#did i really spell financially right

[theskeletoninthegarden]

Anxiety is looking up apartment prices just because your roommate has happily been in a relationship for a couple of months

[onskepa]

Left behind: You promise?

Hellooooooooooo everyone! Now the story will really starts kicking! Hope you guys enjoy this one!

Left behind series

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

Third pov

It was like looking at his own dead body. There he was. His twin brother, his other half, dead right before him. Jake found it a bit cruel, his brother studied hard to be in a position to go to another planet, to be with the big science guys. Only to be killed by a simple, pointless crime. 

He didn't want his little girl to see her dead uncle. It would break her heart. It was only a few days ago they all had a cup of coffee and luxury sweets called cookies, did Tommy break the news. That he would be leaving Earth for the ideal planet called pandora. To make connections with life over there. 

It was a bittersweet goodbye since the travel to pandora is 5 years. 

It was best to not tell his little girl that her super smart uncle is dead. Best that she believes he left to space.

Third pov

“I'm sorry, WHAT?” 

“The RDA wants you to take your brother's place and continue what he couldn't even start”

Jake was at a loss. He needed to mourn for his loss but the officials couldnt even give him 5 fucking minutes. 

“The RDA wants me, a crippled ex-marine, to join them? What use would I be to them?” Jake asks, feeling a bit pissed off by the second. 

“More than you know. You see Mr. Sully, your brother was going to join the Avatar program, it is a section of the RDA where scientists use a body that looks like the pandorian natives. Those bodies costs billions of dollars to make. And not being used is a huge waste” one of the officials said, almost in a robotic way. 

“So?” Jake shrugs. 

“You have a 100% accurate DNA of your brothers avatar, they want you to join in the program and do the mission that was given to tommy” 

Jake scoffs. Slamming his fists against the table. 

“You want me to leave this place, leave my kid behind. Mind you, just to get to that planet takes 5 years! 5 years of me being gone away from my kid! The hell is wrong with you?!” he shouted. Jake was ready to leave them and just get back to his home, back to his daughter. 

The two officials looked at each other, having a silent conversation in their eyes. 

“Mr. Sully, I don't think you are in a position to reject this” 

“Oh, why the fuck not?” Jake tilts his head, almost ready to laugh out of his insanity. 

“We know you are financially unstable. Barely scraping by, making a clown of yourself in low cheap bars. Can't even give a good education for your kid. Jake, you are at the bottom of the trash, and even with your useless legs, you can't crawl up. But hear this. If you join the RDA, your daughter will be given the best education we can give her. All employees who work for the RDA, if they have kids, are given the utmost care. School, shelter, a chance in life” 

It was like a spell. 

The more those bastards talk, the more tempting it sounds to jake. 

His kid getting everything he can't provide? School? A warm bed? 

“But…..it's 5 years……10 years to and from…thats….that's too much I would be missing so many years of my kid…” Jake says rather weakly. 

“Oh jake….many parents make the biggest sacrifice to give their kid a better tomorrow. If you truly care for your kid, you leave her behind”  

Jake’s pov

“You are leaving…?” Her voice was weak. 

God damn it this is going to be a lot harder than I thought. 

I accepted the Devil’s offer. I will take my brother's place in exchange for my daughter having a better future. Sad to think it might not have me involved. But there is still time, she is still a baby. By the time I returned she might be a moody teen but still a kid. 

“You are not staying with me daddy?” my little angel asks. Her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes reflecting mine. 

“It won't be forever, baby, just for a little while. Uncle tommy needs my help” 

It took everything for my voice to not shake, my girl is a smart kid, she will sense my heart breaking. 

She crawled on my lap, her little face eager. “I wanna go with you!” she whines. Shaking my head I had to explain to her. 

“I'm sorry baby, but where I am going, kids are not allowed. Too dangerous. Its safe you stay here”. 

“With Miss Morve?” she questions. God I wish. 

“No, Misses Morve is too weak, you will be going to a school that will take good care of you. Doesnt that sound nice? You get to go to school like you always wanted. Make friends and eat all the yummy foods we see on the holograms. Doesn't that sound great?” I do my best to make it sound good. 

But stubbornly, she shakes her head. 

“It's not great! You won't be here! I wanna stay with you! You said it daddy! Sullys stick together!” 

My little girl started to cry her little heart out, and I followed. Hugging her really tight, we cried for a bit. 

“Don't leave me daddy!” she wails out. 

“I won't baby, I will always be with you. It will just be for a little while. It may feel like forever, but I will come back. I promise love” I tried to reassure her. 

Feeling her pull back a bit, I can see her eyes puffy red, tears still flowing out. God, seeing her cry makes my heart ache. My little angel does hold my heart in her hands. 

“You promise?” she asks, holding out her pinky finger. 

I intertwined my pinky finger. 

“I promise. No matter what baby girl, I will come back. Sullys stick together” 

Third pov 

Handing the handlers his child’s only luggage, Jake gives his daughter one last hug. But this hug will be the last for who knows how long. 

Jake’s little girl was crying her soul, not read to really let go at all. Wanting to be with her dad forever and ever. 

“Don't leave me please!!” she begs. This was really hard for Jake. Hard for both of them. And it took jake everything in him to not change his mind. To say no to the RDA, to take back his child and go back home. But this was for her. This was for the little sully girl. To give her everything she could ever want, it required the biggest sacrifice. And that was letting go. 

“I'm not leaving you. I will come back, I promise with my life babygirl” jake says. Giving her so many kisses. 

Sniffling away her tears, his little princess leaps up to give Jake a kiss on the cheek. 

“Be good, ok? Make friends, study hard, and before you know I am back for you” 

But little Sully was still scared. 

“You won't forget about me?” she asks, wanting to make sure her dad won't forget. 

“I could never forget you. My angel, my sunshine in the rain, my little princess "Jake praises. 

Wiping away her tears, his little girl takes a deep breathe. “You promised daddy. Sullys stick together…” she says, her voice shaking. 

“Sullys stick together, forever” 

Third pov 

“And there they go! Off to the beautiful planet Pandora '' the teacher says as she shows to her class the live recording of the RDA employees in the transportation ship leaving the Earth's atmosphere. 

Among the astonished woas of the little ones, little sully was watching the ship with her careful eyes. A small tear leaving her eye. There goes her daddy. But he will come back. He promised. So, if she is a good girl and does everything, her daddy will come back for her. 

He promised. 

Right?

I am so pleased with how it turned out! Tell me what you think! Until next time! See ya!

Like the story? Put your name on the taglist for the next update!

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

Taglist:

@boobitchhehe @heart-an0n @justcaptiannoodles @mochacoffeeumai26 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @skittlebum @teyamsbitch @ratchetprime211 @iwannabeapinkaesthetic

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part Eleven)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest (at this stage accidental), Age Gap, PTSD, Domestic Abuse, Self-Harm, Fluff, Smut

After the earth-shattering revelation that Thomas Shelby was your long-lost uncle, your world was turned upside down. The truth weighed heavily upon your shoulders, casting a dark cloud of desire and forbidden love that enveloped your every thought.

Yearning for a real father figure and a sense of belonging, you found solace in Arthur's attempts to embrace you as his own. Yet, deep within, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions tugged at your heart. The news of Arthur being your father was a bitter pill to swallow, especially as you had already fallen under the spell of Thomas. Despite the twisted nature of your newfound familial ties, an undeniable thrill coursed through your veins at the mere thought of him.

Polly, ever perceptive, was aware of your forbidden desires. In due course, she orchestrated your induction into the Shelby Family, much to your mother's displeasure. In the midst of a family gathering, you were welcomed as an equal, officially cementing your place within the Shelby clan.

Within weeks, Polly took you under her wing, unveiling the intricacies of the Shelby name. She showed you how to navigate the treacherous waters of their empire, providing you with the tools to forge your own path. In her tutelage, you learned the art of negotiation and gained the confidence to command respect from those who once stood above you. Your transformation did not go unnoticed, as your newfound assertiveness radiated like a beacon.

Linda, resentful of Arthur for allowing your rise within the Shelby Company Limited, would often remark, "You truly are a Shelby." In the bustling office, you commanded attention with your sharp wit and no-nonsense attitude. Even the other Peaky Blinders marvelled at your ability to tackle any challenge that crossed your path. Your formidable uncle, Tommy, couldn't help but be drawn to this "new you."

"I see you've settled right in, taking charge like a true fucking Shelby," Tommy proclaimed proudly upon his return from the United States, where he had forged an alliance with Al Capone.

A mischievous twinkle danced in your eyes as you replied, "Indeed, Tommy," fully aware of the captivating presence you now possessed. Tommy's gaze lingered upon you, unable to tear himself away from the magnetic force you had become.

As such, his desire for you quickly resurfaced when he returned to the office after you had last seen him three weeks ago, and this desire was now becoming stronger with each day.

Your desire for your newfound uncle, however, had never really been extinguished even though, deep down, you knew that this forbidden infatuation could never be. The more you tried to fight it, the harder it seemed to resist.

Now that he was back in Birmingham, this was going to be problematic, and you could not help but tease him, making sure that he knew that you still did not care about the fact that he was your uncle.

Thus, one day, as you were engrossed in analysing some financial documents, you became aware of a pair of intense eyes fixed upon you. Raising your gaze, you caught Thomas giving you that infamous Shelby smirk, glimmering with a mixture of admiration and something darker.

"Enjoying the view, Tommy?" you quipped, unable to resist the temptation of toying with your uncle and letting him know that you knew he was watching you. After all, power breeds confidence, and confidence tempts fate.

Thomas leaned against the door frame, his voice dripping with the perfect blend of arrogance and desire. "The view is quite remarkable indeed, but it's not the scenery that has captured my attention, Love," he mused, and the air between you crackled with an intoxicating mix of tension and attraction.

“I didn’t think it was, uncle,” you teased and little did you realise just how deeply Tommy still desired you, his thoughts consumed by the forbidden possibilities.

***

As days turned into weeks, though, the flirtation between you and your uncle escalated. The stolen glances, lingering touches, and suggestive banter left a trail of electric anticipation in the air.

However, Tommy, consumed by his position and familial responsibilities, fought tooth and nail to keep the burgeoning attraction at bay. He knew all too well the dangers of allowing desires to steer his course, especially when they involved his own flesh and blood.

Reminding yourself of the bond you shared as a family, you tried to suppress the growing feelings within you as well. This was a line that should never be crossed again, no matter how tempting it may be.

One evening, though, as the sun dipped below the Birmingham skyline, you found yourself alone with your uncle in his dimly lit office. The cogs of desire turned ceaselessly in both of your minds, threatening to break free from their self-imposed restraints.

"You know damn well what you're doing to me, don't you Love?" Tommy whispered his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.

“I do, Thomas and I am enjoying it. You were the first man I have ever slept with, and I most certainly don’t have any regrets, even after finding out that we are related,” you smirked before a moment of tense silence hung heavy in the air like a thick fog, the unspoken truth lingering between you. The forbidden fruit was tantalisingly close, the taste both bitter and alluring.

“But, I respect your decision. I know how important the elections are for the company, and I also know how important you are to this family of which I am now part. So, I won’t stand in your way,” you reassured your uncle, your voice filled with a mixture of admiration and apprehension. The weight of the upcoming elections for the company and the significance of your role as a member of this esteemed family was not lost on you. You knew that your uncle's leadership was crucial, and you didn't want to impede his progress.

As he stepped closer, his presence enveloped you, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. It sent shivers down your spine, igniting a desire that surged through your veins. The intensity of your emotions was almost overwhelming, but you managed to maintain your composure.

His response was immediate, his voice dripping with an intoxicating blend of passion and confidence. "You could never stand in my way, Love," Tommy declared, his gaze locked with yours. It was as if time stood still at that moment, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of vulnerability wash over you.

A shy smile played on your lips as you absorbed his words. "No?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. Tommy's hand gently caressed your face, his touch both tender and possessive.

"No, never," he assured you, his smile radiant as he pulled away slightly. He seemed to savour the tension between you, revelling in the unspoken connection that bound you together. "I have a gift for you," he revealed, his voice filled with anticipation.

With a delicate flourish, he presented you with a beautifully wrapped parcel. The vibrant green satin dress nestled within shimmered in the soft glow of the room. Its luxurious fabric seemed to come alive, whispering promises of elegance and allure. It was a testament to the exquisite taste and attention to detail that Tommy possessed.

You couldn't help but be captivated by the dress, its beauty mirroring the complexity of your emotions. It symbolised the delicate balance between duty and desire, representing the choices you were faced with in this intricate dance of power and love.

"Before I knew that you were my niece, I had something special planned for your birthday. This no longer seems appropriate now as it involved a date at the pictures and several hours of fucking. But I wanted you to have this dress anyway, as it was custom-made for you. It should fit you perfectly, and perhaps you could wear it at your birthday party next week,” Tommy exclaimed, hearted.

The beauty of the dress filled you with conflicted emotions - gratitude, desire, and a tinge of sadness. You couldn't ignore the fact that Thomas had desired you before discovering your blood connection. It was a bittersweet gift, a reminder of the love that could never be.

***

The day of your birthday had finally arrived, and Polly spared no expense in hosting a lavish celebration for their newest member. Arrow House was adorned with twinkling lights and fragrant roses, the grandeur of the occasion evident in every glittering detail.

As you walked down the sweeping staircase adorned in the green satin dress gifted to you by your own uncle, the room fell silent. All eyes were on you, the long-lost daughter of Arthur Shelby, now officially welcomed into the Shelby Family.

The dress clung to your curves, accentuating every tantalising inch of you. Thomas, unable to resist the sight before him, felt his desire for you intensify with each step you took. It was as if the very air around him crackled with a forbidden energy.

He couldn't tear his gaze away, mesmerised by your beauty. He cursed himself for the wicked thoughts that danced through his mind, yearning to touch and taste what he knew he could never have again.

The music swirled through the room, a melody of voices and laughter, yet all Thomas could hear was the pounding of his own heart, a wild beat that threatened to expose his desires to the world.

In a quiet corner of Arrow House, beneath a veil of shadows, you mustered the courage to approach Tommy to thank him for his generous gift. The ache within you had become unbearable, the desire to kiss him consuming your every thought.

“Thank you for the dress,” you told him almost shyly as his penetrating gaze met yours, and you could see the struggle in his eyes.

“You are welcome, Love,” Tommy responded as he looked at you, desire mixed with guilt, creating a tempestuous storm within his troubled soul.

"You look stunning in it, just as I had anticipated,” he whispered, his voice tinged with need. It was a dangerous game he was playing, his words a tantalising invitation into the forbidden depths of his desires.

Lizzie Stark, who had harboured affection for Thomas for years and who was carrying his child, watched your interaction with a mix of envy and resentment. The rivalry between you and Lizzie had always existed, but now it had become intertwined with the complex tapestry of desire and blood that bound Thomas to you.

She knew about past intimacy between you and Tommy and thought that all of this was in the past now that you were part of the family.

“Lizzie is clearly still worried about you and me,” you smirked, causing Tommy to chuckle as you both noticed her eyes on you.

“Well, Lizzie has always had a dislike for women I am associating myself with, and you are clearly no exception,” Tommy acknowledged, causing you to laugh.

“But you are not associating yourself with me anymore. She, of all persons, should know that now that she reminds me of our family bond every day, referring to you as my fucking uncle,” you said with some annoyance in your voice, causing Tommy to chuckle.

“Does she now?” Tommy chuckled, causing you to nod.

“Yes, Uncle Tommy. She does. And perhaps you should have a word with her about it and tell her to stop being so pitiful,” you told Tommy before you beckoned him with a mischievous smile.

“Now come, I need to show you something,” you then told your uncle before leading him upstairs to one of the guestrooms in Arrow House, and as Tommy followed you silently, desire burned hot between you, pulsating with a fierce urgency.

“Show me what, Love?” Tommy ought to enquire as, confidently, you pulled him into the empty room before, in the dimly lit corner, you pressed your lips against his with a passionate fervour, your hands exploring his body with a mixture of longing and desperation.

It was a kiss laden with desperation, a passionate struggle against the convictions that threatened to tear you apart. For a fleeting moment, nothing else mattered, and the world outside that room ceased to exist.

But just as quickly as it had begun, Thomas pulled away, his face a maelstrom of regret and self-reproach. "No," he said, his voice ragged and filled with torment.

His grip on your shoulders tightened as he tried to find the words. "Y/N, I am your fucking uncle,” he said, his voice thick with anguish. It was a reminder that echoed through your mind, a harsh reality that threatened to shatter the fragile illusion of forbidden love.

“Yes, I know, but it is also my birthday, and I am already drunk on the champagne,” you told him, realising once again how much you still loved him as, in your eyes, disappointment mingled with frustration.

Thomas looked torn, his resolve waning under the weight of his desires. But his sense of duty fought fiercely against the raw passion that had entwined your souls. It was a battle for his moral compass, and he knew it would forever change the dynamic of the family if he surrendered to temptation.

"I can't Love. It's not just about us. It's about my fucking reputation, the elections, and everything that holds our family together, and you fucking know that, don’t you, eh" he repeated again, using the same words that he used on you two weeks ago. His voice was heavy with self-restraint. His eyes bore into yours, an unspoken promise of love and longing, even as he denied himself the pleasure of surrendering.

The corner was filled with unspoken words, thick with regret and longing. The world faded away, leaving only the two of you caught in a web of desire and familial ties. The room buzzed with excitement, oblivious to the intricate dance of passion being performed in that secluded space.

Frustration coiled within you, growing with each passing second. The truth of your blood connection was like a spectre haunting your every thought. The intensity and complexity of your feelings made it difficult to see beyond the throbbing ache in your heart.

Thomas abruptly stepped back, creating distance between you as he battled conflicting emotions. He turned away, his jaw clenching with determination. "I'm sorry. I should've never allowed it to go this far," he said, his voice heavy with self-loathing, not even realising that you both were being watched.

Without another word, Thomas walked away, leaving you standing there, trembling with a potent mix of desire, frustration, and heartbreak. He walked toward the door, his footsteps weighted with regret.

As he turned the doorknob, you couldn't hold back the desperation in your voice. "Thomas, please... don't leave me here. Not like this, on my fucking birthday,” you begged, and Thomas froze at the threshold, his resolve wavering for a precious moment. His eyes were lost in a tempest of conflicting emotions. But then, with a final sigh, he stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, leaving you alone in the room, your heart shattered.

Tears streamed down your face as you collapsed onto the bed, the weight of the forbidden desire crushing you. You wondered if you could ever find a way to navigate this treacherous path, one that defied both morality and convention.

Unbeknownst to you, as you lay broken and defeated, Thomas stood at the end of the hallway. His fists clenched, his features twisted in anguish. The battle within him waged on, torn between the love he knew was wrong and the restraint he knew was correct.

Lying there, adrift in a sea of despair, you wondered how it had come to this. How had fate forged such an intricate web, weaving together desire, longing, and the damning truth of your shared blood?

You felt like you had been short-changed by life, and after wiping away your tears, you, too, put on a solid face to return to the party downstairs.

Lizzie Stark, her eyes filled with triumph and pity, brushed past you on your way down to the ballroom, her voice barely concealing her smug satisfaction. "Tommy will never truly be yours. Blood is thicker than desire,” she barked, and you resisted the urge to confront Lizzie, unable to find the words to refute her taunts.

The weight of Thomas's rejection bore down on you, suffocating your spirit and casting a dark cloud over the extravagant celebration that had once held so much promise.

As you meandered through the festivities, your mind raced with thoughts of escape. Perhaps leaving Birmingham was the only way to mend your shattered heart. But even as you entertained the notion, a part of you clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, love could conquer all in the end until, somewhat suddenly, you were approached by a man you had not met before. His name was Liam O’Connor, and he was the newest member of the Peaky Blinders. Handsome, tall and dangerous.

[tedwardremus]

Peter Pettigrew Headcanons

He came from a working-class family. Raised by a single mum

He doesn’t know his father

While he did not grow up in a blood supremacist family he grew up with the same prejudices and assumptions that many wizarding families have about muggles. He finds them odd and different. 

Peter was one of those kids who lit ants on fire and threw rocks at people while standing on bridges. Being mean = power = being important

Definitely heard his mum or grandparents say muggle-borns have it easy or get extra benefits from the government (which isn’t true) and that’s why Peter’s mum has to work so hard.

Very excited to befriend Sirius and James because of their families' positions in wizarding society. He’ll be cool and popular by association

Yes, Sirius family are dicks to him but he doesn’t understand why he’d give up such a cush life and run away. Thinks Sirius doesn’t know how lucky he has it

Has always enjoyed playing mind games with his friends and other people to make himself have better favor in group dynamics

Was always the best at getting out of detention and coming up with lies on the spot

Made the rudest jokes out of the marauders 

He isn’t dumb. He just isn’t good at school. He became an animagus at 15. He is powerful, OK? Upset that no one sees it and he can’t really brag about being an illegal animagus.

Really likes that he’s the one that gets to push the knob on the whomping willow. Makes him feel indispensable.

James and Sirius mature in 6th and 7th year and their jokes aren’t so cruel anymore. Peter is caught off guard when they start (lightly) calling him out on some of his jokes. (I thought you’d find it funny? Why aren’t you laughing anymore? What, James you get a girlfriend and you can't be fun anymore?)

The slowdown in bullying is also combined with James, Remus, and Sirius's political awakening and further interest in fighting against Voldemort. Peter starts to feel alienated from their discussions. Peter is a-political at best

And like yes, James, dark magic is bad but isn’t it also cool? Like did you hear about the man who turned a bunch of dead bodies into snakes? Or did you hear about the spell that turns your guts inside out? Isn’t that impressive?? I bet you could learn that spell James, you’re powerful enough, right?

After Hogwarts Sirius and James live off their family money and devote themselves to the order full time. After Remus gets fired from a job James starts supporting him financially. Peter doesn’t have the luxury (looks like werewolves get benefits just like muggle-borns. Poor Pete is always left out)

Pete gets a job at the quidditch league offices which he thinks will be lots of fun and exciting, maybe he can swing tickets for him and his friends

But the job is really boring. He is tracking how much teams spend and data entry is the worst.

His order assignments are just as dull. He doesn’t go out on duels or covert operations. Dumbledore instructs him to get intell on Ministry offficals and Peter grows resentment, he wants to be more useful like his friends.

He gets further separate from his core group of friends as James marries Lily and eventually goes into hiding (peter thinks James is foolish for getting Lily pregant. way to mess up our fun, James!), Remus is doing super secret werewolf stuff, Sirius is off on his own order missions plus becoming increasingly protective of the potters. 

Peter starts meeting up with people at work, not death eaters but just a few people with storng ideas, and he’s like yeah, these guys are right muggle-borns and half-breeds are ruining our society

And he doesn’t hate Lily and Remus, no they are seperate from the developing idelogy. 

But then after a while his intell gathering and workmate meet-ups start to become his only social settings. And he is agreeing more and more with what they are saying

And he impresses the people he is gathering intell on with some of his knowledge on dark spells (not that he’s every performed them. He’s just interested in reading about them)

Its been a long time since Sirius and James found him impressive or amusing 

He goes to a couple of meet ups, and then a couple more

He enjoys these meetings more than order meetings. He doens’t feel underappreciated. 

He gets invited to a bigger meeting and oops its got full on known death eaters attending

James and Lily are fully in hiding. Voldemort is wining the war. 

Peter thinks he might as well just do what he needs to do to survive, everyone else is doing the same. But he's not going to be like James and hide like a coward.

And if he is going to survive he is going to be useful, important. In a better position than he was in the order. And then he’ll use that new position to help his friends when the war is over. He is so clever!

He willingly becomes a spy for Voldemort. He enjoys it. Its the best he ever felt about himself. He has secrets and information. He’s important.

He gets tested on his loyalty and is told to kill order members.

He actually enjoys murdering people (he is a serial murder in the books!) Reminds him of the same feeling he got when he threw rocks off of bridges but bigger.

He continues to climb up the Death Eater power structure. He enjoys watching the chaos unfold in The Order as they can’t figure out who the spy is

James asks him to be his secret keeper. He has a choice to make and he shows who he really is. He chooses power and manipulation over protecting people he used to (supposedly) love

And while this was all going on its important to remember that James, Remus, and Sirius all would have died for Peter. He was their friend. The betrayal is painful. The radicalization went unnoticed

[ddollfface]

Hii~ it's me again.

You said The Athlete has siblings right? How is he with them? Or just generally with his family, as of current day?

Also, (with Childhood bestf Darling) what would he do if they had a crush? What if it was one of his other team members?

Nobody can convince me that the absolute black cat of a darling I have in mind would ever have a crush in a normal way.

At first, darling is crushing hard on someone, doesn't really realize it, but a certain other guy does. Then, when darling does realize, they do everything in their power to push that person away and I imagine he's right there, on calls with them late at night as they complain about their crush, because-

"he's horrible, right? And he doesn't even like me. Ugh. I hate him so much. He's cruel, and selfish, and arrogant, who'd like a guy like that?"

Insert our boy with the sweetest, "Of course, pumpkin. He's horrible, you know what he did last summer..." (Cue him telling darling about the most atrocious thing darling's crush ever did.)

- 💗 (Making an OC to ship with him is not a want, it is a need. Also, I absolutely love your writing style. The way you slip from third person writing to first person dialogue is really cool.)

𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

"When I looked into his eyes, I knew he was the one." Trigger Warnings; bad writing, spelling errors, vague baby trapping, reader can get pregnant, both yandere and reader have baby fever (self-insert lol), reader and yandere are 18+, descriptions of sex, sex is brought up, talking about yandere's bad childhood, yandere is a lovesick fool, 18+ If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ I'm splitting this ask into two different things 'cause it's easier on my tiny brain (I also think they're two completely different asks, so yeah). Also, my writing style (where I slip into thrid person) is inspired by @depravitycentral's writing, their literally so good, please go read it:)))

Okay, okay, so let me tell you about LoveSick!Athlete and his childhood, more so his siblings. LoveSick!Athlete is the oldest, though he does have an older half-brother. He's not too close to him, and he was never around. This means, that in the family dynamic, LoveSick!Athlete was the oldest.

Now, after him, he has a little sister, who he is very, very, very close to. Her name is Nayda and she's only a year or two younger than him, they have the same dad, who is a complete scumbag btw.

After Nayda and LoveSick!Athlete there's the twins, who are only two years old. They have a different dad from Nayda and LoveSick!Athlete. They're interracial babies (meaning they're a mix of black and white, in this situation), and this has caused a whole bunch of issues for LoveSick!Athlete and his mama. Especially since where he's from, people aren't the most accepting of interracial couples. There have been far too many times when these old ladies will make too many assumptions with their grabby-ass hands, leading to a whole assortment of problems.

LoveSick!Athlete is close with his family and he feels very protective over them, particularly toward his mama and sister. This is partially because they're women and he has a, slightly, closeminded view of women. He sees them as something he needs to protect. He was raised to never, ever hit a girl, ever. That was seen as unacceptable and it was something his mama would be pissed over.

However, this doesn't mean that he thinks women shouldn't work or anything, it's just that he feels an instinctual need to protect women, even if they can handle themselves. This stems from his unstable childhood; how he would see his mama struggle, both financially and romantically. Because she was the only woman he ever really interacted with, rather than his sister, he grew this instinctual, primal even, need to protect women based on his experiences of watching his mama.

Then there's the twins, Bijan and Abbas, who LoveSick!Athlete isn't too close with. Of course, when he's home for holidays, he always, always helps his mama and stepdad with taking care of the unruly toddlers. He enjoys taking care of them, but he doesn't really see them as his siblings, seeing as he was already out of the house by the time they were born.

Though, LoveSick!Athlete does have a good relationship with his stepdad, seeing as his stepdad is a far better man than his pa ever was. His stepdad was his mama's therapist (ooo interesting dynamic), and he really helped his mama through the filling of a restraining order process (it was against his pa). He even calls him dad, something he never did with his pa. LoveSick!Athlete's mama always makes them have "bro-time", as she calls it. She wants her two favorite boys to get along, and it warms her heart every time she sees them sharing a moment, usually, it's a conversation relating to her.

LoveSick!Athlete respects his stepdad as both a man and a person; he believes that he'll take good care of his mama when he isn't there, which is his top priority. He wants his mama to have a stable life, for her to get out of the projects, and have a nice home. LoveSick!Athlete, no doubt, is a mama's boy and always has been. He loves his mama to death and would love for you to meet her. He thinks she'd absolutely adore you, and she does (from what she's heard about you).

Due to how many siblings, and cousins, this man has, he's very, very, very good with children. Out of all of his cousins, he's the third oldest, meaning that he had to take care of all the younger kids. He was always left giving the baby the bottle or picking the twins up from school.

It wasn't his favorite thing in the world, being a babysitter, but it never bothered him too much as he's very good with kids. Babies seem to just relax around him, giving his mama much relief. He just has this atmosphere around him that kids just seem to love.

LoveSick!Athlete likes how energetic kids can be and how they seem to have a rose-colored view of the world. Their overall optimism really brightens his day and he can't help but let his mind wander, thinking of what your children would look like. Would they have your eyes? He hopes so; he really thinks your eyes are beautiful. The way your iris shimmers under light; how he can see his reflection in your eyes. It's like he can see right through you; your every emotion is reflected in your colorful eyes. Whatever you're hiding or refusing to tell him, he can see in them.

Sometimes, LoveSick!Athlete will just sit there and stare at you, without your knowledge, of course. While you two are on a date, he'll just watch you stuff your mouth, unaware of his peering gaze. He just can't rip his eyes away from yours; he sees his future in them, your future together. You'll catch him, eventually, staring at you like a lovesick idiot. And he'll just shrug, after all, he can't deny my feelings, sweetcheeks. You're far too easy on the eyes to not stare at! Don't derive a man from a good view, yeah?

He'll smirk, leaning his cheek against the palm of his hand, and smile slyly.

He's very subtle with his little baby fever spurts. He'll periodically have moments where he'll feel this overwhelming need to breed you, to make your tummy swell with his children. He wants to make you the mother of his kids, to make you a sweet, little mama. He knows you'd be great; you'd be such a good mother, he thinks.

When the two of you are cuddling, he'll absentmindedly rub his hand up and down your midriff, letting his calloused hand trail down to right above your center. LoveSick!Athlete would hold your waist a little tighter, the thought of you all stuff with him, him, him makes him go insane.

He'll hint it to you when the two of you are going at it; your legs hiked up on his shoulders; he's plowing through you. He's never quiet when making love, as he calls it, but when the baby fever is hitting hard, he's never closing his mouth. Little gasps and pants leave his mouth, going on and on about how you're the one for him, baby. God, you'd be such a pretty mommy. Mhm- let me make you a mama, c'mon, angel, I know we're young, b-but I'll make, make it happen. Umgh- for you.

And he'll pout and whine when you refuse to let him go raw, forcing him into a condom. He'll put every excuse in the book. It's too small, 'm too gifted for this tiny rubber, babes. Just lemme go in there, I swear I'll put out(((

He won't, that was a lie, but once you get to that point, where you're all sweaty, sex is heavy in the air, and your mind is all fuzzy, you won't care. You'll forget all about that stupid condom you were so adamant about a few minutes ago. And he's so, so, so glad you did, 'cause now he can let you have all of him, and I mean all of him. The thought of you all stuffed with his cum spurs him on, causing him to tighten his hold around your, already bruised thighs, and kiss up and down your belly, his muscular form hunched over your sweaty one.

LoveSick!Athlete just wants to be a daddy :( And you won't lie, the way he dots on his younger siblings causes your heart to clench; the idea of having a family, though you're both so young, becomes more and more appealing as the days pass by. You just know he would be a good father, you can tell by how his gaze softens with he sees a woman pushing a stroller or a toddler babbling on and on about some random bird they saw.

And he knows the same thoughts are flooding your mind, and he begs you to give in to them, but you always deny it, pushing his face away from yours. You are in college, trying to pursue a career, that you haven't even started, you don't have time for a family yet, you tell him, but all he hears is that you want to have a family with him, at some point. LoveSick!Athlete just has selective hearing, I suppose, as he just grabs your shoulders and gives you an excited smile. He leans close, whispering in your ear, so you do want to have kids? Yeah? I can make it happen; I can take care of you, just wait. I can wait, just for you. We'd be such good parents, babe.

Just wait, he'll convince you, eventually. He's very persuasive, me thinks ;)

[trixree]

he is RISEN baby girl

hello hello! yes i'm alive, just very mentally ill. things are on the up and up and i have mega brainrot right now so i decided to try and get back on the "being a person" horse. you may see i've just posted some poolverine smut to AO3 here.

if you've sent me messages during my year hiatus (especially regarding commissions) I love and appreciate you and will be responding SOON, i PROMISE!

long ramble about where i'm at/life update below the cut.

May of 2023, I graduated with my masters. yaaay woo but also booo because it didn't help me get a job at all! i finally landed a paying gig in September of 2023 after sending out quite literally hundreds of applications. i only had two interviews total and a mountain of auto-rejections to show for it and it took an immense toll on my mental health. It started what was (in hindsight) a year of a prolonged downward spiral.

i already really struggled with self worth and turns out riding the merry-go-round of job hunting rejection cranked my depression up to new heights. for the first time in a long time, i found myself so low as to be entertaining thoughts of suicide. my eating disorder peaked the hardest it has since high school. i had also moved out of my parents house and in with my partner May of 2023 and was readjusting to being out of a traumatic environment. i had panic attacks anytime he came into a room too quietly and surprised me for months. I found myself isolated from most of my friends (partly because of my own communication death-spiral depression paralysis) and also because i moved to a different city than all of them to live with my partner again (0 complaints there, i love the city i live in and love my home with my partner and our bird children. however i miss my fucking friends, and the loneliness compounded the Despair Arc i was having.) My fucking health insurance changed because my previous policy holder retired and i lost some medications for a period of time, stressing my body in bad ways. a really bad spell of migraines compounded things chemically for the worst.

i borrowed some money to return to my therapist and my doc recently upped my antidepressant dose, and I can tell that both of those things but ESPECIALLY that last one there has helped already. My partner, closest friends, and even some coworkers have said I seem much better, too. I'm hopeful about it. Optimistic, even!

i did get a job working for a behavioral health nonprofit that provides outpatient psychiatric services in administration. It pays in fucking sheckles and pennies (nonprofits be like) and psych is a challenging environment to say the least. it was another 6-month fight to hammer out disability accommodations with HR. my body is a machine that consumes paid leave. as any of you that have danced an accommdations dance can probably attest, it sucks so goddamn bad. i had basically round after round of requests for my doctors to fill out paperwork that amounted to "will they get better? Are you sure? Alright, please estimate how often this person will need this accommodation in hours per week." of course it took an immense mental health toll, too. i kick ass at what i do and i do it chronically understaffed but it's really hard to feel secure anywhere when you're constantly missing work due to uncontrollable Body Bad Times (migraine, explosive diarrhea, uncontrollable vomiting, my three horsemen). especially if someone has a grudge, and someone did, which added extra layers of complexity.

i'll be honest, it's good to have something to get out of bed to go do 5/7 days of the week (i was going stir crazy without employment) but i'm running myself ragged and barely making it financially. not only was this body i have NOT built for an 8-5, i have less than 15$ to my name right now to show for it and i keep having to borrow money from my family for medication. but i truly love the people i work with and feel like i get to do good for my community where i'm at, and that's something folks!

speaking of health, i kind of got my gut stuff figured out? not really. but also yes! i don't have a diagnosis of any kind but i have a treatment that's WORKING for the constant nausea i was always blogging about last year. my GI put me on domperidone before meals and oh my god, total fucking game changer. no longer am i burping up half-digested food and walking around with 24/7 debilitating nausea AND my appetite even kicks in when i take the damn pills!!! the only down side is that domperidone is not FDA approved in the USofA because of sudden cardiac failure or what the fuck ever so i have to pay out of pocket for all of it. that's a good 150$ per month on top of all my other medication, so that's a bummer. but god, to have something that works!!! it's been so nice. no sudden heart failure yet, fingers crossed.

i have really bad executive dysfunction when it comes to responding to messages (i currently have 100+ unread text messages from friends and family) but i'm challenging myself to work through my backlog of messages in the coming days, so stay tuned if you've DM'd me in the last year. thank you for thinking of me and i appreciate you endlessly.

as for commissions, my life is just too unpredictable for me to be as consistent with those as i'd wanted to be. as much as having the bonus income was really amazing, i just feel like i'm too flakey and unreliable to deliver on that regularly and that's just a shitty thing to do to someone. (please check your DMs if this describes an interaction we had with me.)

i'm sorry if this decision is disappointing to anyone, but i think i'm going to stick to having a kofi live if folks feel inclined to show appreciation for any fic i post and maybe taking a comm very very rarely, once in a blue moon when circumstances allow. I do want to honor anyone that messaged me about a comm during my year hiatus. Please check your DMs. for my casual reader: none of my current projects on AO3 are abandoned. i've never stopped working on them this past year, even if it has only been in my notes app. i really want to start posting more regularly again. i miss the outlet immensely. I think it's good for me, creatively and for a sense of community. i hope you all understand and thank you. thanks for still being here.

[depressopax]

Nacho Varga relationship headcanons

SFW version

Fandom - Better call Saul

Pairing: Ignacio “Nacho” Varga x gender neutral reader Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort, headcanons Warning(s): Nothing explicit but sex is mentioned. Friends to lovers, situationship. Some jealousy, slight possessiveness. Cuss words, gender neutral reader (mentioned as “partner” and with they/them pronouns) Words: 1.2K Summary: Being in a relationship with Nacho Varga would include…  English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 NSFW version AO3 link

What probably started as an FWB/situationship between you and Nacho turned into something else.

It was weird, watching your lowkey emotionally unavailable friend go soft for you.

He was clueless for a long time and tried denying what he felt for you.

Nacho’s worst fear was losing you. He has a dangerous lifestyle and dragging you into his mess was the last thing he wanted.

It was not until he almost lost you, after a heated argument that resulted in you walking away from him.

After not hearing from you in weeks he realized how empty life was without you. 

After denying his love for you for such a long time, he finally realized he had fallen for you.

He did everything possible to get you to talk to him again

After finally making you agree to meet up, he broke down totally when he saw you. 

Seeing him like that reminded you of the feelings you had for him, too.

Nacho was the one to confess first

After you told him you felt the same he pulled you in for a kiss.

A kiss that differed from previous kisses with him. 

That day was the turning point to your relationship.

Dating Nacho is a bit complicated, since he has a dangerous, stressful work.

You often worry for him and he worries for your safety etc…

But you make it work.

Losing you is the last thing Nacho wants.

The things this man does to keep you safe? Jeez.

You become his first priority.

As we see in the show, he is caring and protective over people he loves

That’s right, he loves you.

He is very impulsive and takes big risks, so you often have to talk him out of doing stupid shit.

Your relationship would be a secret at first, until Nacho finds a way to sneakily take you out on dates and eventually be more open about the relationship.

One of the first things he does after confessing his love to you being introducing you to his dad

He wants two of the most important people in his life to get along.

And you do. His dad is nice to you, glad that his son has found someone that makes him smile Nacho: “So?” Manuel: “I like them.” Nacho: “Yeah?” Manuel: “Yes. You seem happy. And if they make my son happy, I like them. Don’t let them go.” Nacho: “I won’t.”

Nacho telling his dad about you - although he cringes at himself - he can’t help but express his love and tell Manuel about how amazing you are. 

The same applies to him meeting your friends/family

He isn’t that comfortable around new people but really makes an effort

He wants to get along with the important people in your life.

Dates with Nacho variates.

Either, he takes you on classic dates; dinner or the cinema

Or he likes making the date a little adventure, taking you sightseeing, going on road-trips or going to some club together etc

…Or simply more “lazy” dates. Ordering takeaway and watching movies at home, café dates or stargazing etc…

He doesn’t really mind where you are or what you do, he just wants to spend time with you and make you feel special.

He’s a bit traditional when it comes to dates and likes paying for the both of you.

Not in a way to brag, but rather to make you feel special and feel like he can take care of you. 

Not only on dates he spends money on you.

He’s the type of guy to surprise you with gifts like it’s nothing.

It’s enough with a “That jacket is pretty!” and if he’s feeling like spoiling you, it’s yours after a while.

He earns a lot of money but rarely spends it on himself, instead either financially helps his dad, or buys things for you.

Apart from gifts, his love language is touch and words. 

He loves having one of his strong arms around your shoulders at all time

He doesn’t mind PDA

Nacho is not the guy that will kiss you or make out around people, but loves holding your hand and having you close

And having you in his lap ;)

He wasn’t good at it at the beginning of your relationship - but now he’s not shy to tell you how much he loves you

Might be a bit cheesy even with his compliments

But you don’t mind, you love him being affectionate. 

The two of you call each other pet names, he especially likes calling you nicknames in spanish; Mi amor, amorcito, Cariño, mi vida Or in english: Babe, hot stuff

Definitely can get a bit possessive.

He of course let’s you have a life on your own, but gets a bit insecure or jealous if you were to spend more time with friends rather than him

He doesn’t like when people flirt with you

He trusts you, of course, but it still annoys him to see people try to hit on the person he loves

All he needs to do is stare at them in a “If looks could kill”-way and they’ll stop lol

If someone dares to be mean to you, tho? Oh they’re gonna regret it…

Someone was mean to his partner? R E V E N G E. 

He has that “scary boyfriend”-vibes and carries it with pride 

You can’t really complain, he’s hot lmao

You are one of the few people he trusts enough to vent to.

He knows you don’t judge him and loves how you just listen to his rants and lets him complain about work etc

The two of you probably has a few inside-jokes about the people Nacho doesn’t like

Nacho likes to just cuddle up to you, have you massage his shoulder while he talks about his day at work

You have a calming effect on him and he usually feels less tense or angry after opening up to you.

He doesn’t even need advice, just you listening and agreeing is enough.

He does the same for you, of course.

He’ll listen to your problems while holding you, and mutter insults about the people you talk shit about, just agreeing with all your complaints.

He’s the type of boyfriend that tries to be very supportive of your hobbies etc

Will ask questions about it, ready for a long rant about whatever it is you like

He doesn’t necessarily listen, but just loves how enthusiastic you look when talking about your passions.

He remembers small details in what you tell him so he can use it to surprise you 

Your reactions to him remembering small “ridiculous” things is everything to him.

Like mentioned earlier, Nacho has never been a relationship guy.

He has never thought about a future with marriage and kids etc.

But with you? 

One day he wants all of that - if you want it too, of course.

He wishes to start over somewhere, and do so with you. 

Nacho also wishes to travel places with you, see the world and give the world to you. 

Even if you don’t want kids, he wishes to buy a house/an apartment together with you and propose to you one day. 

Basically, he adores you with all his heart.

Boyfriend, fiancé AND husband material <33

I'm so down bad for Nacho rn, help

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Can you do headcanon of Mephisto Pheles (Blue Exorcist) and fem s/o who is a sorceress like Zatanna from Dc comics; she is serene, and kind -hearted she uses her backwards speaking spells to do magic shows on streets please?

Hi! Thank you for your request! I hope you like the headcanons!

Fandom: Blue Exorcist

Characters: Mephisto Pheles x Zatanna! gn! Reader

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

You have powers like Zatanna from the DC universe. What does Mephisto think of these powers?

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

I think Mephisto would get along really well with someone like Zatanna and if you fall into that category, that means he likes you too. He thinks you’re an interesting person and someone to keep an eye on.

Thinks your magic is very intriguing. He knows different forms of magic require different recitations but you’re the first person he’s come across that says words backwards to make things happen.

Loves that you use your magic for fun, as well as in battle. He believes in having fun and being slightly irresponsible with immense powers so that’s right up his alley.

He’ll probably join you in your street magic shows if you don’t mind the company. He’s got a great stage presence so he’ll help where he can to light up any performance you put on.

I feel like he does have moments where he’s very protective over you. Since you’re so kind-hearted, he worries that people will take advantage of you. At least with him around, he knows you’ll have someone to back you up if needed.

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

Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

ko-fi.com/justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms

Important Note: Please only donate if you are financially able to. If you are currently in a position where you can't donate, a like, comment, or reblog will mean just as much.

[m00nt4r0t]

✮ who wants to contact you & why? ✮

pile one, two, or three?

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ pile one

“who wants to contact pile one?” okayyy so for pile one, we have the fool in reverse, the magician and the devil reversed. so this person could definitely have aries and/or capricorn placements in their chart, but heavy on the aries. this could be someone you ended things with because they were trying to manipulate you and/or the energy around you, possibly by doing spells or just wishing for things to not go in your favor. this is someone who sees themselves as extremely powerful and in charge, and these types of people usually don’t appreciate when people tell them what to do or question them. i feel like you and this person had a bad start, like maybe they were having a bad day when you first met which could’ve given you the wrong (or maybe an accurate) first impression of them. this person could be very reckless and they like to take risks. they could get high off adrenaline and do things like street racing, fighting, parkour (??) and other things that trigger their adrenaline to pump. i feel as though this person may have explored their shadow side and embraced it in a way that they’re okay with being impulsive. they could also own an orange cat. “why does this person want to contact pile one?” now we have the three of swords, the moon and ten of cups reversed. you could’ve walked away from this person (or job) when they thought you’d never leave and it left them feeling hurt and heartbroken. you may have spoke your truth and instead of self-reflecting, this person took it as defamation of their character and felt as though you were just trying to hurt their feelings or make them insecure. however, i do feel like this person wishes to come in and make things right with you, but i just don’t think they’re meant to be in your life currently. even if they tried, it’d mess up what is aligned for you and possibly even slow down your destiny??? that’s a big one lol. i feel like there’s still some things you don’t know about that they plan to keep hidden, so it’s best if you don’t let this person back in without some clarity, at least.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ pile two

“who wants to contact pile two?” for you, pile two, i pulled the two of swords reversed, seven of swords reversed, and then the ace of pentacles upright. well…. this person definitely lied to you, confused you, possibly made you an option in their life, and attempted to spark some insecurity within you. this person could be trying to manifest you back in their life because they felt more abundant when they were with you. this could be a friend or a lover, possibly even a family member. but, since we have the number 2 and 7, i’m leaning more towards a commitment of just two people. i feel as though you exposed this persons true intentions, which caused them to really regret what they did to you. they could’ve given you a new financial opportunity, or you could work with this person. “why does this person want to contact pile two?” considering that i pulled the hanged man reversed, eight of pentacles reversed and then the four of swords…. this person wants to contact you because they know that when they’re in your energy, they will move forward. to them you are very wise and knowledgeable, and you get stuff done. they feel like they’ll get farther in life by riding your wave and sticking by your side. this is why they wanted to make you insecure… because they’re insecure!!! your progress intimidates them and makes them feel like they’re not doing enough, so instead of doing more, they wanted to make you do less in order to bring you to their level. i wouldn’t suggest letting this person in again, but if you feel as though you can help them make it on their own, then do what you want!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ pile three

“who wants to contact pile three?” your cards are page of cups, the fool reversed and ten of wands reversed. so there’s someone who wants to make a small offer to you, pile three. this could be in regards to love, or a creative offer… but this person is holding back from doing this because they feel like you’re not interested, or that you won’t put any effort into it. they’re very curious about you but they feel like offering this to you would be a huge risk, and they may not be willing to take it. if this has something to do with a collaboration, then they may see you as someone intermediate and that they’d have to put in most of the work, for some reason. if they’re not willing to put in the work then do they really wanna give you an offer? “why does this person want to contact pile three?” while asking this, i pulled the devil, the moon and the five of swords reversed. this person wants to contact you because they’re obsessed with you and they’re trying to hide it. they’re obsessed with your creativity and your inner world. this is someone who you no longer speak to, but they wish to make amends in order to work with you or just be in your energy again. this person has some deep attachment towards you, though. this could have something to do with music, or you just hypnotize them in some way. i don’t feel as though this person has negative intentions towards you, there’s just a lot they’re keeping hidden (which could be the attachment and obsession they have with you.)

thank you for reading and interacting! <3

masterlist ⭑ personal readings ⭑ patreon

[elli3luvs]

I had this random fic idea where reader and ellie go to a spiritual/metaphysical shop. ellie finds it so cute how the reader is so excited about buying books and crystals. the crystal reader really wants is a little pricey so she decides not to buy it but ellie goes back for it 🫶😭 (sorry for this horrible explanation but if ur looking for ideas i thought this was a cute one)

a/n: thank you for requesting!! i did this in headcanons i hope that's okay <333 i absolutely love going into the crystal shop that's near me even though i have no clue what anything really is haha so this was fun to write!

ellie would have zero clue what you were talking about when you mentioned a "crystal shop"

she was like ???

but anything for you! so she loaded you up in her car, buckled you in, turned on the loudest music ever, and drove through the city to get you to where you wanted

she really enjoyed the vibe of the store, the plants and incense burning was 100% up her alley

ellie took a couple interior design notes as she walked around

you were bouncing off the walls excitedly touching the crystals that were out and then pointing at the ones that were on display

"this is rose quartz, it's the crystal for love!"

ellie would furrow her brows and say, "you don't need that, though. im right here."

like!!

you just roll your eyes, "but it's pink?"

ellie just crosses her arms knowing she can't win if its pink

you looked around some more but a stone caught your eye

it was behind a glass display so it was more expensive

it was a hunk of lapis lazuli and it was gorgeous, the light caught it perfectly showing how it sparkled

you were staring at it for a full minute before you turned to get ellie's attention (who was looking through the sapphic love spell book btw)

"ellie look at pretty that is."

she is also intrigued by it, "woah... how much is it? that would look good on our mantel."

you tried not to get giddy at how domestic that sounded while you looked for the price tag behind the glass

when your eyes met the number your blood went cold

"holy hell, it's 2,500."

the two of you gawked for a bit at the absurd price until you decided to take your smaller stones to the register

bye bye to the stunning lapis lazuli... until you met in a different life

well that's what you thought

until you came home a week later to the exact crystal sitting on your mantel with a proud ellie staring at it, hands on her hips

"whaddya think?!" she exclaims, eyes twinkling

you punch her shoulder but it wasn't even hard enough to make her budge, "i think you are insane!! that was a horrible financial choice."

she laughs, "money is fleeting but a huge chunk of.... lapel lachuli? now that... that is forever."

ellie didn't even know the name of the crystal but all she knew was you looked at it a little too much

that's all she needed to know

[caramelstarlight]

If you don’t mind, can I become a mutual requester? I love how fast you get my prayers, but take your time please :> , Tighari x reader that uses a claymore (hydro). Reader is really sweet and not the type to use a claymore [kinda like Noelle] and not afraid to protect others even in public. Like if someone is bothering Collei, reader just calmly walks over, smiling sweetly, and summons their claymore, “Leave Collei alone or are we gonna have problems?”

You can go with anything you want but, King’s Squire, Prototype Crescent, and Slingshot R5 are really good for Tighnari. [I promise, I’m not trying to make it sound like your build is not good but it’s hard to find Tighnari mains these days and as a Nari main, I want you to have the best. Also I happy to find someone that loves Tighnari as much as me.]

Yeah ofc you can! ✅/⭐️. :D <33

I’m seeing how fun Tumblr can be actually. Hehe.

(Thanks for the tips! I was going to make him use Stringless! Might consider those other options. If you want you can come help me get the materials to craft them?)

Makes me think of Paladins… such as Financier cookie and Kougihn Amaine (didn’t spell right prob AKA Princess Peach cookie)

Willing to help!

Tighnari x Reader | Hydro Claymore | Fluff

More under cut <3

Y/N / Reader was seen as a motherly figure to almost everyone in Gandharva Ville. Most importantly they were always patient and helpful. Ready to be supportive to anyone she considers as friends or family.

Many people would come to them for their guidance and advice. Always steering them into the right direction. Despite their caring and generous personality, they aren’t scared to wield their vision and claymore to protect.

Even if they doesn’t know them. Y/N would always come to their aid no matter what. Earning them a n/n (nickname) Angel. Always looking at the bright side and helping others while being protective and positive.

This time you had to deal with a slight threat to the peace you had worked diligently to maintain. Someone’s causing a disruption in the peaceful Gandharva Ville.

Seeing a merchant was talking horrid things collei, You calmed down going towards the two. “We don’t have any issues do we? If you do, tell them to me. Leave collei alone or we will have problems.” You said with a smile. You’re voiced laced with anger as you looked at them. Holding your claymore in your free hand as collei grabbed the other. Trying to not let their words keep her down and hugged you.

Seeing they had no response you asked them again. “Leave collei alone or do we have problems?” This time with more anger behind the gentle facade. “I suggest you get going before me or Tighnari deal with you personally.” Slightly threatening the merchant as they started to head towards the city.

After they left and had their back turned against you. Your attention went to collei who was sobbing into your side. Kneeling down to give her a hug and comforting the girl.

“Collei are you alright? They were mean but I took care of them. Don’t listen to the insults they spat out.” You stated as you touched her hair. “Shh~ It’s okay I’m here.” You told her as she kept crying. “Do you want me to bring you back home Collei?” You questioned the teenager as she nodded. You picked her up and onto your shoulders. Holding her hands as she stayed silent.

Tighnari watched from afar. Keeping a note to himself to comfort collei later on when he can. He was slightly admiring you and thanking you silently as you drove them off. He was going to step in but you did first.

He watched you bring collei to where she resided before going back to his house. Stepping inside and going towards his desk. Working on his research.

A few minutes later Tighnari came inside with a worried expression and drooped ears. “Collei are you alright? I heard what happened.” He said as he sat on the bed next to the both of you. She nodded silently as she was still sad about what she heard.

You both hugged her as time went by. Making sure to calm her down. Looking at her as she held your and Tighnaris hands. You looked up towards Tighnari. Giving him a soft smile as he gave you one back. Both of your attentions going back towards collei.

After she confirmed she was okay and fine you both left within 30 minutes. Going back to Tighnaris house. “Narii I’m still worried about collei.” You’d tell the fennec fox hybrid. He had the same face as you. Feeling guilt as he couldn’t prevent it. “Me too. But she’ll be okay. My lotus we can go check on her tomorrow. I’ll be sure to not give her work so she can relax.”

“I hope so. Maybe we should take her out on a break and get her a few things.” You would suggest as he brought you close. Hugging you from behind on the bed. His tail lazily moved up towards his knee and gently placed onto yours slightly. You would turn around as his tail removed itself from your body, snuggling into his chest with your head near his neck.

“How can you be so adorable and precious at times?” He’d question you as you removed your face from his neck. “I don’t know. How can you be so handsome?” You’d tell him back playfully. He gave you a quick peck as his tail wagged. Trying to tickle your side. “H-hey!” You would tell him trying to not burst into laughter as you felt his tail brushing against you.

“Colleis like a daughter to us. I just wished we could’ve prevented it.” He’d state as his tail tickled you. Enjoying your laughter as it was music to his ears. You laughed as you tried to get words out. “M- me too! St-stop tickling me.” You’d say trying to get him to stop. He stoped tickling you as you felt more happy. Knowing it did the trick, he smiled as he gave you another peck.

[batsplat]

reading your fabio/casey post, im curious: how much sympathy do you give to riders who have chosen money over success? fabio could've gone elsewhere but he chose The Bag and while i feel for him given how bad the bike is (and that there's only two bikes, etc) he did tie himself to the project for years to come

(x) hm interesting one. there's a few different things here

first off, in general I have an extreme lack of sympathy for athletes who choose wealth over success. I understand it's an inescapable part of how sports works, but that doesn't mean I have to like it - these are sums of money that I just feel are fundamentally immoral. nobody should be paid as much as some of these athletes are. now, obviously not all riders in motogp are all that well paid, I get that they don't have a lot of career security and I also get that this is a reason why everyone's jumping at those factory seats. for instance, I do have some sympathy for jorge martin's choice to switch to aprilia, even though he too is of course choosing a less competitive bike. from the estimates of these guys' salaries to us available and considering expenses, that man is not being paid in a manner commensurate to his abilities or success. (though if the adage of 'ducati pays shit salaries but great bonuses' holds true, I imagine he too is very much fine.) still, by the time you get to the numbers fabio was getting chucked at him, fundamentally I... do not care anymore. like that's dumb amounts of money, I don't care how many yachts you can buy. it's disgusting

but, well. it's also what these big money offers mean, right. it's a way for manufacturers to show riders how much they're wanted - and while I also don't like... love that the way to do this involves this many millions, that's how this process works. the reason why casey ended up switching from ducati to honda wasn't a competitive calculation where he saw that ducati was trending downwards and decided to jump ship. it's because he went to ducati and told them to make him a suitable offer, and they didn't do so. from his autobiography:

After the way they'd behaved I had pretty much decided that I was through with Ducati and even though they put a new contract in front of me, for 2011 and 2012, it was going to take a much grander gesture to make me stay. I told them I wanted them to show me what I meant to them. 'What do you mean?' they said. 'That's up to you,' I told them. I gave them months to do it and nothing happened. In the end I had to spell it out. I said, 'Rip up my current contract and show me what I am worth to you.' They wouldn't do it, and that told me all I needed to know. Up until then there was a chance that I'd stay but that effectively made my decision easy.

now, listen, casey's situation was very much its own thing, his bridges with ducati were already burnt and it was always highly unlikely he'd stay. but as he puts it, he was willing to give ducati a chance - if they put enough money on the table to show him they care. this is obviously not a performance-based decision. if casey stays with ducati, he does not win a second championship - it's as simple as that. riders want to feel wanted, they want to feel valued... and the money symbolises that to them, a commitment of faith on part of the manufacturer to the rider. martin's choice wasn't primarily financially incentivised, right (and tbh, if ducati weren't willing to put a large sum of money on the table for him, factory seat or not, they're idiots) - it was that he wanted to feel wanted. it's emotional but it's also practical in that you want to know your manufacturer will rally around you and do whatever it takes to make you succeed. it helps if you know they have a big stake in your success... money plays a role in so many of these decisions - and while I really don't like it, it's also tough to penalise fabio specifically too harshly for it

all that being said, if it really were just about any of the stuff I just listed, I would have less than zero time for the choice. I'm an old fashioned kind of bloke... for me sports is about one thing, and that's winning. but the real problem fabio faced was a lack of great options that could help him achieve said winning. let's quickly run through them:

yamaha: currently laughably uncompetitive. this season has been disappointing from them, even by the standards of their modest pre-season expectations... you would have hoped they'd be a little closer by this stage in the year. but, well, by the start of the year it was clear this would be a long-term project. they have made personnel changes in line with fabio's demands, have made shown themselves willing to follow his development direction and commit fully to him on every level as their star rider. he knows the project, he knows that the money is there - and unlike the two non-ducati european manufacturers, yamaha has a proven track record of winning championships

aprilia: the second/third best manufacturer at the moment, but far off the first. sometimes have the pace to challenge for victory, frequently don't. part of that will be down to the inconsistent riders and not just the inconsistent bikes, but it also doesn't help that it's also the number one technical problem team. aprilia had some strong early season pace around the time fabio was making his choice (remember, vinales really should have been leading the championship coming out of cota - though the fact that he wasn't does of course also tell you what you need to know about aprilia)... but at this stage it seems a little unlikely they'll have a bike in championship contention next season. the manufacturer with the least spending power, still doesn't have a title sponsor

ktm: seemingly full. now, obviously, whenever ktm says they want to stick with their current riders, you can reasonably assume they will change their minds. and they did change their minds, which is how we now have a completely new tech3 line up for next season. but realistically, given pedro's golden boy status and binder's contract spanning roughly until the next ice age, that was the best fabio could have hoped for. yes, there were murmurings both jorge and marc might be an option for the factory team - but I never took those all too seriously, and both riders have a more substantial history with ktm/red bull than fabio does. in any case, ktm will be built around pedro. I suppose you can say fabio should back himself to beat pedro, but that's the kind of call you can make if you think you'll be fighting for championships the moment you join the manufacturer. if ktm isn't there yet next year (which is likely), then what fabio would have had to do is attempt to assert himself against the next great thing, already more established than him within the manufacturer, from a satellite bike, with zero guarantee that ktm will actually be in championship contention any time soon. eh

ducati: well, look, a factory seat was never on the cards for him anyway. you'd have to think he could have gotten a satellite seat of some type, if he really had been willing to take whatever was on the table. ducati has generally liked collecting all the strongest riders, and you'd hope would've been up for it... who knows what spec he would have been able to acquire. if he's on a year old bike, then winning a title would always be a tall order. even if he's on the newest spec... the template here of course is marc, but it felt from the start that this gresini gig was supposed to be a stopgap. fabio is not at the stage of his career where he should be looking for stopgaps, and he still wouldn't have an obvious place to go for 2026. whichever way ducati ended up arranging their riders, there would have been no short to medium term route into the factory team for fabio

honda: lol

at a certain point, it does make sense to go with the manufacturer that is willing to back you as its star. now, look, maybe jorge martin wins the championship next year, in which case fabio's decision will obviously have aged poorly. but you'd have to say that's unlikely... fabio's bet here basically has to be that switching to aprilia might have brought him race wins next year, but sticking with yamaha might bring him more titles eventually. at this stage, neither of his two most plausible options look like championship contenders until 2027. yamaha, however, have a lot of money at their disposal - which they proved by signing him. if he switches now and the aprilia dream doesn't come off, it leaves him in a weaker position for 2027 than the path he's currently on. none of these options are great exactly... but there is a logic to the reasoning here. if there were an equivalent to honda 2011 for fabio to jump ship to, obviously he'd be an idiot not to accept. there just isn't, though, is there? he tied himself to the project for two years, which puts him in sync with basically the entire grid. it lets everyone completely reset for 2027... until then, you'd have to say it's pretty unlikely that anyone who isn't on a ducati will be winning any titles - and if they do, my money would still be on ktm. maybe you think fabio should back himself and take the risk, which is an understandable position. but equally, I do get how sticking with the devil you know and will go to war for you might make sense in the medium to long term. if it really was just the money, I have zero respect for that. but I don't think it was, so I'll spare him a little sympathy. for his troubles

[blackjackkent]

Unlike Hector, I don't imagine Rakha makes a deliberate effort to actively engage further with Naaber. However - I also don't imagine that stops him. :P

Screenshots taken in Carm's Garms notwithstanding, I picture the ensuing series of conversations to take place while Rakha and co. walk down the street in Wyrm's Crossing, with Naaber trotting double-time to keep up with Rakha's longer strides, keeping up a running commentary all the way to Danthelon's. (In-game it's right across the street, but go with me on this.)

Rakha... surprisingly, isn't entirely annoyed. Baffled, yes, but we already established that she is very struck by people being actively excited about her presence, and Naaber is nothing if not excited. She doesn't really look at him and answers in her usual clipped manner - but she doesn't push him away or attack, and given this is Rakha, that speaks volumes.

The whole rest of the party trails along behind and gets increasingly irritated, with the exception (and I cannot emphasize this enough) of Jaheira, who thinks this is the funniest thing that has happened to her at least since Minsc disappeared.

Here we go:

"Roar! Roar! ROOOOOOOAR! Are you scared? Did you wet your pants? Did you? Did you?"

"Not even slightly."

"Appreciate the honesty. *Sigh* Oh well! Back to the Naabing board!"

-----

"Happy birthday to youuuuu! Happy birthday to youuuuuu! Happy biiiiiirthday dear.......?"

"I was sculpted from a slice of Bhaal's own dead flesh. I have no birthday."

"It's not your birthday? Shoot. What did you think anyway? Could I be a good bard?!"

"All the bards I've met play an instrument."

"Oh. I don't have one of those. Balls. Back to the Naabing board then!"

(A/N: Some odd and uncertain generous instinct buried deep in Rakha's rotted psyche considers giving him Alfira's lute. And for some reason, she has a strange and almost panicky response to the thought and keeps it to herself.)

-----

"Bless us with your gentle - no, holy - spirit - no, soul - no, spirit... your powers... your divine powers... bother."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm praying! Is that not how it goes?"

"What god are you praying to?"

"There's more than one? Shit."

-----

"*Sniff. Sniff.*"

Sniff him back.

"Ah ha! You fell for it! I'm pretending to be a dog. Everyone likes dogs!"

"Carry on then."

"*Bark! Bark!*"

-----

"Behold, mundane meddler! You step in the domain of a master speller. For I am to be a most mighty WIZARD!"

"Show me what you can do."

"Wizard. W-I-Z-A-R-D. Wizard!"

"That's spelling. Wizards cast spells."

"Ooooooooooh! Whooooopsie!"

(A/N: The line in-game is "That's spelling. Wizards cast spells. Idiot." But once again, I don't actually think Rakha is upset here, just thoroughly bewildered.)

-----

"Know any fiendish philanthropists? Fickle fae financiers? Eldritch employers? I want to make a pact!"

Given Wyll's situation, Rakha doesn't find this one particularly funny. "Here's a pact for you. Give up."

"That's not a pact. That's just an order... Oh-ho! Very good! You nearly had me there!"

-----

"Ommmmmmmm. Ammmmmmmmm. Ummmmmmmm."

Back quietly away.

"Oh hi! I didn't see you there! I was in deep meditation, see. Isn't peace and quiet just the best? I've decided to be a monk! I'm going to be the best monk there ever was!"

"I doubt you'll find peace. But the rest of us might. If we're lucky."

"Haha! You're funny! And mean."

-----

"BOO! Bet you didn't even see me coming. I'm a shadow. A master of sneakery. A rogue!"

"No, you're not. I see you. You're right there."

"Oh, thank goodness. I was worried I was getting too good at it and nobody would ever see me again! Hello! Hi!"

-----

"If not a rogue, then a ranger. I'm great at chasing things down."

"You're great at nothing. In fact, you're the worst person I've ever met."

"Oh pish. I'm great at being your friend! And that's all that matters. Friendship! Yay!"

(A/N: I know I'm reading way too much into this, but Rakha doesn't even feel super natural at calling her closest companions 'friends'. This is an extremely jarring comment for her to hear and gives her a strange muddled feeling.)

-----

"Perhaps the answer was deep within me all along... an ancient spark of arcana... Yes, I was born to be a sorcerer! I can feel it!"

[WILD MAGIC] "Does your magic come from the thrumming scream of chaos itself?"

"Let me focus. I can feel the power deep within me... it's coming up! It's coming up! *Burp.* Oops. Just indigestion. Haha."

-----

At this point, presumably, Naaber darts a few steps forward so he can drop to his knees in front of her.

"My liege. I swear to you an undying oath of absolute devotion. I am but your humble paladin."

"I don't accept."

"Really? But I'm ready to do ANYTHING!"

"Please just go away."

"But you're the one who keeps talking to me! I - I don't want to - all right. An oath's an oath I suppose."

-----

"These roles sure are restrictive, aren't they? Maybe the adventuring life's just not for me."

"I really like talking to you. There's not a lot of people that want to talk to me so I bought you a present. Here!"

"Now, what are we going to talk about if not about the adventuring life?"

"Wait. Wait. What if I mix the classes-- Oh, Naaber, you GENIUS!"

-----

Look, okay, I know I'm reading too much into this. I KNOW I'm reading too much into this. But...

No one has ever gotten Rakha a present before.

She stands there a long time and just stares at the amulet as the boy darts off into the crowd.

"Praise be," Minthara says sardonically. "The ordeal is over."

"Chk. He will not last a week on the road," Lae'zel scoffs.

"Admirable patience, cub," Jaheira puts in with a soft snort.

Wyll looks at Rakha. "Seems like you made a new friend," he says with a slight smile, the first she's seen from him since the South Span checkpoint.

Rakha doesn't say anything, just turns the amulet over in her hands as if memorizing every side of it. Then she puts it into her pocket and wordlessly trudges into Danthelon's Dancing Axe.

[alexiswritingstuff]

A Man And His Personal Guard. 2/2

Pairing: Gustavo Fring x Male reader.

Summary: After finally arriving at the house, both you and Gustavo continue to try and get used to each other as the night progresses. And all is well until you make another one of your comments, this time causing Mr. Fring to try block you out, thinking that you couldn’t possibly mean anything that you say.

Until he gets hurt.

Warnings! mentions of an injury and blood.

Also be aware that there might be spelling mistakes and such.

A/N: omg I really such a writing summaries. Anyway, I finally got the time to finalises the part, and here it is! My first time writing a Male reader. 

I hope I made good references to the readers gender enough in this, and actually if anyone has any tips on how to do it better please let me know. I don’t know why it seems so difficult to me.

Enjoy reading! 

More Gustavo fics.

@marksassybanana​

previous part.

There has been many times in your life where it was threatened.

You had been through gun fights and fist fights, you have followed, sneaked up on, a multitude of dangerous people, and watched horrendous things play out in front of your eyes.

But somehow as you walked through the dimly lit rooms of none other than Gustavo Frings own home, with him about two steps in front of you at all times, it was the most tense you had ever felt.

Every movement your body made felt ridged as if you had to force yourself to do it. Your head spun in a way that closely resembled an owl to take in the new surroundings, though you were quick to face Mr. Fring when he stopped walking. 

It was then that you fully managed to process what you were seeing. 

“Whoa.”

You were stood in one of the doorways, practically gapping at the living room where everything looked like it had been neatly placed and organised. 

The look of the house from the outside was unknown to you, but with a singular glance at amount of space, and the interior, it was easy to tell that the owner was definitely not having financial problems.

Then again, it is owned by Gustavo Fring. What else did you expect?

There was some classical piece quietly humming through the room. Where it was coming from you couldn’t tell, but the attempt to find it fell short of when a voice broke through the song, “This is where, I believe, you will be spending most of your time.”

Your free hand found sanctuary underneath the material of the apron still worn, the warmness of your skin continuing to emanate within the pocket of your trousers. Your head nodded in acknowledgement. “I don’t think I will be complaining.”

“This place is... really nice.”

Mr. Fring mimicked your gesture, “Thank you,” A short smile then pressed at his lips as though it was filled with a sense of pride, “I picked out everything myself.” And it was.

The previous feeling that could even be described as fear was fading. Making way for something new that had you eager to continue the conversation, and this time not just because you needed to break the silence.

“Well, you have a good eye.” you expressed while your gaze continued it’s journey throughout the room. “And apparently a good taste too.”

To your right, there were about two rows of kitchen islands. The closest one was mostly empty, only a few items of decor placed along the surface, while the other looked more like it was owned by a chef. 

And behind that, between fuller counters, was the oven. A few pots already sat on the stove waiting to be heated.

The whole journey of being told that you would be going to this house, and then actually doing it, had your mind in such a frenzy that the thought of what the house itself would be like hadn’t even crossed your brain.

“Huh,” you blurted out after a moment, eyes still scanning over the different cooking equipment placed delicately within the cupboards and on the counter tops. “Who knew the owner of a restaurant would be a cook himself.”

It took a moment for there to be any response or reaction as the music began to seep back through your ears. And then you heard a laugh. 

Well, it was more of a huff of air, but it had your eyebrows raising nonetheless.

Mr. Frings eyes were already on yours by the time you looked in his direction. That smile from earlier was subtly curled on his lips, his gaze narrow, though not in suspicion.

“You already knew.”

Maybe it was the drastic difference of seriousness you had compared to him, or the opposite personalities clashing, that had Gustavo uncertain of your skill set. I mean, practically since you first started he had been testing your senses. Even if he got given a full reference of your abilities.

However, now, it seemed like he was finally starting to believe them. “How?”

There was almost a feeling of amusement residing in your chest upon looking at his expression. Mild wonder over a deduction he could’ve easily concluded himself.

You lightly shrugged your shoulders despite how smart you wanted to look in that moment and let your eyes flow back to set up, adjusting your grip on the clothes you still so desperately wanted to change into, “Well, I doubt a person would own a kitchen like that if they could only make a bowl of cereal.”

The comment had Mr. Fring doing the same huffed laugh as before and it had a grin begging to take over your face. Your posture even straightened, a sense of pride of your own flooding your system though you soon shook your head. “Actually, uh… It was earlier. Back at the restaurant.”

You could feel his sharp eyes on you once again. His stance was more relaxed, his hands now held in front of his body instead of behind. “The only times you left your office was to check around the building… and also to correct the people in charge of cooking the food.”

“The way you told them, the solutions you gave, anything, showed some form of culinary experience that wasn’t just from getting the brief for a job or lessons from school.” You met his gaze, an urge to take in a deep breath filling your lungs within an instant. “It’s from a lot of practice.”

The expression on Gustavo’s face remained regardless of how long you had spoken for. He really had taken you for granted.

“Very good.” he insisted through a much lighter voice and it had you just blinking for a moment. 

This entire day he had this look across his features. It was one that would dissipate whenever talking to customers, like it usually did, but the second they were gone, it resided. And the way he acted afterwards further emphasised it.

But now here he was, his gaze light and his lips curling. It had yourself mimic the same expression as you lightly bowed your head at his compliment. “You know, your face looks better like that. More handsome.”

As if someone just flicked some form of switch, and by the time you had blinked, that stoic expression he was known for in the business took over his features. It was almost startling, especially the way the muscles beneath his brows tensed. “Why do you have to say things like that?”

You blinked at him for a moment, struggling to adjust to the change of tone. “Like what?” Your eyebrows even furrowed, though you knew exactly what he meant.

“Like… that. Nonsense.”

“You think I’m lying?”

Gustavo’s body was now faced towards yours, the lines decorating his skin setting deeper. “What I think is that you need to understand the words that come out of your mouth.”

“But I do?” you pointed out, your arms crossing over your chest in a way that had the man in front of you almost scoffing.

“Sir,” Your head tilted lightly, eyebrows still furrowed in both disbelief and confusion, “Everything that I do has to have been done with a purpose, I mean-- I have to be thoughtful, in more way than one, about the way I do things so that no one and nothing gets comprised.”

“Why would the way I speak be any different?”

The music that had been long forgotten reached your ears once again as a silence layered between the walls. The two of you were stood facing each other, eyes glued on the opposite face as if trying to decipher a code.

And then Mr. Fring shook his head, breaking the eye contact by turning to the side as he began to move towards the kitchen previously being talked about. You couldn’t understand what was going on despite the fact that you could do so easily at any other moment. It was almost frustrating. 

If you were making him uncomfortable he would have shut you up ages ago, the same with if it made him angry, or upset.

So what the hell was it?

“Mr. Fring--”

“The bathroom is down the hall.”

Your foot stilled before it had properly lifted off of the ground. “What?”

“The bathroom.” He repeated, stopping himself in front of the fridge that was quite tall in comparison to his height. “You’ve been carrying around that set of clothes since you left restaurant, so, Mr. L/n…”

He gripped the handle, turning his head in you direction to meet your stunned gaze with a certain blankness to his expression. “If you would like to get changed, it is back down the hall we came through previously.”

“Just take a left instead of a right this time.”

And that was it. His attention went right back to the fridge as he now opened it, disappearing behind the silver door.

The pile of clothes was held between both of your hands. You were stood there like an innocent little animal, frozen in place, and only blinking like every five seconds as if something would happen if you made the wrong move.

“All right,” you began after a moment, clearing your throat before forcing yourself to start moving towards the hallway you first walked through, “Thank you, Sir.”

~

It was unclear how long you had been in the bathroom by the time you had actually began to rid yourself of the LPH uniform.

You had paced, practically recreated those angsty scenes in movies where they just stare at themselves in a mirror, all the while trying to adjust to the bright light above that bounced off of every surface.

These moments never usually bothered you, but that was because they never happened. Whenever someone made it clear that they weren’t keen on the way you acted, you backed off immediately and switched the approach had towards that person.

You had no idea what was going on with Mr. Fring and the worst thing was that you couldn’t just ask.

Asking him could elevate the situation, make it worse. That could then lead to losing a job and being on the bad side of Gustavo Fring. Something no one wants.

By now a headache was slowly forming from the furrow in your brow. Your fingers grasped the material of the trousers and, a little dramatically, yanked up the pant leg until it consumed your skin.

What the hell were you going to do?

It was replaying in your head. The way his face changed, how fast it switched, and his tone.

No. It wasn’t discomfort. Or anger. Like his question earlier, it was disbelief. 

But whether it was disbelief over the words being directed at him, or your audacity to say such things in the first place, was still amidst the unknown.

The tips of your fingers slightly stung due to your previous harshness, but nevertheless your trousers were on and zipped up.

A sigh passed through your lips as you grabbed the next item clothing. A plain black hoodie. You made sure that it was upside down, turning it the proper way so that you would get opening instead of a face full of fabric.

You lifted it over your head, the exhaustion from the previous day clear in the way that your muscles moved and tensed--

There was a muffled clatter from somewhere in the house.

However, that noise alone wasn’t the thing that set off your internal alert system. It was what came afterwards. A hiss.

“Mr. Fring?”

The hoodie was only half on your body in a way that meant your face was being engulfed by fabric. You couldn’t see. And trying to locate something during a moment of stress wasn’t exactly easy to do regardless of how much you trained.

So, within the next few seconds you found yourself stumbling through the bathroom, one hand held out to make sure that you wouldn’t end up with a comically large bump somewhere, while the other desperately clawed at your hoodie to bring it lower.

“Mr. Fring?” Your bare torso was layered with a coolness and when you managed to get into the hallway, and without really thinking about it, you began to jog, managing push your head far enough that it was brought to the face hole of the hoodie. 

“Sir? Is everything all right?”

By the time you ended up in the doorway to the living room your head was finally through the neck hole. Your eyes flickered around in a panic, your hands pulling the fabric down until your torso was completely covered.

There, stood in front of the farthest kitchen aisle, was Mr. Fring. He had taken a step back from what you could now see was a chopping board. 

Your eyebrows furrowed the moment you saw that his hand was clutched on the opposite wrist, though he was merely blinking at you.

You immediately beckoned forward, the situation piecing together, and it wasn’t until you were stood beside your boss that you could see what had properly happened. “Oh, shit.”

There was a diagonal slash across the pad of one of his fingers. The dark red substance wasn’t exactly oozing out, but it was creating a trail that wrapped around the digit before dropping on the floor below despite Mr. Fring trying to catch it.

“It’s not severe, Y/n, no… need to worry.” he had tried to insist, clearly unsure of how it happened himself, but you found yourself scanning through the kitchen anyway for some paper towels. At least something.

“Ah.” You moved behind Mr. Fring, carefully avoiding the knife as the only thing on your feet were socks. 

After pulling at the kitchen roll, about three pieces disconnected from the rest and you reprised your previous position, folding the paper towels until it had enough layers.

You gently held onto his wrist, trying ignore the way he pulled his none injured hand away when there was mildly contact, and placed the centre of the kitchen roll on the wound. Mr. Fring sucked in a breath.

“Okay, just hold that there for me.” you told him and he complied after a moment, taking over the role of holding the paper that was slowly turning red while you took a step back to remove the knife from the floor so that no one would end up stepping on it.

“I imagine this has happened before?” You placed the knife beside the chopping board, your eyes scanning over a half cut vegetable that sat on top, a singular blood droplet absorbing into it.

“I don’t tend to make mistakes like this.”

The first thing you noticed when your eyes went back to Mr. Fring was the expression on his face. His brows were creased, the lines on either side of his mouth deeper than they ever have been. He was staring down at the injury with resentment.

“I don’t think anyone does.”

You took the wounded hand in yours again which in turn caused Gustavo to immediately turn his head your direction.

Peeling back the soaked towel was mildly jarring to watch, and do, but you moved the hand so that it was in a direct beam of light. An attempt to gage how severe the injury was.

When the blood began to pool around the skin again, you returned the paper towel, smoothing it over as lightly as you could before bringing his other hand back to continue the pressure.

“Alright, well, good news.” you began as you leaned back, checking your own hands to see if the blood got onto your skin, “Based off of where you cut it, you will not be needing to see a doctor.”

“At least you weren’t cutting the meat yet.” you added on in an attempt to lighten the mood. But Gustavo only hummed in response. He was just looking at you as if analysing every aspect of your face.

You cleared your throat, averting your gaze from his as you subconsciously rubbed the tips of your fingers together. “You, uh-- You should move to the other sink.” Your back faced him when you walked round the edge of the kitchen aisle. 

“And why is that?” Mr. Fring questioned, finally finding his voice that held a thicker accent due to his confusion.

“Less... chance of blood stains, stops the possibility of contamination… nicer soap.” you listed off, not even bothering to turn back round as heat rose within your body.

“Just… keep pressure on your finger, I’m going to get some supplies.” You waved a hand in his direction, getting closer to the hallway while hearing Mr. Fring move to the other sink like you asked. “If it is plasters you are looking for, they will be in the cabinet above the--”

“I know.”

~

The next time you appeared in the living room a small box was held in your hands. The plasters within were definitely a lot bigger than the wound itself, so when you got closer to the kitchen your eyes immediately looked for a pair of scissors.

“I believe the bleeding has stopped now.” Mr. Fring informed as you rounded the first kitchen aisle, and that in response halted your previous mission.

The feeling of wanting to get something under control, wanting nothing more than a situation to be over and done with, made it easy to start rushing to the finish line. 

But like a lot of other things, there were specific steps to take. And ones you couldn’t miss especially if someone was injured.

A deep breath filtered in and out of your lungs as you swivelled in Mr. Frings direction and took back your place by his side after placing down the box on the counter.

You reached for the blue tap, the metal freezing beneath your finger tips, and twisted until water spilled into the sink bowl below. You barely escaped having a drenched sleeve when you pulled back.

“This might hurt.” Without really thinking, you found yourself placing a hand on the warm wrist of Gustavo’s. You could feel the way the limb tensed and the hesitance that took a moment to defeat when you began directing it towards the stream of water.

“I know… how to use a tap, Y/n.” Mr. Fring pointed out, his arm slightly jolting when the running tap met the injury, but he didn’t pull away.

“Wash it out.” was all you said, because for one you needed to move, and two it seemed that Mr. Fring was a guy that liked having control of situations. Which was probably why the Lalo thing is digging into his mind.

I mean, you were the kind of guy to feel at ease when in control of things so it was easy to understand where he was coming from... But that was usually because if you weren’t in control of your situations a lot of stuff was about to go wrong.

You swiped a pair of scissors from where they usually sat in the kitchen and set them down, switching to holding the box back in your hands. You flicked open the smallest flap and pulled out one of the sterile adhesives that, now being in front of your eyes, confirmed your suspicion.

After placing the box back down the scissors were in your grasp once again, and you readied them once the adhesive was in the correct positioning between your fingers.

“What are you doing?” You heard to your left, the water thumping louder into the sink when he targeted another part of the wound, and after the slightest glance in his direction, you began cutting. “Dry your finger.”

Soon enough, the tap had been turned off. And after a little more of what felt like arts and crafts, you now had a strip of the sterile adhesive. 

There may had been a little more of the pad than the sticky part, but there was enough to make it do its job.

The music flooded back to their ears when Gustavo was now the one to move back to your side, lightly dabbing the towel around his wound that had in fact stopped bleeding.

You could hear your heart thumping in your ears, almost in time with the song, as you began to peel back the paper covering on the plaster.

With as gentle of a touch as you could, you placed one of your hands beneath his injured one and brought it closer, steadying it. You began to ease the adhesive lightly and accurately onto the surrounding skin of the finger.

Your attention being fully on the application of the plaster made yourself blind to the fact that Gustavo wasn’t exactly worried about his wound anymore. Or even thinking about it at this point.

In fact, his eyes weren’t even directed to his finger at all. He was looking at you. At what he could see of the side of your face.

The way your eyebrows were furrowed, this time not in confusion or disbelief, but in genuine concern. 

Or the way your eyes were narrowed so that you could get everything done precisely without incident. And the way your tongue slightly poked through the corner of your mouth in attempt to aim your full brain power onto applying the small plaster.

So much care for in injury that wasn’t costing a life. Or even really hurt that much if Gustavo was honest with himself.

“There.” you breathed out in a way that snapped the guy back into reality and he straightened himself up when you smoothed over the plaster one last time, finally completing the process that definitely took longer than it would with anyone else.

You took a slight step back, failing to hide the pleased feeling from showing on your face as you admired your hard work. “Good as new.”

And then your eyes landed on Gustavo, the look still present. “You did a good job, Mr. Fring.”

“I wish I had a lollipop or something to reward you.” you added on, even fakely looking around and patting your pockets as if trying to locate an item to give him.

And though Gustavo could feel a laugh wanting to rumble through his throat, or the urge to do some form of gesture in amusement. He was still. Expression almost blank while he finally lowered his hand to his side.

“Uh… Sir?”

You had stopped everything that you were doing to help him.

You had slid into the living room on your socks dishevelled and scrambling to get the last piece of clothing properly on your body, and then immediately attended to his little injury like it was the only thing you cared about. Like he was the only thing you cared about.

Gustavo Fring had encountered many men in his life, each with either very similar personalities or very different ones. Most would not even dare to show compassion in the face of others, especially if those people were other dudes. 

But here you were, doing jobs the nicest way that you could in a business like this. Helping out people enough that Mike had been adamant about you being chosen for the job. 

Because he knew that you would care. 

Care for Gustavo in a way that no other man had... Well, not since--

Gustavo’s chin raised after a moment, life flooding back to his eyes that were still set on your own, though it had your eyebrows furrowing once again if they weren’t before. “Mr. Fring?”

“Please.” he said without a second to waste and despite both your disbelief and his own, Gustavo reached for one of your hands, and ended up holding it between both of his, careful to avoid letting his injured finger touch anything.

Your puzzled expression remained as you slowly looked from the joined hands back up to those brown eyes. And despite the many things across your face that asked Gustavo for answer. He just smiled. 

A real, genuine smile.

“Call me Gus.”

[upthewitchypunx]

You all seemed very confused about my last post, trust me, I'm just as confused about the casting a spell that binds someone's sexuality, but I guess that's where we are.

Look, I try to be a compassionate person, but sometimes when you reconnect with someone who was close to you over 20 years ago and invite them to live in your home it doesn't always go well.

I don't like talking about other people's stories, especially online, but this has affected our life and our home and brought chaos into our space. So, this is my story.

This old friend seems to have it together, paid rent early and had a job lined up before they got here. It seemed they were having a bit of trouble adjusting. After a few months it was clear they were going through a mental health thing for the 3rd time in 2 months and making wild accusations and doing hurtful things like smoking cigarettes and massive amounts of weed when they know they have a lung problem and abandoning cats with no food or water or not paying all their rent or giving 30 days notice before they leave town, you just have to cut ties.

This was the last straw. The one before was 2 weeks ago when I was accused of thinking they wanted to use magic to steal my partner and that somehow because I knew stuff they didn't I was making them feel bad about it and that they think I think they just want to steal all my ideas.

I was compassionate. I stayed calm. I said I was confused, asked if she was okay. A few days later she came down crying to apologize, said she wasn't okay. We talked. I told her about the Oregon Health Plan and how she could get some help. She seemed grateful and she did and had an appointment lined up.

Then last week we left for Astoria for a night and she was there at 4 pm to bring a package in but by 1pm the next day when we got home most of her things were gone except furniture that wouldn't fit in her car. We didn't really notice the things gone at first and thought maybe she had gone on a little trip because the cats were still here so we fed them and got them water, then messaged her after a few days. She claims she had a medical issue and called an ambulance. Then her family came here and towed her home. The time line doesn't make sense. Her family is a 12 hour drive away. How long was she in the hospital? How long did it take to pack her car? Why did she leave the cats? Why didn't she tell us on her own about the medical emergency?

I'm a pretty forgiving person, especially if the person is honest and isn't trying to take advantage of me. It often bites me in the ass, but at least I know I can sleep at night and treat people to my own ethical standard until I hit a point.

Last night we got more confusing messages declaring we actually wanted her cats all along and the whole binding her sexuality thing. We decided that it wasn't worth putting effort into this relationship, she's with her family now, we aren't getting blood from a stone, and that we had done as much as we could, calmly said we were confused and hurt and will find new homes for the cats, and blocked her.

I don't usually air someone's personal issues online, but this is someone you will never know, they probably won't see this, I don't really care if they do, and this is my blog and this is an incredibly frustrating, emotionally laborious, and financially unexpected experience we are going through right now and I just need to vent.

I've already contacted a cat rescue about the cute nice cat and the hissing mean cat that won't come out of the closet. Now I need to get rid of a brand new IKEA bed frame, a couch, a big clothing rack, 2 poorly constructed book shelves, a TV, a bunch of clothes and shoes, a record player that doesn't work, a giant stack of new age books, and a bunch of other random shit.

Oh, and cleanse the house of that nonsense before finding a new housemate, which a friend of a friend is interested in.

All of this while we are working to make the shop on the first floor browsable.

Please do not make disparaging comments about someone who is seriously going through something. I don't need to hear it. It won't be helpful or have a point. I'm not mad, just annoyed and wishing people had better communication.

[thomasschabot]

tell you i miss you but i don’t know how

tyson jost x fem!reader

run-ins with an ex-boyfriend keep happening, but you still have so many feelings about him

word count: 2.8k

warnings: alcohol consumption, children, cursing

a/n: this is a repost of a fic i wrote in nov 2020 while existing in this corner of the internet at @/nugnthopkns. a few edits have been made for spelling, grammar, and general flow, but the the story itself remains untouched. enjoy x

⭑⭒⭑

Breaking up was for the best.

You repeat the phrase like a mantra. It’s the first thing you think when you wake up, in the back of your mind as you sit in your cubicle, and verbally repeated anytime you pass a mirror. Deep down you know it’s right — you and Tyson aren’t on compatible lifepaths, and that’s okay. You just wish it didn’t hurt so much to say goodbye. He’s an easy person to miss, with his infectious smile and quick wit. Tyson is the only person who’s made you laugh so hard tears roll down your cheek, the one who always picked up a bag of pretzels on his way home from the rink so you could have a snack after work. Though you didn’t expect to get over him quickly, you had no idea you’d still miss him nearly a year later. Or that it would hurt so much every time you see him in public.

⭒⭑⭒

The bar offers a reprieve from the brisk Denver wind. October has been unusually chilly so far, but the bodies packed like sardines in the open room create all the heat insulation you need. It’s a Friday night and you’re hoping to unwind after a stressful week at work. It’s audit season, meaning you’ve had to pull crazy late nights as you read over the financial records of the firm’s junior partners. Today was particularly terrible, with the computer system crashing, and you really need a drink. Your friends are supposed to meet you, but a text confirms that traffic is heavier than they anticipated and they’re running late.

Not wanting to waste precious time, you head straight for the only empty space at the bar. A bartender a few years older than you sees you approach and leans close to hear your order over the thumping bass. “Could I just grab a gin and tonic?” you ask, and she smiles before turning away to make your drink. A minute later a drink is placed in your hand and you scour the venue for a table. A small booth is available in the corner with the perfect amount of space for your eventual party. It turns out to be an ideal spot for people watching, and you casually sip your drink and occasionally scroll through Instagram while you wait. A text from your friend alerts you everyone is fifteen minutes out. Though it’s pretty crowded, everyone seems to be congregating on the dance floor so you don’t hesitate to leave your table and order a second drink.

This gin and tonic goes down easier than the first, and soon you’re on your third. There’s still no sign of your friends anywhere and the balls of your feet ache from the heels you wore to the office today. You abandon your plan to meet them at the door, firing off a text giving your location in the venue. Once sitting back down, you take off your shoes and rub at your feet. Why did you choose today to abide by the dress code? You typically wore a discreet pair of sneakers and wished you could go back in time to change your shoe choice.

“I see you’re still drinking gin and can’t wear heels for more than two hours.”

His voice sends shivers down your spine. You look up to see Tyson smiling down at you, and the room spins around you. The entire reason you picked this bar was because it was the only one the boys didn’t frequent, but it seems they’re here anyways.

“I’m consistent,” you say, trying to keep your voice even. The sight of Tyson makes your heart clench. He looks good, glowing the way that means the team came out with a win and that he played well and put up some points.

Tyson nods to the empty seat across from you, and against your better judgement you allow him to sit. A small section of your brain thinks he’s going to confess he’s been miserable the last few months, that he’s still madly in love with you. It seems to be the part controlling the rest of your body. “That’s one thing that’ll never change. How’s work?”

You hum wistfully, wishing he wouldn’t make small talk. How is this so easy for him? “Busy,” you sigh. “It’s audit season so the department is swamped. The boys still causing issues?”

“They’re as annoying as ever.” He smiles at you again. The sick feeling in your stomach doesn’t subside. Tyson gives you a quick recap of the Avs’ season so far, and you half pay attention. You’ve gone to great lengths to avoid seeing him — switched the way you drive home, where you hang out with friends, what grocery store you go to. It’s a little ironic he’d find you here of all places.

Idle chatter occurs for a while. Tyson’s talking to you like he’s reuniting with a childhood friend, not an ex-lover. As much as you find the conversation uncomfortable, you can’t turn him away. You miss sitting with him, talking about anything under the sun. Life hasn’t been as bright since the break up. No matter how hard you try, nothing fills the Tyson sized hole in your heart. In a twisted way his presence is comforting, a reminder of what once was. Eventually his teammates realize he’s gone missing and come to whisk him away.

“See you around, I hope,” Tyson says, a little bewildered because J.T is dragging him by the belt loops towards a large table full of rowdy men.

All you can croak out is a feeble “Yeah.” He doesn’t look back once he’s away from the table. You shouldn’t have expected him to, as he seems to be doing fine. Well even. Every step he takes breaks your heart a little more, and you curse yourself for missing him and down the rest of your drink.

Your friends find you crying in the bathroom and usher you home.

⭑⭒⭑

Despite being separated from Tyson, you’re still close with some members of the Avalanche extended family. Mel Landeskog continually reaches out, ensuring you’re doing the best you can given the circumstances. It isn’t easy when your ex-boyfriend is the pride of Denver, plastered over every billboard in a fifteen mile radius of the city. When she called to ask if you’d emergency babysit Linnea while she ran errands you jumped at the opportunity to help.

“Thank you so much,” Mel says, cooing to her daughter who’s comfortably placed in your arms.

“It’s not a problem,” you insist, “I’m just glad I can finally start repaying you for everything you’ve done for me.”

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, telling you to text her if you need anything picked up at the store. You’re then left alone with the baby who is luckily one of the happiest you’ve ever seen. The first hour or so is spent entertaining Linnea with various toys and games. Her smile and laugh melt your heart, and your mind briefly flashes to conversations you had about children with Tyson. You push them from your mind, not wanting to lose your focus. The child in front of you is the one that matters, not the hypothetical one from times past. Around two she gets fussy —  a bottle and quick diaper change satiate her.

“You having fun, pretty girl?” you coo. “I’m not always the most exciting to be around.” She doesn’t respond, just looks up at you with heavy lids. You pull her closer to your chest, rocking gently back and forth on your heels. Within minutes she’s soundly asleep and you head upstairs to place her in the crib.

Back on the main floor, you settle into the corner of the couch. The baby monitor is on the coffee table and you keep your laptop at a low volume to ensure you’ll hear anything. You sift through the mess in your inbox, deleting promotional emails and replying to those that need your attention. After killing half an hour, you quickly check on Linnea before scrolling through social media. According to twitter the Avalanche are on a six game winning streak and are looking to keep it alive. You honestly could care less about hockey anymore — it’s a painful reminder that Tyson is no longer yours. In truth you’re happy for the team because they work hard and deserve it. Other social media platforms yield nothing of interest and you soon feel yourself nodding off. Looking at the clock you realize there’s about an hour left in the baby’s nap, so you let yourself sleep.

A knock on the door startles you awake. Careful not to cause a commotion that could wake Linnea you head in the direction of the entryway. The knocking increases as you approach, and you open the door to a disheveled Tyson.

“What are you doing here?” You didn’t mean for the question to come off so rude, but it does.

He pays it no mind. “Is Gabe home yet?”

“No,” you sputter. “I’m watching Linnea while Mel stepped out.”

Tyson looks stumped. “He should be home by now. We had plans to unwind before the game.” You make no attempt to stop him from entering, and he takes his shoes off without another word. Aimlessly trailing behind him, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he heads to the guest room. “I’m gonna take a nap, have Landy wake me up when he gets home.”

“Can do,” you sigh, but it falls on deaf ears. Tyson’s already got the door shut, and you imagine he’s climbing under the covers, blissfully unaffected by your presence. You can’t say the same. Knowing he’s less than fifty feet from you sends you spiraling. Flashbacks of pre-game cuddles grace the back of your eyelids, and you rub your temples furiously to get rid of the images. It doesn’t help. You want nothing more than to not be bothered by how much you miss seeing him. You miss the way his hands felt entangled with yours and how sweet his voice sounds in the morning. Being this hung up on a person so long after a relationship has ended can’t be healthy.

The baby monitor crackles, signaling the baby, and the only reason you haven’t fled, is once again awake. Linnea’s room is bright and cheerful; the perfect hideaway from Tyson. Sometime during your tenth reciting of Green Eggs and Ham Mel returns. She finds you upstairs and giddily sweeps up her child, missing her terribly even though she was only gone for a couple of hours.

“Did everything go okay?”

You nod. “She was a dream. The happiest baby I’ve ever seen. She might need to be changed soon though.”

Mel nods. “I saw Tyson’s car in the driveway, did he meet Gabe?”

“He’s actually asleep in the downstairs guest room,” you whisper, scared he’ll sense you’re talking about it, and by extension thinking about him, missing him.

“Oh. Shit.”

That’s the understatement of the year. “Yeah.” You quickly help put away the groceries before heading out, not wanting to disrupt the routine more so than you already had. Really though, you want to be as far away from the Landeskogs as possible before Tyson wakes up. You’ll have to do a better job of avoiding him in the future, you decide on the way home. You’re heart can’t take seeing him this frequently — or at all.

⭒⭑⭒

You would rather be anywhere than the Pepsi Center. It’s the first time you’ve been in the arena since breaking up with Tyson and you’re downright miserable. However, you promised your younger brother you’d take him to a game the next time he visited Denver with your parents and you aren’t about to break his heart. Ryan is borderline obsessed with the Avalanche, and hockey in general. At eleven he’s showing significant promise and you know he works hard.

“Ry, slow down,” you huff, desperately trying to keep up with him. The kid is swaying through the throng of people at lightning speed, desperately trying to make it to your seats to catch warmup. Wanting to make the experience special for him, you purchased seats along the glass across from the Avs bench. Your brother halts, tapping his foot impatiently as you join him and match his stride.

Contrary to what Ryan thinks, your seats have not been stolen and warmup is just starting. His winter jacket is soon placed on the seat, revealing the too big jersey underneath. The number seventeen nearly sits at his elbow and the name-bar is askew because one side keeps slipping down, but your brother is exuberant. He’s preoccupied with watching players do passing drills, hands pressed against the glass, and you allow yourself to look around. Virtually nothing has changed since the last time you were here. The banners are still the same, the energy electric. One small difference is your seating arrangement — the better halves’ box is no longer a luxury you have available to you. A quick glance in that direction confirms they’re enjoying themselves, laughing and no doubt in the midst of planning the next off-season wedding.

Ryan grips the hem of your sweater to get your attention. “Look, look,”  he squeals, “Tys and J.T are coming over!” Sure enough, the two friends are making a beeline in your direction. Tyson waves and Ryan eagerly reciprocates. You’re reminded just how much he misses Tyson — they were the best of friends whenever they could get together. Another piece of your heart breaks in that moment, as you realize you aren’t the only hurting from the breakup.

“You’ve got him in the wrong jersey, short stack,” J.T smirks. “Think he’d look better with thirty-seven plastered all over.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll remember that Compher. You got the spare change lying around to buy him one?” There’s no malice in your voice — you truly miss joking around with him.

Tyson throws a puck high enough to clear the plexiglass. “Ry-Guy, catch!” 

It lands unceremoniously at Ryan’s feet, but he beams as he picks it up. The two boys share a makeshift fist bump and quickly catch up with each other. It’s been over a year since they’ve seen each other at this point, and Ryan has so much he wants to talk about. J.T tells a joke that makes the younger boy laugh, and Tyson turns his attention to you.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says, doing his best to convey his sincerity. The energy of the area and the adrenaline have Tyson shaking slightly, and he rocks back onto his blades.

You study his facial features as you inhale. He’s still incredibly handsome, just slightly more defined, like he’s growing into himself. “Likewise,” you exhale. You know you shouldn’t lie but you can’t help it — for Ryan’s sake you need to pretend that seeing Tyson doesn’t make you want to curl into a ball and cry. He smiles sadly, like he knows you’re putting on a show. He probably does — you’ve never been good at hiding your emotions from him. Has been able to see how much you hurt every time you interact?

Ryan recaptures Tyson’s attention for a few final moments before he has to return to the locker room. With a high-five through the glass and a promise to call soon he skates away, leaving your brother to gush about his idol. The game goes better than you could have ever imagined — the Avs gain a landslide victory and Tyson gets a hatrick. After each goal he points in your direction and Ryan goes berserk. You catch yourself smiling, proud of his accomplishment, before you realize you won’t be at the celebratory afterparty. That isn’t your life anymore.

The traffic out of the arena is terrible, and Ryan’s asleep in the backseat before you hit the interstate. In some sort of daze you think about what you’d be doing with Tyson right now if you were still together. Maybe you’d be getting ready to make an appearance at a club to celebrate the big game, but it’s more likely you’d be pressed together on the couch, watching a nature documentary to unwind. It’s moments like that you miss most, where you were both too comfortable and enamored with each other to care about your social obligations. A single tear escapes and flows down your cheek. One turns into ten, and soon you’re sobbing over lost love.

⭑⭒⭑

Tyson Jost isn’t someone you could ever stop loving. He’s the human equivalent of the sun, and even now your life revolves around him. It’s centered on missing him, sure, but that’s a part of him nonetheless. You can only hope it gets easier to deal with.

⭒⭑⭒

enjoy this fic? give it a reblog :) <3