fuck!!!!! i hate having to be the one to reach out to people emotionally only to get nothing in return again and again do you think i want annette to go through that?? fuck no. i am throwing that man in lava.

give me a fandom and i'll assign arbitrary tumblr words to it

[saphirered]

Every Second Counts

A little Mollymauk x acrobat!reader that’s been floating around my head. I hope it turned out well. 

You’d been with the circus for a while. You’re part of the family. You are the prime example of agility over strength in appearance but that doesn’t take away from the fact you have muscle control some may ever only dream of. While you are less of a contortionist you’re still very flexible. You could say you’re more of an acrobat. Your circus family is also aware you have an affinity for being sticky-fingered. Your light and quick movement has helped you lighten the pockets of individuals many times before. You have the face of a talker. Attractive as your tongue is quick and you are not afraid to put that charm to good use. All these traits gained you the interest and undivided attention of Mollymauk Tealeaf. 

The man knows little shame and doesn’t hold back when he’s actually telling the truth. He was never shy to make his attraction to you clear but never put pressure on you or have expectations. If you liked him, then you did, and if not so be it. If you told him you liked him, great, if not, that’s fine. If you wanted him not to be affectionate towards you, hug you, sit close to you, pull you into his lap or sit down in yours, he won’t. Molly is aware there’s a difference between pushing the line and crossing a boundary. He’s respectful of those hard boundaries and won’t cross them. 

You’d catch Molly sitting in the audience section of the tent while you were rehearsing for the night when he wasn’t on duty for something. When he was, and Gustav would find him he’d be scolded and told to go back to work, many things to be done before the shows. You’d blow him a kiss when Gustav would threaten to get Yasha or Bo to drag him out, a threat the man would make good on and therefor Molly had to leave one way or another. He’d prefer to leave with his dignity somewhat intact. 

Whenever he could, he’d enlist you to go into town with him to attract an audience for the show. If you had other things to do priorly, they’d somehow already been done or someone else would be doing them by the time you were ready to do them. You had to compliment Mollymauk’s efforts just to spend more time with you. Trickery, bribery and other methods of persuasion were not out of the question to reach this goal. You had to compliment his efforts. 

You never minded any of these things as you enjoyed spending time with Molly. The only hindrance standing in your way had always been your responsibilities and him changing them so they would align, had to be a blessing. Whenever he was successful persuading Orna, one of the most difficult to persuade to switch with, he’d pick you up and spin you around proclaiming proudly he had done it again. 

Your relationship is very organic and in the moment. You’d say you’re in a relationship but neither of you would say you’re boyfriend/girlfriend, husband/wife, partners, friends with benefits or anything alike. You’re you and he’s him. You care about each other, love each other, you spend time together, hug, cuddle and kiss. You’re affectionate, sleep in the same spaces, and sleep together. You do all the stuff couples would do but neither of you ever cared to define your relationship. You’re you and he’s him and that’s all that mattered. This arrangement works for both of you and neither of you feel the need to define or change it.

You’re practicing as the tent is being set up by the heavy lifters. Camp is already sorted so you found yourself with some free time you put to use to warm up a bit. Using one of the smaller tall poles secured you climb up onto the top. You stand on one leg the other parallel to the ground, jump and switch legs, one leg up straight into the air moving your body down until your palms touch the pole. You move your balancing leg up as well and shift the weight to your arms, kicking legs forward, backward and repeat one-handed. You switch to balancing on your lower arms and keep going through the motions to warm up. You hear a whistle. 

“While I’d hate to interrupt, Gustav says you’re with me, dear.” The familiar lavender tiefling smiles looking up at you. You sit down one leg over the other and smile back at him.

“Oh really? Gustav said so? How much did that cost you?” You say innocently. 

“Only three days of dishes and I washing Desmond’s costume after closing night.” Well, at least that wasn’t the worst. 

“Did Gustav tell you I’m free until tonight or did he forget to mention that.” Your smile changes into a grin as Mollymauk frowns.

“That bastard…” You hear him whisper under his breath at the realisation he got roped into cleaning duty for nothing. 

“Come on, let me make good on your deal.” You wrap your legs around the pole and lean backwards. Molly lifts his hands above his head high enough for you to grab them. You hold on and release the pole balancing solely on his hands as he takes a few steps back before you flip over and land on your feet on facing Molly. 

“Thank you. Shall we?” You kiss his cheek grabbing his arm and pulling him along towards the town. 

——————————————————————————

You’d been informed the town houses some dirty rich folks and it’s noticeable by the fine silks and flashy jewellery. Good reason to have increased the ticket price for the shows. Molly and you go around talking to groups and individuals alike, handing out flyers and persuading them to come see the show. You managed to get some excited folks to come see the show but for some more hardheaded individuals you had to throw your charm into the ring. A husky voice, fake interest, a touch of the arm and a bat of the eyelashes got you very far. 

One rather grumpy individual took a bit more to persuade and neither of you were willing to put in the effort after the good round you’d already had. But you did catch a flashy ruby ring and golden bracelet. With their attitude you found yourself justified to relieve them of these possessions during your pitch, for their own good of course. Only later the mention of that person’s name confirmed them to be an entitled asshole day and night, justifying your actions even more in your mind. Molly knew you took something on your little field trip but didn’t know what and you intended to keep it that way.

The night after the show Molly is cleaning dishes with the water from a nearby stream. You make your way over inspecting the stack of clean bowls, plates and cups.

“Came to see my good work?” He scrubs another bowl, checking it and putting it with the pile. 

“No. Desmond told me some of them want a second round after all so they need their dishes back. Mollymauk groans, takes the towel and throws it at you. You catch it before it hits you. 

“Rude! I’m just kidding, well half kidding. I managed to persuade them to leave the leftovers for breakfast tomorrow to spare you more dishes.” You take a bowl from the stacked clean dishes and begin drying it. Molly bumps his hip into yours. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re the real devil between the two of us.” Molly hands you the next dish stealing a kiss. 

“Oh shush. You know I’m a saint.” 

“A saint of thievery, deception and trickery.” He points an accusatory finger at you and you slap it away.

“But a saint no less.” You counter grabbing the pointing finger. Molly pulls you closer and kisses your hand giving you one of his trademark charming looks.

“Are you going to tell me what you took earlier today?” He leans in close placing one hand on your hip and swaying slightly in a dancing motion. You deliberate for a second before you hold his chin between your fingers until he’s millimetres away from your face.

“Back to the dishes Mollymauk.” The demeanour drops and you the victor of this little game between the two of you as you take a step back, pick up the cloth once more and continue drying the dishes. The accusatory finger returns and pokes your side.

“Hey, it was a team effort so I have a claim to fifty percent of what you got!” You innocently continue your job, or well, Molly’s job.

“Whatever you say, darling Mollymauk.” You grin as he flicks water at you. 

“You are infuriating.” He exclaims as you finish the dishes and return them to their place.

——————————————————————————

The next few days consisted of Mollymauk continuously bringing up ‘his share’ of the find but you played along innocently talking around in circles. You had plans and when they’re completed you’ll share them but for now, a secret they will remain. He had tried going through your things when unpacking some things for you, something not done secretly but you humoured him and let him try anyway. Coming to the conclusion it wasn’t among your things and definitely not on your person, or he’d definitely have known, he tried to interrogate you to see if you had given it to someone else to hold onto. Gustav, Yasha, Kylre, and even little Toya told him anything. The downside of your little family; they lie for their own if they have to and are experts at keeping their mouths shut. 

You’re going off into town to check on your project. Sneaking away was successful with the help of Yasha keeping Molly busy for the day to the point where he couldn’t get out of it. You’d make sure to pick her up some flowers on the way as a thanks. 

Next stop; the jeweller. You had melted down the gold and taken the ruby out of its setting but you didn’t have the tools to cast anything let alone make moulds so you had to outsource. Luckily the jeweller was more than happy to help you fashion what you wanted made for a generous price, one you were willing to pay to get what you want. Today you got to pick it up. It came out exactly how you had hoped it would. Paying and thanking the jeweller you picked up some flowers and gathered some from the road on your way back. 

Back at the camp you saw Yasha and Molly sitting together while he played with his cards. You approach them handing Yasha the bought bouquet and gathered one.

“Thank you for keeping him busy for a bit, Yasha.” 

“No problem. Thank you for the flowers. They’re very pretty.” She gets up, picks up her sword and goes off to see what else needs to be done leaving the two of you alone. 

“So I have to do dishes for 3 days and clean Desmond’s costume and you get away with a bouquet and some wildflowers? You sure you’re not the one with the devil’s tongue, love?” You give him a wink. 

“I’m off to practice. Can you behave and entertain yourself for the next hour or so?” 

“Of course I can but I make no promises that I will. Have fun.” You kiss his cheek walk backwards and give a little wave as you go towards the big tent to practice your set for the show. 

——————————————————————————

Warm up went well, your usual set too but the new one you’re working on is still a bit tricky to figure out. You don’t fall or anything and your moves are on point but it’s still lacking a sense of consistency and fluidity. You’d have to blame your thoughts being elsewhere. You try for the so-many-eth time you’ve lost count. Cartwheel flip centre stage, pointe landing, bow, aerial flip forward. Good. Entrance on point. Reach stage left, stage right, pirouette pointe spins, silk ropes lower, wrap arm, and up. 

You continue your routine, twisting and turning, dropping and climbing using the silk ropes, swinging around, performing intricate and impossible moves for eyes of the untrained individual. When you’re practically upside down in a split towards the end of your time you watch Mollymauk enter the tent and plop down. You continue your routine regardless making brief eye contact with him. He claps whenever you finish a set like the audience would. 

Final move you drop down from the top of the aerial silks but stop just before you hit the ground. You vault back up until your feet touch the ground and take a bow ending your set. Molly claps again and you’re about to climb up when he rushes over so you halt. 

“So have you decided yet? When I’ll get my share? I’ve been wanting to buy something but am short on coin. I could really use it.” He tries to persuade as you step up close to him. 

“Patience dear. When you’re ready I’ll give you your share.” You give him a light peck that he turns into a deeper kiss. Deciding to use this opportunity you stealthily begin wrapping the silk around his waist. You break the kiss and stroke his cheek. 

“I think I’m ready. Isn’t that worth something?” You laugh at his attempt. You know he isn’t really interested in the gold. His own curiosity is just getting the better of him and making him antsy so this whole thing is more of a game to him than anything else and he still thinks he can be the victor. Little does he know… At the minimum this could be considered a draw, at the most, your win. 

You begin taking steps backward away from him towards the stage entrance of the tent. He steps along with you. At least he does until the silks hold him back. You laugh as Molly looks confused for a second until he realises what you did. 

“Very funny love.” You reach into your pocket producing a couple of gold coins and hold them up in front of him just out of reach. 

“Are you, love? You seem to be a little tied up.” You tease watching him untangle himself. Once he does a comes for you reaching for the gold. You side step out of the way. 

“Try again.” 

“Missed me.” 

“Almost.”

“Oops.” 

You speak through giggles as tries again and again to get the coins but you’re much faster. Having run enough circles you climb up the rope just out of his reach hanging upside down, the coins just inches from his finger tips. 

“We have got to stop meeting like this Mr. Tealeaf. Imagine what people might think.” You gasp sticking out your tongue.

“You and I both know neither of us care what people might think. Now you’ve had your fun. I concede. You win. I admit my defeat.” You take the coins back and put them in the pouch and allow yourself to slide down and right way up again in a split between the two silks. You reach into a different pocket and hold your hands behind your back.

“I said I conceded didn’t I. Or would you prefer me to beg at your feet too?” He jokes as you take your sweet time. 

“You don’t sound opposed.” You blow him a kiss. 

“Never.” He stands close enough for you to lean a hand on his shoulder. 

“Close your eyes Molly. I have a surprise for you.” Molly closes his eyes but you see him peak so you flick his nose. This time he closes his eyes proper. You take out the trinket you had made from the bracelet and ring; a beaded gold chain with a rayed sun and ruby centre stone, and begin attaching it to the other jewellery around his horns. You give him a kiss to signal he can open his eyes. 

“What did you-“ You flick at the new addition to his collection. 

“A little gift. I thought you’d prefer it over the coin. Though if you need the coin you can borrow mine.” Molly inspects the sun and recognises the ruby cut. 

“You little-. Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He peppers you with kisses as you lower yourself out of your split and to the floor. 

“Many times but I don’t mind being reminded of it.” You give him a smug smile as he pulls you in a deep kiss. 

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

When you pull apart Mollymauk places another kiss to the top of your head and you lean your head against his shoulder living in the moment. You stand in each other’s embrace for what feels like an eternity, yet still an eternity too short. Every second is as valuable as the next so you bathe in each moment you get. You’re you and he’s him and that’s all you’ll ever need. 

[r6sblitz]

Happy Valentines day! I don’t have an AO3 but I am debating on making one. Nevertheless, I haven’t written anything fictional since middle school so if it’s bad...at least I have an excuse.

It’s Valentines week, and Montagne needs a date to get entry to the fabled Valentines party. I wonder who it’ll be? (This fic is mild, just some kissing, a little less than 5k words, Montagne/Blitz)

Montagne turned the paper over, inspecting both sides. Valentines was coming up once again, and as per tradition Rainbow threw a huge Valentine's party at whatever hotel ballroom would let them. He's heard the stories of past years--like the one year someone made a "punch" that was nothing more than a concoction of pepto bismol and fruit punch. Or how every year would end in someone finding a couple making out in numerous secluded areas. The Frenchman himself had never been to any of the outings, as the big bold print at the end of the rose colored flier always barred his entrance.

    ‘Must have a date!’ it read in it's silky letters, mocking him. 

It was no secret Gilles loved a good party, especially one where he could engage with his fellow peers. Sadly though, he's yet to find a date. He's thought about just taking a friend and lying, but his poor communication skills also factor into his inability to lie.

    With a sigh, he places the flier next to his plate, eating his lunch in peace. That was, until two familiar faces joined him at the table.

    "Hey Gilles!" Emmanuelle's warm voice brought a smile to his face as he watched her and Rook sit across from him.

    The two very much reminded him of his siblings when they were younger--bright and protective, but they could be mischievous at times. Montagne hasn't even had a chance to greet her back before the flier is snatched from across the table by Julien.

    "Planning on attending this year?" he asks with a smirk. Emmanuelle's smile brightens, "Oh it's so much fun Gilles! Please tell me your coming."

    Gilles gives a waning smile, "I haven't got a date."

    Julien let out an amused huff, "As if that's ever stopped Bandit from sneaking in and stealing the snacks."

    Twitch gives him a fake slap to the shoulder, "Don't be mean!" she turns to Monty, "What he means to say is don't feel bad for not having a 'date'," she says with air quotes, "you could just bring a friend. I'm sure everyone would be happy to see you there."

    Montagne rubs the back of his neck, "I'm not so sure. I feel it is...out of the spirit?" The two across the table share a confused look unbeknownst to Monty, Julien simply shrugging his shoulders in response. A few moments of silent eating pass before Julien speaks up.

    "Well...is there anyone you're close to? Maybe you could use this chance to get to know them a little bit better?" he asks before sticking another forkful of food into his mouth and winking.

    Montagne chews the inside of his cheek a moment, cogs in his head turning. He honestly hadn't had a romantic relationship in decades, deeming his job too important to have something take more of his focus away. But if it was a fellow operator...No. That was equally as bad. Job relationships were known to crash and burn when they went south, and with this job they needed exactly the opposite of that. However his mind wanders to the relationships of Rainbow--how despite so many disliking and downright hating each other, it hasn't caused catastrophic issues.

    "I think you might have broken him." he faintly hears Emmanuelle giggle, causing him to snap out of his thoughts.

    "Well, Valentine's isn't for another week, so there's plenty of time to think it over." Julien says, standing with his empty plate and bidding farewell.

    Emmanuelle searches her empty plate a moment, trying to find the right words for the older man. 

Eventually, she picks up her plate, "Try not to think too hard, I say just go with a friend. Who knows what might happen!" and with that he is left alone once again. He peers down at the pink flier and it's swirling text, pocketing it as he too exits from the cafeteria.

--------------------------------------

The note has burned a hole into both his pocket and his mind. Every time he casually puts his hands in his pockets, or reaches for his wallet or phone, he is reminded of it and it's connotations. The past few days he's been taking Julien's advice, thinking about who he would want to bring given the chance.

    When he's practicing his shooting, he thinks of Thatcher, has to admit the elder man is rather handsome. Though he highly doubts he's gay or bi or whatever sort of things people call themselves these days.

    A technology session with Dokkaebi has him wondering about her, but quickly stuffs the idea--she's much too young, he'd feel like a creep asking her.

    After training, a few cuts bring him to Gustave. He too admires him, both for his looks and for his dedication. The two made small talk as Doc inspected the cuts, seeing if they needed stitches or if a heart covered bandaid would do. Montagne laughs at the bandages, oddly cute for a man like him to have, to which Doc sighs and explains someone must have replaced the regular ones with these--the name of the culprit not explicitly said but known anyways.

    "Are you attending the Valentines party?" Montagne asks as he pulls the sleeves of his coat back over his now Valentine themed arms.

    "I do actually," Doc replies offhandedly, busily putting away the peroxide and bandages, "do you?"

    Montagne shakes his head, pushing himself off the gurney.

    Doc hums in response, “Well if you can’t find one, don’t feel bad for bringing someone more platonic.”

“Emmanuelle told you didn’t she” Montagne sighs, rubbing his face. The younger GIGN members had good intentions but, sometimes they were a bit too much for the old man. 

Doc chuckles, “My lips are sealed. Take it easy friend.”

Montagne leaves, spending the rest of his free time pondering a potential partner and wondering who the hell Doc is bringing as a date. His pacing has led him to the upper floor balconies of the base, one of the many enhancements from their old station at Hereford. He sits on a relatively new cushioned bench, watching wistfully as the setting sun stains the sky a deep orange and the clouds purple. It seems he is destined to not have any time to himself as the glass door facing out onto the balcony opens with a quiet squeak. A familiar figure in a puffy white jacket steps out.

        Blitz.

    The younger man strides toward him, "Hey, mind some company?" he asks.

        Montagne shuffles a bit, making room for the german to sit down. He does, with a long winded sigh.

    "Hope I'm not interrupting anything." he chuckles. Montagne smiles back at him and shakes his head. The two enjoy the sunset in peace, though Montagne's mind is elsewhere once again.

    Why hadn't he thought of Elias earlier? The german was one of the first people he ever met when Rainbow was conceived. He remembered back to when he was first working with everyone, how he enjoyed Blitz but first thought him naive, or a thrill seeker like Smoke. However as time went on, he found it was the total opposite. Occasionally the german would regale an enthralled younger operator about his time in Kosovo, or in India, or wherever he was stationed in between. Oftentimes the story would horrify them, sometimes along with any older ops within earshot, but he'd lighten the mood by bringing in a happy ending, or following it up with a lighter story. The two also shared morals--the need to protect and make sure everyone was safe regardless of their own situation.

    The more Gilles looked at Blitz, the more he began to see. He was kind and pleasant to be around, and had even been helping Montagne improve his english skills. And yet it seemed he was spending less and less time with the german, whether due to more responsibilities or more operators to deal with or a combination of the two. The fact really saddened him, just as they were becoming good friends, they were beginning to drift away.  

    With his mind lost, he failed to notice Blitz had turned and was now staring at him.

    "Er...is there something on my face? Please don't tell me it's marker again, it took me weeks to get that doodle of my neck." he groans, beginning to pull out his phone to check. Montagne shakes himself of his thoughts.

    "Ah no, I was just wondering-are you attending the party this weekend?" he asks, unusually nervous.

        Blitz tilted his head, "No I'm not, though I have been curious as to how Dominic manages to sneak in every year." he says, putting his chin on his fist in thought.

Before Montagne could reply, the man interjects, "I have an idea, do you have a date?"

Montagne nods his head no.

    "Great! We could go together!" he says as if it's just a casual everyday line. Montagne gawks at him, unable to process what's happening until Elias explains further.

    "I've always wanted to know how Dom gets in, and I assume you want to go cause well," he vaguely gestures at the frenchman, "it's your type of thing. It's a win win! Unless, you didn't want to go?"

    Montagne blinks, waving his hands in front of him, "Oh yes, yes I do." He says, and is surprised he sounds slightly disappointed.

    Blitz hops up from his seat, "Great, this will work out perfectly. See you on Saturday?"

    "8:30 sharp" Gilles hears himself mumble with a smile. With a lazy salute, the younger man leaves Montagne alone with the rising moon and an odd feeling in his stomach.

------------------------------------------------------

 It had been a long time since Gilles had gone shopping for clothes. Typically he’d wear whatever was supplied, and rarely dress up in an old tuxedo that forever sat in his closet. But with a little egging from a certain two GIGN members, they convinced him to go out and buy some nice clothes for once. So now Gilles was inspecting a large map of the mall along with Julien and Oliver, the latter coming along in place of Twitch who claimed she wanted the three of them to have some “guy time”. After a few moments of inspection, Oliver points to the shop.

    “Looks like it’s downstairs, toward the east entrance.”

    Julien groans, “Should’ve parked at the other lot.”

    The three set out, passing by various clothing boutiques, kiosks of toys and gadgets, and sickly sweet dessert stands. Their leisurely walk leads them to a large outlet at the other end of the mall. As soon as they enter, they’re immediately bombarded by the staff, who manage to wring out of them that Montagne was buying an outfit for his “date”. He’s corralled into a changing room and given several different dress shirts, jackets, and chinos before Julien and Olivier manage to drive them off. 

    He takes his time, putting on the matching sets before coming out and asking the two’s opinions. Gilles almost instantly regrets bringing the two along--both of them manage to find something or other to downvote an outfit. His latest attempt is simple, a peach colored dress shirt with tan brown dress pants. His hands are folded on his chest, exhaustedly listening to his two countrymen.

    “Hmm I don’t know Gilles, I think the shirt is too close to your skin tone.” Julien tuts.

        “Why did they think that was a good color to make pants out of, it looks like they're made of—” Gilles stomps back into the dressing room before he can hear the rest of Olivier’s sentence.

 It wasn’t an easy feat to make Montagne frustrated, but after nearly an hour, he found himself at the end of his rope. The hangers clatter as he inspects what he’s worn and what’s been tossed to the wayside. A pair of black pants and black shirt are the last two items.

 He disrobes before shouldering the shirt on, mumbling to himself that if they didn’t like this one, he was just going to wear his old tuxedo. After putting on the outfit, he takes a moment to inspect it in the thin mirror at the back of the changing room. At first he thought the shirt was just a plain black, however the sleeves bare an intricate lacework of swirling gold vines and roses. The pants have a similar, smaller pattern along the seams going down the outside of the legs. 

It’s probably one of the more risque things he’s worn, though nothing will top his April fools butterfly armor, but he takes a deep breath and walks out. To his surprise, the two of them are stunned into silence.

“That looks...amazing!” Julien beams. Olivier nods his head in approval. A nearby store attendant comes by and gushes about the outfit, doing their best to flatter Gilles who takes the compliments with a fake smile.

Montagne lets out a relieved sigh, quickly zipping into the changing room and paying for the clothes before he’s hounded anymore. The three of them merrily made their way back to the other side of the mall, finally getting to the car and heading back to base.

—————————————————————————————

The day of Valentines was like any other day. Training, training, and more training. Though the regiments didn’t seem as intense, the day ending earlier than usual and Montagne found his muscles weren’t as sore as they normally would be. He showers at his dorm, taking his time. Personal bathrooms were among many of the luxuries afforded to them at his base, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate some privacy every once in a while. After he’s done, he dresses in his new attire, and stands in the mirror. He fiddles with his shirt collar, adjusting it this way and that. He’s oddly anxious, a feeling that’s rare for the older man. He couldn’t help but chuckle at himself, years of firefights and hostage situations and he’s scared over a date. Not even--it’s just a friendly outing to get in. Despite his initial excitement for the party, it’s turned into mild disappointment. With a deep sigh, he hopes to at least spend a little time with the german.

Gilles stuffs his wallet and phone into his pocket, and opens the door, and heads toward the parking lot.

    Upon arrival at the hotel, he’s surprised to see just how many operators were milling outside the ballroom, waiting to get in. He’s toward the back of the line and is still nearly half an hour early, but he isn’t alone for long. 

    “You’re early! And it looks like everyone else is to.” Elias says as he makes his way next to him in line, “You look amazing by the way!” he beams. Despite the low light Gilles swears the younger man is blushing.

    “Thank you. You look nice as well.” he says, scanning his partner’s outfit. He’s cleaned up nicely, though his hair is a bit tousled, likely the work of Lera. His skin tone contrasts perfectly with his wine red dress shirt and black pants. The two wait in line patiently, which can’t be said for some of the others. A tug at Montagne’s sleeve gets his attention. He looks down to see Blitz discreetly pointing at someone further up the line, follows his direction and spots the person in question.

    “Dominic?” Montagne whispers.

    “He’s alone, you think Ash is going to let him in?”

    Montagne shrugs, “We’ll have to wait and see.”

The booming voice of Clash from the front silenced all the chatter. She announces the beginning of festivities and the door opens, allowing the guests to file in one couple at a time. Slowly but surely the two make their way to the front, watching in awe as Ash and Clash let Dominic go in sans date. 

    They were about to enter the crowded ballroom when Blitz stopped him.

    “I have to ask,” he says, addressing Morowa, “why’d you let Dom in?”

    Clash snorts, “About time someone asked me about that. I owed him a huge favor--he fixed my shield during a firefight and probably saved my life. When I asked him what I could do to return the favor, he said he just wanted to get in here every year.”

    Elias quirks an eyebrow, “Seriously?”

    “Seriously, now off you go, have some fun.” she ushers the two in, who slow down to take in the sights and sounds. Outside of rumors, Montagne didn’t actually know what the Valentine’s party actually looked like. The ballroom was extremely long, ending with an empty stage except for a small table and something under a cloth. Scattered around the room were large round tables fit with white lace table skirts. The dim lights, in addition with the added pink and red lights casting small bubbles of light, shower everything in a soft glow. To the left of the entrance, a row of long tables, nearly stretching to the end of the ballroom, house seemingly every dessert and cocktail in existence. Montagne is sure if he ate one of everything from there, he wouldn’t survive the night.

    His hand is still in Elias’s as the younger man guides him away from the entrance toward the center of the room. Montagne takes a moment to appreciate just how warm he is, his hand heating Gilles’s forever cold ones. Through the sea of people he manages to spot Emmanuelle and Gustave. He must have slowed down a bit to see them clearly, as Elias turns around, before he too manages to spot the pair.

    “Why don’t you go over and chat, want anything to drink?” he asks.

    “Just a bit of champagne, thank you.”

    “You got it.” Elias replies, and soon he is lost amidst the waves of couples. The mountain of a man manages to squeeze his way over to Emmanuelle, who’s arm in arm with Caveira, chatting with Gustave. The two women are in wildly different dresses--Emmanuelle in a short strapless navy blue dress that fringes as it goes down, while Taina confidently sports a bit longer obsidian color dress, the long sleeves and low cut accentuating her long jet black hair. Twitch perks up upon seeing Gilles, waving him over.

    “You made it! I knew you’d find someone.” she says with a grin, which soon turns devious, “so, who’s your date?”

    Montagne scans the room, pointing out Elias at the opposite end holding two drinks and engaging in small chatter with Dominic, the other german’s hands holding as many desserts as humanly possible. It takes a few attempts for Emma to see, until Taina helps guide her vision.

    “Oh, Elias! Good choice.” she says playfully. Both her and Taina giggle, striding off to mingle elsewhere. 

    “I’m glad you could make it Gilles.” Doc says, looking comfortable in a barely blue dress shirt, hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark grey slacks.

    “Glad to be here, though I do have to ask-”

    Doc tilts his head.

    “-who in the world did you bring as a date? I never found out.”

    The medic barks with laughter, shaking his head, “You were really concerned about that? I brought Mister Baker,” he points to a gaggle of men nearby consisting of mostly SAS with the exception of Adriano and Aria. Lo and behold Thatcher was among them, waving his hand at a comment Seamus made. 

    “Ah. I didn’t realize you two were together.” he states bluntly.

    “It’s only been a few months, we wanted to keep it relatively low.” he states, “So, how long have you been with Elias?”

Montagne rubs the back of his neck, “In all honesty, he just wanted to see how Dominic got in.”

    Doc hums in acknowledgement, “I see. Well, you two enjoy the party, try not to drink too much.” he says, splitting off to join his partner. Thatcher takes to him casually, looping an arm around his back and resting his hand on the doctor’s hip. The little gaggle are surprised at first, that is until Smoke undoubtedly says something raunchy, which earns him the stink eye of both men. Montagne can’t help but chuckle at the site of it all.

    “Gustave and Mike huh, can’t say I saw that one coming,” Elias says. Montagne turns to find he’s returned, drinks masterfully held in one arm while the other teeters two plates of dessert foods. Gilles quickly grabs his drink and food, relieving the other man of his juggling duties, which he thanks him for. 

    “You could have asked for help.” Montagne jokes, taking a sip of the sparkling champagne. It’s a lot sweeter than normal, but he has no doubt everything at that table is more sugary than it should be. 

    “It’s ok, didn’t want to interrupt your conversation.” he replies softly. There’s an unplaceable look in his eyes as he stares at the liquid in his glass, before taking a chug. Montagne still swears there’s a blush to his cheeks, but the lighting still obscures the colors of his face.

    The two chat, occasionally accompanied by another couple, but mostly they talk amongst themselves. Montagne learns a lot in their chatter--like how Elias is pretty good at a lot of sports, but can’t shoot a hoop to save his life. Or that he was in a choir when he was younger, but never pursued music because he’d choke up on stage, though he can’t help but sing while doing the dishes. In turn, Gilles tells him tidbits about himself. Tells him his love of old country guitars, tells him he hates the winter because he gets so cold, tells him he of the times he and his brothers would sneak into their sisters’ room and hide their dolls in odd places around the house. The last one getting a good laugh out of the younger man.

    After what seemed like hours of talking, Ash walked up on stage and addressed them all.

    “I hope everyone’s been having fun! Now it’s the moment you’ve been waiting for!” she announces, lifting the cloth off both the table and large obelisk on stage. They reveal a turntable and huge speaker accordingly. The lights somehow dim even further, leaving most of the ballroom in shadow. A large portion of the dance hall lights up under a disco ball, its tiny mirrors casting orbs of light that twirl on the floor. Anyone who was sitting down immediately jumps to their feet, grabbing their partners and guiding, or in some cases dragging, them to the dance floor.

    Montagne watches wistfully as the operators sway slowly with the beat of the music. Castle picked a good song, an old one he recognizes from the many times it’s played while someone’s cooking or cleaning on base. There’s a pressure on his shoulder. When he looks it turns out to be Elias’s hand.

    “Do you...want to dance?” he asks, and this time Montagne is certain the man’s face has gone red. He smiles, takes his hand and the two of them go to the outskirts of the dance area. 

    “Sorry if I step on your shoes, I have two left feet.” the german chuckles. 

        They waltz and step to the music, making small movements so as to not step on each other, but soon they get into a rhythm. Elias has rested his head on Gilles’s shoulder, while the older man feels like he’s having a revelation. Everything felt just so right. Like god has molded Elias to fit perfectly in his arms, and that Gilles was sculpted to perfectly hold Elias. It felt so good, Montagne never wanted to let go.

    They danced. And danced and danced, until the music stopped. Gilles wasn’t even aware that most of the operators left, save for a few stragglers trying to get their drunk dates to a hotel room for some sleep and water. Elias still had his head buried in the space between Gilles’s neck and shoulder.

    “What time is it?” he heard him mumble.

    Montagne reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

    “It’s almost one in the morning.” he said as Elias pulled away. The older man felt himself missing the contact, the cool air of the ballroom almost immediately replacing the younger man’s warmth. 

    “Can’t believe you made me dance past midnight.” he joked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a forefinger and thumb. 

    “Someone mentioned free hotel rooms…” Gilles murmured.

    “At this point, I don’t mind paying. I don’t want to drive home.” Elias yawned.

——————————————————————-

Everyone he had talked to about the party seemingly forgot to leave out that the hotel booked one room per two guests. One room with one bed. How cliche. But at this point Montagne didn’t really care, snagging to key from the receptionist. He met up with Elias, who was sitting on a chair nearby, looking ready to pass out.

“We get a room?”

“Yes, I hope you don’t mind sharing the bed.” Gilles replied. 

Elias just shook his head, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. The two made their way out of the brightly lit lobby to a nearby hallway. Thankfully they didn’t need to go far--their room was on the first floor. 

“Oh hey,” Elias perked up, stopping Gilles, “do you mind if I get a water real fast?” the younger man pointed to a closed door, the sign tacked on it read ‘Ice and Vending Machines’. Gilles let him go, waiting only a few seconds before Elias popped back out, face a lot redder than before.

    “Is everything...alright?” Gilles asked, eyebrows furrowed.

    Elias cleared his throat, “Ah yep! Just uh, well. Now I know just how intimate Taina and Emma are.” he stuttered.

Montagne couldn’t help but chuckle. 

The room appeared before them after a minute of walking. Gilles swiped the card, clicking open the door and flicking on the nearest light. The room itself was cozy, the walls a warm tan color against a navy blue carpet. Though small, it still had a countertop with a coffee machine and mini fridge stuffed underneath. Popping it open, Gilles took out two water bottles, handing one to Elias. With a small thanks the younger man chugged it down, sighing when finished. 

The two stood in the room. The tension in the air was tangible, like a static buildup. But Montagne let the feeling pass over him, and didn't want to impose on the younger man. Elias took a step forward.

“I, uh, had a really fun time tonight.” finally meeting Gilles’s eyes. 

“I’m glad.” he hummed back. Elias took another step forward.

“If you wanted to do this next year, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” he said gently, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. They were close now, barely inches away. Gilles leaned down a bit, taking in everything he could. From the wrinkles shirt, to his reddening ears and messy hair.

“And I…” he begins, but cuts himself off. Their faces are inches away, perfect for kissing.

And so they do.

It’s a step beyond incredible. Montagne hasn’t felt this elated in years. Elias’s lips are surprisingly soft and as warm as the rest of him. He tastes like champagne and chocolate, fitting for someone as sweet as him. They stay there a moment, simply enjoying the touch as they continue to kiss, Montagne winding his arms around him. After what seems like hours, they eventually part, breaths still close enough to intermingle.

Elias laughs, embracing Gilles back, “So now that we got that out of the way, can we sleep now?” he jokes tiredly.

Montagne pecks the top of his head, “Of course mon amour.”

It takes an enormous amount of effort to get to bed, neither of them wanting to move, to let go. Gilles makes the first move, taking a hand and guiding Blitz to the bed. They kick off their shoes and climb into the bed, which was thankfully big enough for the two of them. Not like it mattered--as soon as both were in bed they huddled close, Montagne wrapping an arm around Blitz’s waist, and Blitz slipping his feet between Montagne calves. They sit in silence for a moment. Gilles can feel the younger man sigh against his neck as he rubs circles in his shoulders.

“Goodnight Elias, I love you.” Montagne hums. He’s not sure if Elias hears him at first, the shorter man’s head is stuffed under his chin, until he hears him squeak a reply.

“I love you too.” 

Montagne grins, letting the warmth of the other man overtake him, helping him drift to sleep. 

[set-phasers-to-whump]

can’t eat, can’t sleep, running on empty

hello!! i am back with bthb and kurt whump! this fic is set sometime after s1, kurt has gone back to work at the police. the title is from cheap beer and nicotine by littleDEATH. hope u enjoy!!!!

It is one in the morning, and Kurt Wallander is at work. He hasn’t moved in hours. His eyes are glued to a case file open on his computer screen. An almost-empty coffee mug sits beside his elbow. It’s been filled and emptied five or six times tonight already, its contents being the only thing Kurt has ingested for quite some time. 

Kurt tears his eyes away from the screen for a moment and yawns. When he looks back at his file, he discovers that his eyes are refusing to focus on the words. He reaches for his coffee, drains the last of it, then slowly shuffles over to the coffee pot to pour himself a new cup. 

This case is important, which is why he’s at work so late. It’s his first case since coming back to the police, the first case he’s been put on, rather than unwillingly shoved into. He has to do a good job, has to prove himself. Hence why he’s surviving on bad coffee and staying at work long past midnight, coming in (if he bothers to leave at all) by six every morning. 

By the time he feels like he’s finished with the file for the night, it’s no longer night, but instead five in the morning. No point going home, he figures, getting up to put on a new pot of coffee. 

With nothing else to do, Kurt sinks into his chair, thinking he can maybe catch a bit of sleep. But it’s no use. He’s too worked up from thinking about the case to sleep, or maybe just too caffeinated. Whatever the reason, his body refuses to rest, which he thinks is probably for the best. He doesn’t fancy having a nightmare in front of the night shift, and lately, it seems like nightmares are the only thing he gets when he closes his eyes. Just another reason to work late, he figures. You can’t have nightmares if you don’t sleep. 

Kurt sits there, letting his thoughts wander about aimlessly, until he’s jolted back into reality by a tap on his shoulder. He startles and whips around, blinking as the action makes his head swim.

“Early start today?” Rask asks. Kurt nods. 

“Nice initiative,” she tells him, then drops a stack of papers onto his desk. “We’re going to speak to witnesses after lunch today. Until then, paperwork.”

Kurt groans inwardly. He hates paperwork, especially lately. It takes up too much valuable focus, focus that could otherwise be directed towards solving this case. Not to mention the fact that his hands are shaking in a way that is definitely going to be noticeable in his handwriting. 

He can’t just not do the paperwork, though. So he resigns himself to the task, pouring yet another cup of coffee, barely cognizant of the gnawing feeling of hunger in the pit of his stomach and the back of his throat. 

Six hours later, Kurt has finally finished the paperwork. He would’ve finished it sooner, most likely, but his vision had kept going blurry, and no amount of coffee had been able to fix it. Plus, at some point, his thoughts had started to really wander, and he’d found himself incapable of making them stop. He’d think of Reza, finally moving up to Major Crimes next week. Then he’d think of Mona, currently in Stockholm with Gustav Munck for a charity event. Then he’d think of explosions and smoke and blood. Then he’d snap out of his thoughts and focus back on the paperwork in front of him. Then he’d think of Reza...

He is relieved when 12:30 rolls around and Rask comes up to his desk. She gives it a sharp tap, pulling Kurt out of another thought loop. “Are you ready to go?” she asks, though it’s not a question. 

Kurt nods anyway, then stands, balancing himself for a moment against his desk when the world tilts slightly. He follows Rask out to the parking lot wordlessly, sinking gratefully into the passenger seat of the car. 

Neither of them says a thing for several minutes. Kurt stares out the window, trying his best to keep his eyes open, ignoring the now more pronounced aching in his stomach and throat. He’s fine. He slept a few days ago, probably. He’s had plenty of coffee. He’s fine.

Rask finally breaks the silence when Kurt fails to stifle a yawn. “Are you alright? You seem a little...off.”

Kurt nods. “I’m fine,” he says, reflexively.

“Good. I need you focused and alert for this.”

Kurt nods again. This is a vital part of the case. He knows that. Without these witnesses, there’s little hope of catching their suspect. If they don’t catch their suspect, then he’ll have failed. Again. They have to catch the suspect. This is important. He can’t fuck it up.

--

“That was an incredibly important part of the investigation, and you completely fucked it up!”

Kurt winces. He knows. He hadn’t asked a single useful question. He hadn’t been able to answer the questions that the witnesses had asked him. He’d barely spoken at all, as a matter of fact. He just hadn’t been capable - words would enter his brain and then leave immediately, like water through a strainer. He hadn’t been able to focus on a single thought for long enough to formulate a sentence. And he’d been growing steadily more nauseous, so that even if he had managed to come up with something coherent to say, he wouldn’t have wanted to open his mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” is the only thing he can say. “I didn’t…” he trails off, eyes drifting closed for a second before he forces them back open. 

Rask drives back to the police headquarters silently. Kurt doesn’t even have to look at her to know she’s fuming. He deserves it, he knows. He’d slipped. Badly. He just hopes she won’t kick him off the case, kick him out of Major Crimes. He’s put everything he’s got, and more that he really hasn’t got, into this. He needs it. 

The second they’re back in the building, Rask is pulling him into her office and closing the door. She pushes him towards a small couch in the corner. “Sit,” she says, and Kurt complies, swallowing nervously. He has a feeling he’s about to get very harshly yelled at.

So he’s understandably surprised when, instead of towering over him and chewing his head off, Rask sits down next to him and asks, in the softest voice he’s ever heard her use, “when was the last time you slept?”

He very nearly starts crying right then and there. Not just because of the sheer concern that’s laced into her voice, but also because he really does not know. Maybe he’d fallen asleep for a few moments this morning. It’s possible he slept a couple days ago. He knows he slept at some point before Mona had gone to Stockholm eight days ago.

“I don’t know,” he confesses, feeling vaguely ashamed. 

“You’re exhausted,” Rask supplies. “What else?”

Kurt shrugs. He doesn’t want to do this. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s not okay. He stubbornly wipes a tear away from under his eye. He can still be fine.

Rask sighs from beside him, and Kurt thinks for a moment that she is going to leave. He can’t decide whether or not he wants her to. 

She doesn’t leave. Instead, she places a hand on his shoulder and asks, “when was the last time you ate?”

He thinks of the copious amounts of coffee he’s had over the past several days, and realizes he’s had little else. The thought makes him feel faintly sick, and he swallows harshly before saying, again, “I don’t know.”

Rask does leave then, and for a few moments Kurt sits alone on her couch, willing himself not to cry, to be fine, to get up and go back to his desk, back to work. But it’s no use. He can’t force his exhausted body to move an inch. 

His eyes fly open as the door to the office opens and then closes, quietly. Rask is back, and she has things in her arms which his eyes are stubbornly refusing to focus on enough to figure out what they are. Something lumpy, he thinks. Something vaguely round, possibly.

She sits back down next to him and hands him one of the items she’s brought. He stares at it for a moment, trying futilely to think of what it might be.

“It’s a sandwich,” Rask supplies, pulling some of the paper away from it. 

Kurt tries to hand it back. Some part of him recognizes the fact that he’s desperately hungry, but a larger part of him insists that he shouldn’t eat it. That he’s fine. Or, at any rate, too nauseous to eat anything.

“You need to eat something,” Rask insists. “You’re not going to feel any better until you do.”

Sensing that there’s little point in trying to argue, Kurt takes a small bite of the sandwich. It’s not very good, but the second he swallows it he’s taking another, more out of instinct than a true desire to keep eating. 

Rask pulls the sandwich away from him when he’s eaten about half of it. “Slow down,” she tells him. “This is the first real food you’ve had in a while. Don’t overdo it.”

Kurt nods distractedly, finding himself thinking again of Mona, and sandwiches, and the rain, and the question when was the last time you ate? and his answer amounting again to much the same - that he wasn’t sure. 

“Drink this,” Rask instructs him, pulling him back into the present. She’s holding out a bottle of water. Kurt accepts it, somewhat reluctantly, and drinks a small amount. It feels much nicer than coffee as it goes down his throat, and it doesn’t settle so heavily in his stomach. He drinks a little more. 

Eventually, Rask gently pulls the bottle away from his hands and sets it aside. Her hand once again comes to rest on his shoulder, and he slowly turns his face to look at her. 

“I told you not to destroy yourself,” she says. “I told you you were too young to have your world turn to shit.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says, because he can think of nothing else to say. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I’m sorry.” 

A tear slides down his cheek before he can stop it, and then another follows it, and then another. He tries to turn away, to hide himself, to cling desperately to the notion that he is okay, in some shape or form. But something deep within him, something still soft and hurting and aching to be held, stops him from shutting everything out. He looks helplessly at Rask instead, and for a second, a similar helpless look ghosts across her face, like she isn’t quite sure what to do, like she’s broken too, but then it goes away and she pulls him close to her and holds on.

It should be weird. It should be really fucking weird. Rask is his boss. She’s tough and talented and in charge of him and she is holding him and he is crying. He should be embarrassed, uncomfortable, pulling away. But she’s holding onto him and saying something about this kind of thing happening to basically everyone in this job, and her shoulder is really soft, and the couch is surprisingly nice, and he finds that all he really wants to do is stay.

Rask, for her part, doesn’t pull away. She lets him cry for an indefinite amount of time - he can’t be sure how long. All he knows is that, eventually, the tears stop rolling down his face, and he feels the familiar wave of exhaustion roll back over him. God, he’s tired.

As though she’s a mind reader, Rask says, “why don’t you try to get some sleep, Kurt. There’s not much left to do today, anyway.”

That sounds good, he decides, for once not thinking of nightmares. And before he can do any further thinking on the matter, his eyes are slipping closed. He feels himself sink into the couch, face pressed into the cushion. Someone removes his jacket and his shoes. A soft blanket is draped over him. And for the first time in several days, Kurt lets himself fall asleep.

aaaaa thanks sm for reading this!!!! im not sure if they might have been ooc but hopefully not! i hope u enjoyed and please let me know what you think!

[catcorsair]

I knew someone was bound to ask me for a baby-related fic eventually. Unless you wanted her getting pregnant... oh no I think I’ve done this one wrong...

Anyway, this one’s for you, Anon. (Rated G. I know, who am I, right?) Enjoy!

----

"Shut it up," came the bitter shout, echoing from the underground music-room, down the hall; Christine could hear the unmistakable sound of a folio striking the far wall and spilling out upon the stone floor, as the rancorous voice continued, with an echoing clamor as if the keys of a great instrument had been struck down upon, "damn that thing and it's infernal bleating––Christine, shut it up!"

In the living-room before the hearth, Christine Daaé soothed her son, bouncing the crying child in her arms and humming an old Scandinavian tune her father had often sung to her in her youth.

"I am warning you, woman!" roared her husband from afar; instinctively, Christine turned her back to the sound, clutching the boy closer to her chest, kissing his red, screaming cheek and wishing she were anywhere but where she was. When Erik’s shouts had dulled to only murmured curses––and she had deemed her husband's wrath of the sort that would not lead to further violence, this time––Christine sighed, tucked her son in the crook of an arm and settled once more into the rocking chair before the fire.

Erik had presented her with the chair only weeks ago. To Christine now, unfastening the row of neat ivory buttons atop her breast with trembling fingers, years might have passed since that convivial time.

‘You will need a warm place to nurse our boy,’ her husband had said gently, guiding her to sit in the gift with his usual, careful touch. The old, rigid leather armchair had been hauled away; the new, cushioned rocker took pride of place before the fire. 'Do you like it? Will it suit?' He knelt before her as she sat, pressing his thin lips to the roundness of her living belly. 'He will be beautiful, like his mother,' he whispered, meeting her gaze with that strange yellow stare, his reverent fingers clasping her own.

'Beauty counts for very little,' Christine had reminded him, and touched her lips to the soft, broken flesh of his naked forehead.

Only three weeks later the boy was born with a face just like his father’s, and Erik had refused to regard him since.

Ever the Phantom, now her husband appeared silently at her side; Christine gasped as the baby startled, throwing its pale arms in the air and crying out a single wail. "Oh, Erik, you gave me a fright!" she chastised him, hurriedly soothing the alarmed child, “you mustn’t sneak up on us like that anymore––”

"I told you to quiet it, Christine," Erik growled, eyes narrowed, "if you cannot do such a simple task as this, what good are you as a mother?"

She swallowed the insult. "All babies cry, and ours is very well behaved, overall. Come," she insisted, beckoning him closer, "hold him. Please, Erik––you would love him, if you would only hold him––"

"Love it? I do not want to look at it," he scoffed. "Christine, if you would only let me rid you of it––it would only take a moment to put it out of its misery––"

"You will do no such thing!" she hissed, wrapping her arms tightly about the gurgling bundle and pulling it close to her chest, "how can you speak such horror? Erik, he is your child!"

"It would be a kindness," he answered bitterly, under his breath, glaring down upon mother and baby. "I wish someone had thought to do the same for me."

Christine outstretched an open palm to her husband. He refused it, casting upon the gesture a look of arrant disdain; in the flickering fire light, his yellow eyes shone glassy and bright.

"I am so sorry, Erik," she breathed, and let the hand drop.

He kicked idly at the masonry at the base of the hearth. "I would not curse my worst enemy with a life such as mine, Christine––"

"I know."

For a long moment their eyes met, a silence heavy with unspoken truths; and then, as Christine broke free to return the fussing child to her breast, Erik coughed and looked away, fixing his stare to the crackling fire and clasping his long fingers behind his back.

"So you will keep it," he said after several long minutes had passed, punctuated only by the sussuring of the flames in the hearth, Christine's hushed lullaby, and the sleepy suckling of the child, "what have you named it?"

"Him, Erik," she said gently, without glancing up from the bundle in her arms, "his name is Gustave."

"You would dishonor your father's memory by giving his name to a monster?”

"He is no monster." She stroked the child’s misshapen cheek. "He is a baby."

“Christine, foolish woman, look at his face!” Erik spat, turning. Water glistened about the dark eye-holes of his mask, brusquely, he wiped it away with the flat of a palm. “Look at it! You have birthed an abomination, and I am to blame. This is my curse, that I have set upon you! Forgive me––I never should have done this to you. I never should have allowed myself––don't you see? Our son will be hunted, hated. His life will be miserable––”

"No, it will not, Erik." She bent and kissed the small, gaping hole at the center of the baby’s face, just above the tiny cleft lip, then smiled brightly as he fixed his yellow eyes to hers and babbled a canorous string of gentle coos, "I am his mother. And I love him."

----

Yes, I am still doing these! I’m back and slower than ever.

Even so, feel free to keep sending me prompts y’all! I have a bit of a backlog of them but they’ve all been so great that I’m really going to try to get to them all, even if I’ve started combining some. ;) I’ll keep slowly plodding along (not in any order though, I’m sorry! I do have four that turned into longer fics, so hopefully they’ll be worth the wait.)

-Cat

P.S. As usual, I stuck this in Far Too Many Notes for My Taste, if you are interested in keeping track of them!

[msbluebell]

In the captured!AU, let‘s pretend for a moment that Jeralt didn’t die. He wouldn’t just be protective-dad, he‘d be livid-almost blind with fury-dad. Then upon being reunited with his kid he would be nothing short of a supportive father helping his child through a horrible trauma.

Ooooooooooooooooooh ho ho. You. You keep talking Anon, because this prompt is as delicious as Mac and Cheese.

Jeralt has always been silently protective of Byleth. He once set a building on fire, faked his death, and ran off for twenty years just to protect Byleth from Rhea. Byleth is his ONLY child, one of the last things he has of his wife, and many people in game remark how openly proud of his child he is and how much he very obviously loves them. Jeralt may not be the most emotional parent, but he’s a loving, reasonably protective, good father.

So if he survived Monica’s assassination attempt (which I’m going to say still happened, but he survived because Monica’s aim went off when Byleth tried to interfere and she only wounded him) and made it to the war he’d be...destroyed for lack of a better term. 

I find it funny that English doesn’t have a word for parents that outlive their children. We have one for a child that outlives their parent, and a spouse that outlives their spouse, but we don’t have one for a parent that outlives their child. I think we need one, because I can’t imagine something so painful. You can move on from a spouse, but moving on from your child’s death? That’s the kind of bitter, stinging, empty pain that I think would be so difficult that for some it would be impossible. Yeah, we should have a word for that. The Germans have a word, Verwaiste Eltern,because of course they do, they have a word for everything. I once saw a Duke article that argued we should use the word Vilomah, because we use the term widow, which is Sanskirt.

Either way, I think the pain of a parent losing their child is so devastating that it deserves it’s own word. Or...maybe...the reasons we don’t have a word is because, for a loving parent, the pain is so great that they can’t even bare to imagine a word for it.

Jeralt is probably one of those parents that never even considered outliving his child.

In the game he repeatedly mentions his own death, and makes plans and takes steps for if HE dies. But he never once brings up Byleth’s possible death. I think, in his mind, while he OBJECTIVELY knows it’s a possibility, he never once registered it as something that could legitimately happen. For him, Byleth’s death is a far off thing that’s going to happen LONG after he’s gone. He’s taking steps to ensure Byleth has a long and happy life. He’s giving them his wife’s wedding ring, the only other memento he has of her, so they can start finding their own happiness and setting up their own life. These aren’t the actions of a man ready to lose his child at all.

So when the war happens, and Byleth is lost, he’s devastated. 

He’s probably not worried at first, because it’s a battle and Byleth is strong and they’ve probably just been delayed in their escape. They’ll be here soon. The safe spot is good for days.

Then a week passes.

Then two.

It’s not safe to stay in this spot anymore, and Byleth still isn’t here, and there’s a pit forming in his stomach, and his men are starting to think it’s maybe time to tell their bass that there MIGHT be a possibility that maybe, if it’s been this long, their kid ain’t coming back. But no one wants to outright SAY it because, well, how do you tell a man his only child might have been killed?

They’re forced to flee, after a while, because with Imperials marching everywhere and looking for enemies it’s just not safe to stay in one spot for too long. So they run.

As time goes by, Jeralt is starting to think his kid may not be coming back.

Jeralt isn’t an emotional man. He’s always had trouble expressing his feelings. He’s not the type to burst into tears, or plan a wedding the moment someone he knows starts liking someone else. Jeralt is made of quite things, quite moments. He’s the warm hand on your head, the cup of morning coffee that gets you through the day, the small and proud smile when you win, and the shoulder to cry on when you lose. He’s a quite parent that’s quietly supportive and honest when you need him to be.

But when he realizes Byleth isn’t coming back, he cries. It’s not loud sobbing, but a stream of quite, steady, tears that roll down his face. He doesn’t do it in front of his men, he waits until he’s alone, sitting on a rock and facing away from their direction, and he whips them away before he goes back to them. 

(He didn’t need to. His eyes are red. They know. But they’re gracious enough not to comment)

He goes back to try and find the body, when it’s safe, but he never does. And it’s that just cruel? First life takes his kid and now he can’t even bury them. He at least got to bury his wife.

Jeralt decides that, if he can’t even bury the body, than he might as well try to do something Byleth would want him to do, since they’re not here anymore. He’s lived twenty years protecting Byleth, he can spend the rest of his years fighting for the life they’d have lived. The only thing he can think of is protecting those students of theirs, so he heads towards Faerghus.

What he finds is a damn mess.

The King Regent has been assassinated, and now Cornelia is in charge, and Dimitri was supposedly killed. Half the country is sworn to the Empire and the other half is putting up a resistance. Jeralt sighs heavily and points his men toward the resistance, where he thinks Byleth’s students would be set up. He’s pretty sure the two lords in charge of it are parents of her students.

He’s welcomed by Rodrigue with a sad smile. Rodrigue knows what it’s like to lose a child (and, oh, what pain that causes. It swallows you whole. And nothing makes it better. You can tell yourself they died for something good, that they died right, but that only makes your other child hate you), and he’s very sympathetic. He wouldn’t have said no to the extra forces even if Jeralt wasn’t there, but his heart is soft for another parent that’s known such loss.

Jeralt serves as both a tactical adviser and a captain for his forces. He also helps Rodrigue and Gustav try to track Dimitri (Byelth had really liked that kid, he remembers. Byleth had mentioned him a few times, anyway, which was a lot for them, so Jeralt figures there must have been a lot of fondness there. He doesn’t have the whole story, and now he kinda wishes he did so he’d have something to say, but he’ll have to contend with trying to find the kid), but the kid is slippery as and eel and good at staying hidden. Jeralt is honestly impressed that the kid is so good at surviving when the entire Empire is hunting him down. Even HE can’t find the kid and he’s good at his job.

He tries to take care of the other students in the meantime. He tries to visit them when he can, check up on them, make sure they’re healthy. It’s what Byleth would want. And, to be honest, he’s growing quite fond of them himself. Annette is a sweet girl, and so is Mercedes. And Ashe is a good kid that he can see going far. Felix is intense, but Jeralt knows deep down he cares a lot, maybe too much, and he’s just guarding his heart. Sylvain he keeps out of trouble too, because he seems to find it a lot. And, really, they don’t fill the hole Byleth left behind, but they numb it for a bit and that’s the best he can ask for.

He never gets over Byleth’s death, and the lack of funeral, but he’s able to at least live a meaningful life for them. That’s not enough, but it’s something.

Then, one day, Rodrigue comes to him with a letter from the Alliance.

Byleth is alive.

Byleth is ALIVE.

His child is alive.

Claude wrote out all the details from his “reliable source I have in Enbarr”. Byleth was captured in the battle five years ago after falling off a cliff and being knocked unconscious. They’ve been held in solitary confinement in the top of a tower in Enbarr for the last five years. The reasons no announcement from the Empire has been made is because Edelgard is keeping them as her personal prisoner and not a political one, and the reason his spies haven’t found out about this sooner is because Byleth is confined to that single room with no access to the outside world, no windows to spy through, and no one but the most trusted staff allowed within a tower full of traps and mazes. Apparently, according to Claude, only Edelgard’s inner circle are even allowed to deliver meals.

Jeralt is...livid to say the least.

Rodrigue is barely a third of the way through the letter, reading it to a horrified council, when Jeralt slams his hands on the table and throws himself up, knocking back his chair. He’s marching out the room in moments. When Rodrigue asks where he’s going he just gruffly and furiously spits out, “Enbarr.”

It takes all of Rodrigues power to stop him, furiously chasing after the enraged man and trying to talk reasons and sense into him. Telling him that he can’t go alone or he’ll die, and that they need to increase their army, and that Gustav found another lead on Dimitri so give them time to get him, and the Alliance and they could combine forces, and they’ve gotten into contact with Seteth recently so they could gather the remaining Knights of Seiros. The’ll rescue Byleth, that will be a top priority, but they need TIME and FORCES.

Jeralt is not having it. He argues back. That’s his KID in there, trapped like some sort of...of...of PET. They’ve been stuck there for YEARS while he’s been wasting time. And you wouldn’t be so calm if that were GLENN.

A silence falls over them, and Jeralt realizes he’s made a terrible mistake.

He sighs, rubbing his forehead. He knows that was uncalled for. That was massively uncalled for. He says that, and he apologies. But Rodrigue shakes his head, saying he’s right, if that were Glenn he’d be acting like this too, and there’s no need to apologize, and he’s heard worse from Felix anyway (and Jeralt should really get those two to actually sit down and TALK sometime before it’s too late). Jeralt says that there is, because Rodrigue is right, he can’t get Byleth out on his own. It’s just...that’s his KID. That’s his kid and he thought they were DEAD and now they’re ALIVE and they’re being kept as a PET away from them and he can’t stand it.

Rodrigue puts his hands on Jeralt’s shoulders and promises that they’re going to get Byleth back. That it will be one of the first things they do. He swears his life on it.

Jeralt nods and says the same about Dimitri.

Turns out, Rodrigue was right to stop him, because a few weeks later they’re at Garreg Mach, and both Byleth AND Dimitri are there, showing up together like ghosts returning from the dead.

And, shit, both kids have had a rough time of it. Dimitri is half mad and feral from being hunted in the woods for five years, and some clearly unresolved issues have only made him worse than ever. And he’s glad that Rodrigue is still holding up the front in Faerghus because he doesn’t want him to see his kid like this.

Byleth isn’t much better. They’re not half mad like Dimitri, but captivity wasn’t a good look on them. They’re wearing Empire Red silks and they’re pale as a ghost. They can’t stand outside too long without turning pink as a big, but they can’t stand to stay inside either. They won’t even sleep in their room anymore, taking up a spot in the chapel. And Dimitri is always standing by them too, half mad but ready to skewer people at a moment’s notice if Byleth asks it. 

It’s...hard for him to see his kid like that.

He can’t huge his kid for too long anymore, because they don’t like feeling trapped. So even though he wants to hold them tight and never let go, he has to let go quickly or they’ll start to panic, and that will set Dimitri off, and he’s like a guard dog as it is.

Most nights Jeralt sleeps in the chapel with Dimitri and Byleth (though he has yet to see Dimitri actually sleep. It’s more like he just stands there, looming over everything. It’s unnerving, downright disturbing, and Jeralt is legitimately worried that Dimitri may have trained himself to sleep standing up or something. Or worse, not sleep at all. It explains why he’s gone mad for damn sure, and he makes a not to try and pump Chamomile in that kid and try to get him a nap because maybe that’ll help calm him down. It helps Byleth get to sleep these days. Lavender and Chamomile. And him being there). Byleth doesn’t really wake up screaming from nightmares, but when they do wake up they always end up panicking for a moment before looking around, making sure there’s sunlight and a place to escape. It breaks his damn heart.

He has to help Byelth get used to sunlight again. They need limited time, even though all they seem to want to do most days is lay in the grass. He has to herd them back in though, before they’re burned. But every day they get a little more time. It’s slow going, but he thinks it helps. 

Still, he can’t help but hate Edelgard. He has his kid back, but Goddess above, look at them. Dimitri and Byleth are both a wreck at best, and he and the others have to take care of them and get them back on their feet for the battles ahead (which is hard, because Dimitri only listens to Byleth, and sometimes even that isn’t reliable if he gets too lost on the battlefield. Still, it looks like for the most part Byleth has got Dimitri’s recovery in their hands, and Jeralt has Byleth’s so it’s FINE).

When the day comes, he’ll kill that Edelgard woman himself if she even looks at Byleth wrong. He’s going to destroy that tower and scatter it’s stone across the seas. 

He’s going to help these kids get better, and rub it in the world’s face. He’ll look every god in the eye and spit in their face before he lets anything bad happen to them ever again.