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isolemnlyswearpevensie · 4 years

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Nothing Changed But Everything’s Different | Sirius Black x Reader

Warning: slowburn angst, mentions of slight violence, alcohol, no happy ending

Time/Era: Marauder Era, Ages 18-21

Word Count: 10.1k

Summary: Sirius found someone who made him believe in love at first sight.

Request: Okay! :) Well in that case can I have an ANGST Sirius x Reader? Where they’ve been together for a few years (it’s post-hogwarts only a couple years) but the relationship is starting to sour and crumble. Sirius being Sirius is flirting with other girls and just neglecting y/n. They argue a lot and everyone can see that it’s deteriorating. It gets to a point where he just flat doesn’t acknowledge her even though they live together, long and ANGSTY pls 🥺 :) U decide the ending! :) Ty, much love!

A/N: I worked really, really hard on this so I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think :)

part 2 | masterlist | marauders era playlist | read on ao3

“She’s absolutely gorgeous, Prongs!” A young Sirius Black twirled around the dorm room and fell onto his bed with a dreamy sigh. “She’s witty and smart mouthed, but she’s so sweet and nice at the same time. She listens to the Weird Sisters and Queen and she’s a total badass.”

“Y/N L/N?” James scoffs, bending over a sketch he was working on. It appeared to be an intricate building of some sort, complete with four stories and geometric windows.

“Yes, Y/N L/N! I think it’s love at first sight, Prongsy. I’m going to marry that girl one day.” Sirius laid one of his ankles against the post of his bed. The leather of his boot made a loud squeaking noise, and James cringed.

“Have you ever even talked to Y/N L/N?” James smiled smugly and smudged ink across the side of his hand.

“Have you ever had an actual conversation with Lily Evans?” Sirius countered, making James sputter. James looked diagonally towards Sirius and moved his head so their corresponding bedposts weren’t in the way.

“I have! This morning, for example! We talked about the morning toast for a full 3 minutes!” His glasses began to fog as his cheeks warm. Sirius laughed heartily and threw the pillow that was under his head square at James’ face. With a deep ‘oof,’ James looks back towards Sirius, glasses now crooked. “Fine, don’t believe me! You’re just angry Evans is finally starting to fall for my charm.”

“Ah yes, my bad. I forgot sweat and body odor was irresistible to girls.”

“Lily isn’t a girl.” James reached his slender fingers to level his glasses. “She’s a woman.”

Sirius was sent into hysterics; chest heaving, loud laughter, tearful, hysterics. James rolled his eyes and threw the pillow back at Sirius. But, in all of its glory, the cushion hit Sirius’ bedpost and sent feathers flying through the air. Sirius busts out in even more laughter, falling to the floor with a big, dramatic thud.

“What’s going on here?” Remus asks, entering the room and setting his bag onto his bed. “Why is Pads on the floor?”

“JP assaulted me!”

“I DID NOT YOU THREW FIRST!!!”

Remus chuckled under his breath and unbuckled his bag to retrieve his homework. “And what exactly caused this alleged assault? Did Sirius call you Prancer again?”

A bark sounding laugh came from Sirius and James scowled.

“No, we were just talking about his newfound obsession with Y/N L/N and he took an unwarranted dig at mine and Lily’s relationship.”

Remus snorted and set his work on his desk. “What relationship?” Sirius let out another “HA” and pulled himself back onto his mattress. “And isn’t Y/N L/N the one who called your hair greasy, Pads?”

“Well, yes, but I like a woman with a bit of attitude,” Sirius sighed dreamily. His left pointer finger, ring and all, came to twirl a chunk of his hair. “I think I want an autumn wedding.”

“You’re not getting married to her, mate. You don’t even know her.” James came to Remus’ bed and started poking around his bag. “Are you putting on the scar ointment Pomfrey gave you still, Moons? Hey! Stop picking at that one, you’re going to make it worse!” He slapped Remus’ hand away from his face and Remus rolled his eyes.

“Who are you? My mother?”

“I am too going to marry her, James! Just watch me!”

Peter opened the door solemnly, a grumpy look plastered on his face. James turns nervously towards him before slapping him on the back.

“What happened, Pete? I thought you were supposed to be on a date?”

“I was, but she stood me up. Again.” Peter responds, making a beeline for the window seat. Conveniently, it was located next to his bed, so he haphazardly tossed his school bag onto the mattress. He grabs hold of one of the pillows before hugging it to his chest and burying his head into it. Sirius and James share a look before Sirius speaks up.

“Awh, you’ll get ‘em next time. Don’t worry too much about it. It’s her loss, really.”

“No, it was my loss. It was Abagail Cavin, mate. It was definitely my loss.” Peter’s voice was muffled as he muttered into the soft fabric.

“Who’s Abagail Cavin?” Sirius asks, looking towards Remus for an answer. He shrugs.

“I think that’s the ginger girl who always hangs around Y/N L/N? A year or two below us,” James thought aloud. “She’s friends with Lily too, I’ve seen them studying together.”

Remus snorts. “Of course you have.”

“I don’t know if I’m sad or angry.” The mousy boy admits, throwing the pillow in his lap at the wall. It hit one of Sirius’ Queen posters, making the frame fall to the floor with a loud crash. James is quick to swoop in and redirect Peter’s attention in fear of him escalating.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, there’s no need to get mad at Abagail. Um, how about we go get some sweets from the kitchens, yeah? Maybe that’ll make you feel better.”

Peter tightened his jaw, staring at the now shattered frame on the ground. After a moment of silence from all the boys, Peter nodded and the pair exited the room.

“Y/N L/N,” Sirius spoke in his signature flirty voice. He tried to match her walking pace, but she seemed to be in a rush.

“Sirius Black, what can I do for you?” Y/N answered, her school uniform skirt swaying as she walked. She was on her way to meet Abagail in the library so the two could study together, and she was already 5 minutes late.

“I was wondering if you would -excuse me, sorry- if you would like to go to the next Quidditch match with me?” Y/N seemed to swerve in and out of the crowded hallway like a car in heavy traffic. “Supposed to be a good game, you know.”

“Me? Go with you? While you cheer your little boyfriend on? Thanks for offering, but I have to decline.”

“Come on, you always go anyway! It could be fun!” Sirius finally matched Y/N’s fast gait. “And maybe we could grab some hot butterbeer or cider after.”

Y/N sighed, suddenly stopping at the entrance of the library. She faced Sirius boldly and grabbed his upper arms with her hands.

“Listen, it’s really flattering that you want me to go with you, and I have to admit, you’re super cute. But, you don’t exactly have the best track record with girls and I don’t want to be just a checkmark on your list of girls to shag.”

While any person would be wounded by Y/N’s blunt assumptions, Sirius grins. “That’s where you’re wrong, love. I don’t really have a track record with girls, unless you count the week I dated Marlene McKinnon the October of our 2nd year. It’s our 7th year and I’ve had one kind-of girlfriend.”

Sirius watched as Y/N’s facial expression changed. Taking this as an invitation to keep going, he rubs his hands together and continues. “And if you’re talking about shagging, I’ve shagged maybe three girls who were not on some kind of to-fuck list, thank you very much.” Sirius suddenly leans in so he could whisper. “I’m just flirty. And based on the look on your face, the flirting is working.”

“Y/N!” Abagail’s voice made Y/N drop her hands and Sirius smirk. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, we’re just chit chatting,” Sirius answers for Y/N. “But, I do have a question for you, Ab.”

Abagail’s face scrunched in response. “Don’t call me that. What’s your question?”

“Why’d you stand up my mate Peter?” Sirius now stood with his feet shoulders width apart, arms crossed over his chest and his hair pulled to one side. Y/N couldn’t help but admire how well Sirius’ uniform pants fit.

“What do you mean, stand him up? We talked about hanging out, but we never made actual plans. Honestly, I don’t really think I want to make any official plans. Some of the things he says are kinda scary.” Y/N looks sympathetically towards her friend.

“I told you to just ignore him, babes.”

“I know, I know. I really think he’s a nice guy deep down though.”

Sirius looked puzzled, “What harmless, little Peter Pettigrew says scares you?”

Abagail nods frantically, “He came and sat with Lily and me when we were studying in the library last week. He went on a rant about how he can’t wait to become an Auror just to see,” The girl lifted her fingers to so air quotes. “How far he can take it.”

“That doesn’t sound like Peter at all,” Sirius’ eyebrows knit in confusion.

“Well, it was. And Y/N and I have a lot of studying to do. So, if you’ll excuse us.” Abagail gently tugged at Y/N’s arm.

“Wait! So, is it a date, Y/N?” Sirius called after the girls. Y/N turned over her shoulder and beamed.

“Common room before the match. I don’t like to be kept waiting, Black!”

“You don’t like to be kept waiting… but you think it’s perfectly okay to leave me all alone in the common room? That’s not very kind, Y/N.” Sirius watched Y/N descend the stairs to the girls dormitory. He was wearing his Gryffindor sweater and ripped black jeans, his hair tied messily in a bun. A long, striped scarf dangled lazily on his shoulders and draped down his frame to his mid thigh.

“I said before the match and if I’m not mistaken, it’s before the match.” Y/N tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Are those for me?”

Sirius quickly stood, holding out a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers. “Heh, yeah. I thought it was fitting because it’s the middle of October and we’re going to a Quidditch match. The leaves are orange and there’s so many colors and the sunflowers have the same kind of color pallet-”

“Sirius, they’re lovely. Thank you.” Y/N cut off the blabbering boy. She took the flowers happily and observed their pretty petals. Sirius was right; the rich golden color matched the fallen leaves that littered the Hogwarts grounds. Y/N held up a waiting finger to Sirius so she could go leave her flowers in her dorm.

“It’s pretty cold out, love, do you want to grab a jacket?” Sirius said when she returned.

“It’s all in the name of fashion, my dear,” Y/N pulls a piece of hair behind her ear and nods towards the portrait hole. “Shall we?”

Y/N sat in the crowd with her legs crossed; her shoulders were slumped forwards and her hands stayed sandwiched in between her thighs. Gryffindor was absolutely destroying Ravenclaw with the impressive score of 80-10.

“The snitch is right by Potter’s head!” Y/N screeched, bumping Sirius’ shoulder with her own.

“Where?! I don’t see it!”

“To the right! Meadowes needs to catch it before Lockhart sees it!” Y/N shivers in spite of herself, bringing her hands to her mouth in order to warm them. Sirius snickers and loops his scarf around her shoulders.

“Hopefully that doesn’t ruin your outfit, love.” Sirius winks and turns back to the game.

The scarf was soft and toasty, and smelt exactly like Sirius. The satisfying mix of leather, butterbeer, pine and smoke engulfed her senses and made her dizzy. Y/N wrapped it around her arms and snuggled deeper into the soft knit.

“Meadowes spots the snitch!” Remus announces over the intercom. The entire statum seemed to erupt into chaos; cheers and boos echoing off of every surface within 500 feet.

Y/N had always had a soft spot for Remus; they weren’t friends, but something about him was so warm and inviting. He in no way seemed like the type to announce a Quidditch match, but it appears that when you’re friends with James Potter long enough, anything could happen.

Dorcas zooms past the Gryffindor student section in her pursuit for the snitch. The entire group, Lily and Marlene especially, scream out loud words of encouragement. Y/N could have sworn she could see a faint smile appear across Dorcas’ features.

“Potter scores! 10 points to Gryffindor! 90-10! Ravenclaw could still win if Lockhart catches the snitch!”

“Come on, come on,” Sirius mumbles under his breath. No matter how much he liked to deny it, Sirius got really into Quidditch. He couldn’t play for shit, but he knew the mechanics of the game like the back of his hand.

“Meadowes catches the snitch! Gryffindor wins!!” The entire crowd goes ballistic. Kids hug, and some kiss, before storming the field to congratulate their team. James stays on his broom, doing small loops in the air in the hopes of impressing a certain redhead.

Sirius wraps his strong arms around his date, pulling her to her feet and lifting her into the air. “We won, Y/N! We won!!”

Y/N snakes her arms around Sirius in return, a similar happiness bubbling in her chest.

“What’d ya say about grabbing some hot cider from the kitchens to celebrate?” Sirius questions, noticing they’re the last students at their seats.

Y/N nods, a soft smile gracing her face. “Yes, please. I’m fucking freezing.”

“It would be easier if you just levitated the boxes in, love.” Y/N watched as Sirius struggled to carry boxes into the living room of their new flat. She giggled, admiring her boyfriend’s flexed biceps and strong hands. The prominent veins in his hands and forearms were bulging, making the manual labor a show for his very happy girlfriend.

“I feel like that’s bad luck,” Sirius explained, placing the cardboard onto the floor. “I want to do this right. If I don’t we could be cursed.”

“Whatever you say, babe. But, just so you know, that box goes into the kitchen.” With a flirty wink and smile, Y/N walked into their bedroom to unpack some of their boxes.

Their new flat wasn’t overly exciting; it was a one bedroom, one bath flat above a small bakery in the center of London. It was a tiny space, as you’d expect two barely-twenty-year-olds to own, but it would soon be their home. Y/N was just excited the flat had a kitchenette and a small living space.

The best part, in Y/N’s opinion at least, was the fact that the smell of freshly baked bread filled their flat at the beginning of each day. The elderly bakery owners, Jullian and Caspar, had given the young couple a good price on the flat. According to them, they were waiting for the perfect couple to rent from them. What that meant, Y/N didn’t know, but it made her feel special all the same.

Y/N looked out of their window to the hustle and bustle on the sidewalk below. The shop was a small, hole in the wall bakery called Dream Puffs, that was oddly popular for its location. And Y/N was quick to understand why. Almost everything they made, especially the sour dough bread and cream puffs, were to die for. Jillian had presented Sirius and her a large loaf of the bread and a dozen cream puffs as a welcome present, most of which had been eaten already. Y/N wished she had known of Dream Puffs and the wonderful owners before, but she supposed she still had a lot to discover in London.

The one downside was the only way to get into their apartment was by going through the bakery. It’s not the worst thing in the world, but when you’re in a rush or having a bad day, having to face random people isn’t the most ideal situation. Jullian and Caspar were nice enough to close the bakery early for the couple’s move in.

“I thought you were supposed to be unpacking?” Sirius poked his head into their bedroom with sweat dripping down his brow.

“Oh right, sorry,” Y/N lazily flicked her wand and their clothing sprang to life.

“Bad luck, Y/N!” He entered the room and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, laid his chin on her shoulder and looked out the window. The busy streets and buildings were muted by the glass, which made Y/N feel as if they were watching ants in an ant farm.

“I doubt we’ll get bad luck from levitating a few shirts, darling,” Y/N brought one of his hands to her mouth, gently kissing his knuckles before returning it to her waist. “I can’t believe this place is ours,”

“Well, technically it’s Jillian’s and Caspars, but yes.” Sirius chuckles directly into Y/N’s ear and kisses her shoulder. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Yes and no. Not now, obviously, but eventually. We’re going to be together forever anyway, so why should we rush?”

Y/N sighed happily, feeling very loved.

“Do you think Abagail will ever talk to me again?” Peter asked, laying his head against the armrest of the couch. “I heard she's working at the book shop in Diagon Alley.”

Y/N snorted, laying her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder and enjoying the sound of the record playing in the corner of the room. Sirius and Y/N were hosting a dinner party for their friends in celebration of James getting accepted into the Auror academy. The nine of them -Sirius, Y/N, James, Lily, Peter, Remus, Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary- were all piled in Sirius and Y/N’s small living room, tipsy and full of warm food.

“That happened almost two years ago, Pete. Let it go,” Y/N hummed, Sirius’ gentle hand rubbing her back and lulling her to sleep. She could feel the vibrations of Sirius’ laughter through his leather jacket.

“Yeah, so? I’m not allowed to like someone that long?” Peter’s voice was harsher than he anticipated, making Sirius send a glare his way.

“She means stop moping around and pining after a girl who doesn’t want you. There’s a world of opportunity and thousands of girls just waiting to date you if you open your eyes to it.” Sirius’ tone was barely lighter than Peter’s.

“Well I don’t want thousands of girls, Padfoot. I want Abagail. Not everyone can hit it on their first try.”

“Hit it on their first try?” Y/N was now wide awake. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean,” Peter sat up, looking Y/N straight in the eyes. “You fucked Sirius on the first date.”

“Woah, woah, woah, alright that’s enough. Wormy, Pads, Y/N, let’s all just take a deep breath and calm down for a moment.” James was quick on his feet to defuse the potentially harmful situation. He knew how Peter could get, and he didn’t want to see it escalate to that point.

“Did you just slut shame me for having sex with my own boyfriend? Do you even have the authority to do that, Mr. Unused-Condom?” Y/N was now standing with James, starting to walk towards Peter. Peter stumbled to his feet and stared into Y/N’s eyes.

“He wasn’t your boyfriend then, Miss Drop-My-Panties-for-a-Knut.”

Sirius was quick to act, anger boiling inside of him. His knuckles balled into a fist and he threw a nasty punch square into Peter’s jaw. “No one insults my girl, Peter. I thought you knew better than that.” Sirius’ voice was like nothing Y/N had ever heard; it was cold and icy, yet fiery hot and full of hell-bending anger.

Peter looked up and slugged Sirius right in the nose, making it gush blood. Remus grabs Sirius’ arms and binds them behind his back, trusting James to do the same to Peter.

Y/N shrieked, having never seen Sirius or Peter get physical with anyone, let alone each other. Marlene grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the boys.

“What have we talked about, you two?” James demanded, the vein on his neck bulging.

“I’m not going to sit around and let him harass my girlfriend, JP! He’s a fucking asshole and he knows it!” Sirius struggled against his binds, but Remus was much stronger than him.

“I’m not the one dating a slut!”

“Get the fuck out of my flat!” Sirius screams making the room shake. Peter wiggles from James’ grip and grabs his wand before disapperating out of the room.

Remus releases Sirius and he stomps out of the flat and down the stairs, most likely to go smoke a cigarette. James quickly follows after a glance towards Lily.

“What did James mean when he said ‘what have we talked about,’ Remus?” Y/N asks, her soft voice a stark contrast from Sirius’ shouting. Remus runs a big hand down his face and plops onto the couch.

“I wasn’t supposed to let you girls know,” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Sirius and Peter have been at each other’s throats for the past few years. Recently, it started getting physical. James always tries to defuse the situation, but it doesn’t work a ton.” Remus meets Y/N’s gaze and smiles sadly. “That boy would do absolutely anything for you, I hope you know that.”

Sirius laid in bed with his arms wound tightly around Y/N’s waist. It was near 5 am and the light was just barely peeking through the window of their bedroom. The morning bread must have just been put in the oven, as the smell of fresh bread was slowly starting to overtake the flat. A long sliver of silver light slashed against the wall before fading delicately into the white paint. Sirius sighed contently and looked down at his girl.

Her eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly agape; Sirius observed how Y/N’s eyes moved under her eyelids while wondering what she was dreaming about. He hoped she dreamt of him, as his dreams were constantly riddled with her. Every aspect of her danced around his dreams: her lovely smile, her laugh, her scent, her gait, and everything that made Y/N Y/N. Sirius’ own lips parted a miniscule amount as he brought the back of his fingers to brush her cheek. He couldn’t help but notice how soft her skin was under his touch. She was so peaceful in this moment, and if she was to be disturbed, the world would crack.

But all good things come to an end, and Y/N opened her eyes. Her features were riddled with the grogginess of sleep as she batted her eyes to focus her vision.

“Darling? Is everything alright?” Her voice was honey in his ears.

“Perfect, my love. Go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?” Y/N began to wiggle from his strong grip, but Sirius tightened his hold on her waist.

The man shot a spare glance at the old coo-coo clock that hung in the corner. “Quarter to five”

“Then may I ask why you’re awake?”

Sirius sighed, pressing an opened mouth kiss on her forehead. “Couldn’t sleep, the nightmares are still awry.”

“What was it this time? Your mom?” Y/N was now wide awake and propped up onto her elbow.

“No, the last Order mission, actually,” Sirius gently brushed a clump of hair out of her eyes. “But it’s okay, I’m alright. I have you here with me.”

Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched and her mouth pierced. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, my darling. I just want to lay here with my beautiful girl in my arms.”

“I’ve never been to this bar before,” Y/N giggles as Sirius opens the door to the small building. The outside’s appearance was rather unappealing; cracked, exposed brick that has moss growing out of it, a leaky gutter system, a splintering wooden door and a faded open sign. Y/N looked up towards the LED sign that spelled out the bar’s name. Silver Sickle Bar and Eatery illuminated in the wet pavement, but multiple letters were unlit, making it read Silver Ickle and Eat.

“Me either, one of my clients works here and said she’d give me free drinks.” Sirius winked before following Y/N inside.

The place was small and drafty, but oddly cozy. It had the same exposed brick as the outside, but this time, they were bright red and covered in picture frames. A few wooden tables were scattered across the floor opposite the bar, and various older men sat with beers in their hands.

“Oh, Sirius! My love, you came!” A very angelic girl from behind bar squeals, quickly exciting the bar and throwing her arms around Sirius. Her hurried speed made Y/N step away from the pair to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Sirius chuckles heartily, wrapping his arms around her small frame, seeming to forget Y/N was there.

“Vanessa! Nice to see you again,” He exhaled. A sinking feeling settled in the bottom of Y/N’s stomach. “How is your tattoo healing?”

Vanessa pulls her shirt down to show Sirius the skin in between her breasts. On her skin sat a magical tattoo of a Hongorian Horntail dragon, which looked towards Sirius and blew a big breath of fire his way. The art was gorgeous, very obviously Sirius’ work, which only made Y/N’s stomach sink further into her feet. The red, lacy, v neck bra Vanessa was wearing brought out the ink in the tattoo perfectly, and the shape of the cut displayed not only her breasts, but the dragon beautifully.

Y/N knew that many of Sirius’ clients were girls; she wasn’t stupid. He was a newly licensed tattoo artist at the biggest magical tattoo parlor in all of London. Not to mention, Sirius was an incredibly talented artist, which meant his appointment list was extremely difficult to get on. The charming attitude and good looks only added to the appeal of his artistry.

“Who’s this?” Vanessa turned her gaze from Sirius’ to look directly at Y/N. Her long, black hair fell over her shoulder like a waterfall and her porcelain skin glowed under the dim lighting.

“Oh! Right,” Sirius stuttered, shooting a grin in Y/N’s direction. “This is my gorgeous girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N this is Vanessa, I did her dragon tattoo last week.”

Y/N forced herself to send a polite smile towards the girl who was just all over her boyfriend. Vanessa sent an equally fake smile and began to walk back to the bar.

“And what can I get started for you, handsome?” She giggled, standing in front of the large wall of liquor. Y/N felt as if she was back at Hogwarts with all the girls throwing themselves at Sirius.

“Old fashioned,” Sirius responded, taking place on one of the wooden stools. “And for the lady, tequila on the rocks with lime.”

Vanessa sends Y/N an icy look before giggling sweetly. “Coming right up.”

Y/N sends a worried glance towards Sirius, but he just responds by squeezing her thigh and kissing her temple.

“So, do you have any tattoos? Since you’re so good at your job, I would assume you do, yes?” Vanessa asks, pouring Sirius’s drink and sliding it towards him.

“Quite a few,” He catches the glass before it flies off the bar. “Most of them are covered by my shirt though.”

It was true, Sirius’ torso and shoulders were littered with tattoos: A large lion across his right shoulder onto his bicep, stag antlers across his shoulder blades, a moon on the lower left side of his stomach, rat paw marks under the moon, and constellations riddling his collarbones.

The bartender tilts her head to the side cheekily. “Can I see them?”

Sirius chuckles in a very happy, flattered way. “I don’t think that’s quite necessary here,”

“But I can already see this one…” Vanessa reached her arm across the bar and traced the bottom of the lion’s mane with her long, slender fingers. The tattoo seemed to move with her movements. “Can’t I see the rest?”

Y/N coughs, slapping her hand against the bar. The vibration of Y/N’s sudden movement caused Sirius’ drink to wobble inside the glass. “I think I ordered a tequila not a random chick flirting with my boyfriend.”

“Of course, how foolish of me.” Vanessa sent a scowl Y/N’s way and turned her back to fetch the bottle of alcohol. Sirius matched Vanessa’s expression.

Once the flirt finished making Y/N’s drink, she slid it over to her. Y/N took a sip, only to find it was awfully made and very watered down.

“Sirius, babe, I have a headache, can we go home?”

“You didn’t have a headache a minute ago?” Sirius raises an eyebrow.

“I know, I just feel a migraine coming on. I really need to take my migraine potion before it gets bad. Please?”

Sirius sighs and nods, throwing an arm around her shoulders and kissing her temple. “Of course, babygirl.”

The pair stand from their stools but Vanessa stops them. “That’ll be 2 galleons for the tequila.”

“You said you’d give me free drinks?” Sirius placed a comforting hand on Y/N’s lower back, rubbing small circles over her shirt.

“Yeah, for you. The tequila wasn’t for you.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever.” Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out two galleons, slamming them onto the bar.

“Can I bet on seeing you again?” A loud giggle comes from her mouth as the couple exited the building. “Maybe you can show me your tattoos.”

“I don’t know, Lily! She was all over him and he didn’t stop it.” Y/N bit into an apple and traced the Potters’ tablecloth. It was a month after Sirius and Y/N had visited The Silver Sickle, and Y/N couldn’t keep her anxieties to herself.

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” Lily responded, kneading a big glob of pie crust at the counter. Potter Cottage was much larger than Sirius and Y/N’s flat above Dream Puffs. Earlier that month, Lily had announced she was pregnant, so James decided it was time to upgrade from their small flat to a house fit to raise a family.

“Yes, but each time I try to bring her up he gets defensive and assures me that it was nothing, that he was trying to get free drinks.”

Lily stared down at her dough intensely before grabbing her rolling pin. “Well, I wouldn’t let him get away with it. Maybe try to ask him again tonight? Just sit down and have a real, hearts on the table conversation about your feelings and whatnot. It’s important to do that.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing. He’s been staying at work late this entire week. Apparently, one of his clients is getting a full back tattoo and it’s taking multiple sessions to finish. This is his biggest job to date, I don’t want to ruin it for him.”

“How late is late?” The mom-to-be laid the pie crust into her pan and began to trim the excess off of the edges.

“Nine, sometimes ten. He comes home exhausted.”

“Hm, okay. I’d still try to speak with him if you can. How’s your work going? St. Mungos treating you well?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely. My supervisor said that I’m one of the best beginning level healers he’s seen since Pomfrey worked in my ward,” Y/N took another bite of her apple. “I might get transferred to the branch in France for a week coming up, though. There was a big gas explosion and they have over 200 burn victims. My supervisor said it would be a good experience for me.”

“Oh, I read about that in The Prophet! Those poor people,” Lily filled the crust with apple pie filling. “I’m sure they need all the help they can get.”

“Oh, I know. I haven’t learned much about burn solvents yet, so it’ll be interesting to learn on the job.”

“Are you going this week? What a shame, it’s your birthday on Saturday.”

“Oh, no, the earliest I would be leaving is a fortnight from now. I’m kind of a last resort since I don’t have much experience or training yet.” Y/N stood and threw her apple core into the bin. “How’s JP doing at the Academy? He’s in his second year by now, right?”

“Oh, he’s doing lovely. The Order is grateful for his efforts and have been sending him on more missions than before.” Lily sighs. “It’s rather nerve wracking, isn't it? You’re lucky Sirius doesn’t get called on many.”

Y/N laughed a bit uncomfortably. “Yeah, I suppose they prefer actual Aurors to go on the calls. But when he does go, those are the worst nights. I can’t imagine having to go through that on a daily basis.”

“It’s really hard,” Lily’s voice cracks and she begins to cry. “I’m sorry, it’s the hormones.”

“Don’t apologize, Lils. I know how scary it can be. At least he's with Wormtail most of the time, yeah? They’re at the academy together and all.”

Lily takes a deep breath to control her crying. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Thank god for Wormy.”

“Hello there, pretty lady. I heard there’s a 21st birthday party to be thrown?” James said happily as Y/N opened the door of the flat. Lily and Remus tailed him ever so slightly, all three wearing large grins and holding brightly wrapped packages.

“Birthday party? You guys don’t-”

James waved his hand dismissively. “We’re already here, so you’re kind of stuck with us. Peter should be here eventually.” The three push their way into the living room.

“The nice elderly woman downstairs asked me to bring you this,” Remus held out a cupcake with bright red frosting. Y/N took it happily and walked to the kitchen to set it on the counter.

“Thank you, Moony. But, really, you guys didn’t have to. Sirius isn’t even here.” Y/N felt self conscious around her friends. She was wearing an old tee shirt from her early teens, a beloved Scooby-Doo tee with a rip in the left armpit, and black yoga pants. It was safe to say Y/N was more than ready to spend her birthday alone.

“What do you mean, not here?” Remus was standing in the corner of the living room, flipping through Sirius and Y/N’s record collection. They had so many at this point that the couple was unsure which record belonged to who.

“I don’t know, he left early this morning saying he got called into work. Something about an angry customer.” Y/N felt small under the group’s gaze. “I wasn’t really paying attention, I was half asleep.”

Y/N watched as Lily and James shared a look. “I didn’t think the shop was open on Saturdays, but I guess they are.” Y/N’s shoulders lowered visibly, making Lily backtrack. “It’s the pregnancy brain, Y/N. I’ve been mixing things up for the past week and a half.”

“Right, right. Of course. Um, how’s that going, by the way?” She crossed her arms across her stomach uncomfortably.

“Oh, it’s going wonderful! We actually have something to give you, if that’s okay.”

“Wait!” James cut in. “We should wait for Wormy to get here!”

Lily hit his chest with the back of her hand. “Oh, come off it. You know how late he is to everything! Let’s do it now.” The couple led Y/N to the couch and sat on either side of her, both wearing matching shit-eating grins. Remus remained leaning against the wall, ready to flip the record when the time came. James placed a medium-sized purple box on her lap.

Y/N carefully undid the wrapping paper, prompting James to let out a loud groan.

“Any day now, woman!”

Y/N giggled. “Hey! It’s my birthday! Be nice to me!”

“I am being nice to you, Y/N! I gave you a present, didn’t I?”

Y/N bumped her shoulder with his and reached into the box. Her fingertips met with the soft fabric of a tee shirt. Upon pulling the garment out completely, she observed that the words World’s Best Godmother was printed across the front. Immediately, Y/N dropped the shirt and covered her mouth with her hand.

“Is that a yes?” Lily asked, her eyes tearing again.

“Yes! Oh my god!” Y/N’s own tears trailed down her cheeks as she hugged both tightly. “Me? Godmother?”

“I can’t think of anyone more worthy,” Remus remarked as he watched the heartwarming scene unfold in front of him. Y/N was so overwhelmed with joy that she had almost forgotten that Sirius was absent. Almost.

The party went along swimmingly from there on out; Peter had arrived shortly after Y/N unboxed Remus’ gift, a new cauldron and potion ingredients, and another gift from the Potters, a pair of gorgeous black combat boots. The mousey-boy shuffled over to Y/N and handed her a small gift bag.

“Oh? Thanks, Pete.” Y/N awkwardly pulled out the contents of the bag. “Oh, good, a gift card to Silver Sickle Bar and Eatery.” She tried to sound thankful towards the man in front of her, but the disdain was still evident in her voice.

“Sirius said it was his favorite bar, so I thought you’d like it. Maybe we can grab some lunch there, obviously my treat,” He lazily gestures to the card in her hand. “We haven’t really hung out for a while. I figured it would be nice. If you don’t like it I can get you something diff-”

Y/N cut him off with a hug, “Thank you, Peter, this was really thoughtful. Would next week work?”

“Wednesday?” He wraps his arms around Y/N’s frame for a moment before letting go.

“Wednesday works perfectly.”

The four continued to hang out well into the night; laughing, chatting, drinking, listening to music, and playing board games. As the party dragged on, Y/N couldn’t help but grow worried about Sirius’ whereabouts. Her worries were harshly pushed aside, though, when Lily suggested they play poker.

“Ugh, I fold.” Peter slams his cards down onto the coffee table and laid back onto the carpet in defeat. Y/N smirked at Remus, her only opponent, and gestured for him to show her his cards.

“Straight, beat that,” Remus says confidently. James and Peter “oooh” childishly and looked towards Y/N. It was very apparent that all of them, besides Lily, were very buzzed.

Y/N smirked and shook her head, “You play a hard bargain, Lupin. So good that I applaud you. But,” Y/N laid her hand on the table: four of a kind. “You’re just not good enough.”

The room laughs as Y/N pulls the large pile of galleons, sickles, knuts and Lily’s wedding ring towards her. Y/N slips it onto her own ring finger and holds her hand as if to admire it.

“Oh, Lily, dear, don’t you just adore my new ring? Look at how it glistens in the light!”

The redhead rolls her eyes and snatches it off of Y/N’s finger. “I’ll just be taking that,” She puts it back on.

“It will forever be known to be my legal property, Evans. Don’t forget it!”

“Does that mean I’m married to both of you now?” James smiles a dopey grin and looks back and forth between the two women. Y/N pretends to gag.

“On second thought, I surrender my rights to your ring.”

The group continued their laughter until the front door of the flat swung open. A very drunk Sirius Black stumbled in the door, dumbfounded as to why all of his friends were in his house.

“Why are you guys here?” Sirius slurred, pulling up the shoulder of his leather jacket. He bumped the record player in the process, making Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac skip.

“It’s Y/N’s birthday, Sirius,” Remus responded, his soft voice contrasting to his previously upbeat tone. Sirius slouched against the wall and slid down it until he hit the floor.

“Y/N’s birthday...Y/N’s birthday...Oh! Y/N’s birthday! Was that today?”

James was quick to jump into action. Propelling himself off of the couch, he took Sirius into his arms and brought him to a standing position. Sirius, of course, whined the entire way up, claiming that the floor wanted him to sit there. James responded with a small hum before peeling Sirius’ jacket off of his body and throwing it onto the kitchen counter. As Y/N watched, she couldn’t help but notice a bright pink smear on Sirius’ neck.

“Yes, it’s today, you big goof. Where have you been?”

Sirius went into a big flurry of words as James brought him towards the bedroom. Y/N thought she heard ‘And you should have seen her!’ amidst all the jumbled words, but she pied that off as her anxious imagination running awry. Lily’s hand found her back and she rubbed soothing circles on Y/N’s shoulder blades.

“He forgot,” Y/N said to no one in particular. “I can’t believe he actually forgot.”

“I’m sure he didn’t forget,” Lily soothed Y/N, rubbing circles into her shoulder blades. “He probably got carried away at happy hour, you know how he gets.”

“Happy hour on Y/N’s birthday though?” Peter shook his head. Something about his tone didn’t sit well with Y/N. Lily shot a glare his way.

The party did not last much longer; Remus said he had an interview with Dumbledore about a TA position at Hogwarts, Lily was tired, and Peter said that he was going on a mission tomorrow and needed rest. Y/N bid her friends farewell with large hugs and thank you’s.

It’s safe to say that Y/N slept on the couch that night.

Y/N awoke to sunlight in her eyes and a crick in her neck. The living room window wasn’t guarded with curtains, so even at the early hour of 4:30 AM, the room was illuminated with soft oranges, reds, and pinks. Y/N sat up and reached her hands above her head to stretch her back. She looks towards the bedroom door, listening for the soft snores of her boyfriend. Her neck screamed in agony, but she still stood and padded over to open the door.

Y/N twisted the doorknob with care, trying to be as silent as humanly possible. She needed to see Sirius, not have a conversation with him. Alas, in all his glory, Sirius lied on his stomach with his mouth hung open and drool oozing onto the pillow. The girl admired how he looked as he slept; the sharp jaw, the perfect skin, the messy hair, the peaceful look gracing his features. He still wore his skinny jeans from the day previous, but at some point during the night, he discarded his white dress shirt. Y/N’s gaze darted around the floor until it landed on the crumpled fabric.

Y/N glanced back at Sirius, admiring the artwork that filled his back. She remembered the day he got it; James cried when he first saw the gorgeous antlers. The low light highlighted the dark brown ink and seemed to make his skin appear airbrushed. Y/N smiled in spite of herself.

Closing the door softly, Y/N walks into their small kitchen to prepare some tea in order to calm her nerves. The apartment was rather messy from the ‘party’ and Y/N had to dig through endless dirty dishes to find a mug clean enough to use. Y/N finally found one, a lavender mug that Marlene had given her for her 17th birthday, and set it on the counter while she filled the kettle.

The kitchen wasn’t as dirty as Y/N previously thought. Sure, the sink was overflowing with dishes, but the kitchen itself was rather clean. And besides Sirius’ leather jacket, the counter was clear. The floor, though, was slightly sticky. Y/N sighs and flicks her wand; almost silently, the dishes start cleaning themselves.

Y/N reaches for Sirius’ jacket, only to have a squishy substance fall onto her feet. She jumps back in surprise and disgust of the weird texture. But, the real panic sets in when she notices a big red spot on not only the floor but the leather jacket. Upon further investigation, Y/N realizes it’s the frosting from the cupcake Remus had given her. Sirius was very protective of this jacket and if he saw this, Y/N would be a dead man. So, she did the only reasonable thing she could think of: scrub the material with a wet paper towel.

Thankfully, the frosting came off easily and didn’t stain the material. The only real obstacle was the sweet scent of the frosting lingering on the garment. Sirius had an insane sense of smell, so if he picked up even the slightest trail of sugar, Y/N would be busted. She delicately lifted the material to her nose.

The musky scent of Sirius filled her nose as normal; leather, smoke, cologne, and spearmint. Y/N grinned at the familiar scent until she noticed a strong rose perfume almost ingrained into the leather. Y/N’s perfume smelled of vanilla.

Y/N held her breath as she opened the door of the Silver Sickle, she was in no mood to see Vanessa again. All the same, Y/N put effort into her appearance just in case. She let out her breath when she noticed an old man behind the bar and Peter sitting in the corner.

“Hey,” Y/N said breathlessly as she pulled out one of the wooden chairs and sat down. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel a little nervous meeting Peter alone; the two seemed to rekindle their friendship after he and Sirius fought. He promised that he was just drunk and not thinking, and Y/N not wanting to cause childish conflict within their friend group, had accepted his apology.

“Hey!” He squeaked. “I didn’t know if you wanted to day drink or not, so I just ordered you a water to start off with.”

Y/N laughed awkwardly. “Thanks, Wormy.” She took a long sip from her straw, trying to slow her nervous heart. “So, uh, how’s the academy? James said you are taking more and more missions with the order.”

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, it’s great! Being an Auror is really fun, you really get to show people who’s boss, ya know?”

“Um, I guess?”

“I think they’re gonna kick me out, though. I haven’t done the best job at catching who I’m pursuing.” Peter raises his eyebrows and cocks his head to the side.

“Oh? Why not?” Y/N glanced over the menu, only half listening to what her companion was saying.

“I just like to play with them a ‘lil, like a cat and mouse. Except this time, I’m not the mouse.”

Y/N looks at a delicious looking chicken sandwich on the menu and hums in response.

“So, how are you and Sirius doing? It seemed pretty rough last week.” Peter takes a chunk of ice from his drink and starts chewing it. “If you want to talk about it, I guess.”

This brings Y/N out of her sandwich-filled thoughts. “I don’t know, to be quite honest. We haven’t spoken much and I barely see him. He leaves early in the morning...comes home late at night…” Peter nods as if he was a therapist listening to a client. “I don’t want to assume the worst but he’s making it rather difficult.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you this, because it isn’t really my business, but…” He comps down on the ice cube. “I was coming home from a mission a few nights ago and I saw him with a girl. I’m not quite sure what they were doing but it sure as hell didn’t look platonic.”

Y/N felt her entire world shatter into her lap. “What?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. She was really short with long black hair and a skimpy cocktail dress. They were walking into that club off of Coventry Street. I almost beat the fuck out of him right then and there, but there were bouncers.”

Y/N bit her trembling lip and folded her hands in her lap. Rifling through her purse, she slammed the gift card down and stood.

“Thanks for the lunch date, Peter, but I don’t feel well. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“Was it something I said?!” Peter yelled at Y/N’s retreating back as she left the bar.

“Are you going somewhere?” Sirius asked, gesturing to Y/N’s packed suitcases by the door.

“Yup, I’m going to France for a week to aid burn victims,” Y/N finished brushing her teeth before packing her toothbrush. “Didn’t think you’d care.”

“Well, I do. You could have told me.” He leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms.

“I would have if I actually saw you.” Y/N wasn’t in the mood to argue; she had about an hour before she had to leave, and she planned on using that time to relax with a cup of herbal tea.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You see me plenty.”

“Yeah, when you’re sleeping or showering. There’s not exactly time to chat when you leave early in the morning and come home well past midnight.” Y/N walked into the kitchen and cut a slice of bread. “Oh, by the way, Caspar brought up some sourdough, if you actually want any.”

“Don’t change the subject like you always do, Y/N. I work hard to support us, you know that.”

“I work hard too. And I get home before 11 every night. I’m not exactly sure how being a healer gets you home earlier than a tattoo artist, but whatever.” Y/N buttered her now toasted sourdough.

“Sometimes a piece takes a long time, that’s not my fault! I’ve been getting big jobs recently! You should be happy for me!”

Y/N let out a harsh laugh as she poured water into the kettle. “Do you really think I’m that fucking stupid, Sirius? Really?”

“What do you mean? I think you’re rather smart.” Sirius followed Y/N into the kitchen and was leaning against the counter.

“Yeah? Then why have you been lying to me for the past, I don’t know, two months?”

“You can’t keep accusing me of things, Y/N. It’s not fucking fair!” Sirius stared holes into Y/N’s back. “For fucks sake! Look at me when I talk to you!”

Y/N whipped around, her hair fanning around her face as she spun. “You know what’s not fucking fair? Letting a girl feel you upright in front of me. Lying about going into work. Forgetting my birthday and coming home from who knows where drunk as fuck with lipstick smeared all over your neck. Coming home drenched in another girl’s perfume. Taking your fucking side chick to a strip bar while I’m sat at home wondering if you’re fucking dead because we’re in the middle of a fucking war! You don’t know the first thing about fucking unfair!”

“You’re not going to France, Y/N.” His jaw was clenched and his eyes held nothing but fire. The tone of his voice was like nothing she had ever heard before, at least not directed at her. He usually reserved it for people who yelled nasty things at her from the street, or when someone bad mouthed James. It felt foreign to hear him use it with her. Maybe she didn’t know him as well as she thought she did. “You’re not fucking going, and that’s final.”

“What are you? My fucking mother? I’m going because I’m actually doing something good for the world, unlike your cheating ass.” Y/N pushed her way past her boyfriend and towards her luggage.

“Don’t walk away from me!” Sirius followed her strides. He stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. “Y/N, darling, we need to talk about this-” His tone was notably softer than before as if he was trying to glue together shards of glass.

“Talk about what, Sirius?! How you cheated on me and won’t even deny it? How you betrayed me in the worst way fucking possible? I’m not going to let you manipulate me into putting my career on the line to work out some issue you caused.”

“What, so now I’m not important? You’re a fucking hypocrite!”

“And how exactly am I a hypocrite, Sirius? You treat me like shit and whine that I’m done putting up with it? Gonna go cry to James about how you are so upset I wouldn’t hear you out after you cheat on me? Well, go the fuck ahead because James actually has a healthy relationship with a baby on the way. He won’t sympathize with you.” Y/N grabbed the handle of her suitcase and lifted her wand. “I’ll be back in a week and once we’ve had some time to cool off, we’ll talk about this like adults. I’ll see you soon.”

Just as Y/N apperated out of the room, the kettle whistled and Sirius noticed Y/N left her half-eaten toast on the counter.

It was near two in the morning when Y/N returned home from France the following week. The home was cold, dark, and vacant, and the entire appearance of the small flat had changed. In a week, Sirius had managed to completely trash the house. Even the smell of freshly baked goods was replaced with the sour smell of firewhisky and sex.

Y/N ventured into the kitchen first, where she observed the large stack of dishes in the sink. Everything from to-go packages to their fine china (normal glass plates from the thrift) were stacked as high as the eye can see. Some were starting to mold and produce the most horrid smell. The stove housed the kettle where Y/N had left it, but this time it was cold and empty. Another pot that contained crusty spaghetti sat next to the kettle, and Y/N cringed at the thought of scrapping it out. She moved to the counter where her toast, now stale, sat. Y/N picked it up between two fingers and threw it into the bin.

She carried on into the living room next. The couch cushions were tossed about the room and the small fur throw was draped across the back of the couch. The record player in the corner still held the Fleetwood Mac record Moony had chosen on her birthday as if it were a time capsule; Y/N couldn't help but reminisce about how happy she was with her friends that evening. Maybe that proved that she could be happy without Sirius in her life, or maybe it served as a constant reminder that he was woven into every aspect of it.

Again, the room was covered with food wrappers and alcohol bottles. Y/N feared the liquid that remained in the bottles would leak and stain the carpet, so before moving on to the bedroom, she set each one upright.

The bedroom was what Y/N feared the most; without her presence in the home, Sirius could have been intimate with an infinite amount of girls in her own bed. She shivered at the thought but pushed on and reached towards the icy doorknob.

The room was the cleanest out of the entire flat, just various clothes scattered around the floor and a messy bed. Y/N wanted nothing more but to curl up under her warm covers and press her face into the chest of the man she loved most, but that was an impossible task. He didn’t love her anymore and that was something she had to deal with, she just wished she had savored the last time he held her.

As Y/N explored further into the room, her feet found an article of clothing that neither Sirius nor Y/N owned. Bending at the hips to pick it up, Y/N held a red, lacy v neck bra in between her fingertips. Y/N fingered the material with teary eyes. Another step forward and her feet came into contact with the matching bottoms. Y/N laid the set out neatly on the bed and wallowed; it must have looked stunning on her.

Y/N walked to the desk, where an ink well was left open and a half-written letter laid face up on the surface. She capped the ink with a wet chuckle.

“You need to cap your ink, Sirius. If you don’t it’ll dry out. I won’t be there forever to do it for you.” Y/N said aloud, wiping her running nose. She picked up the letter against her better judgment and began to read.

Prongs,

I know you’re mad at me, but please just hear me out. Vanessa is gorgeous, mate. She’s sweet and nice, but at the same time she's so witty and smart-mouthed. She even listens to Queen and the Weird Sisters!

She made me believe in love at first sight, JP.

I’m going to marry her one day, mark my words!

The ink began to run as Y/N read and cried, making small blotches of black contrast against the stark white paper. Y/N placed it onto the table and gripped the edge to steady herself. Never in her 21 years on earth had she ever felt such pain, such sorrow. Her pains were usually cushioned by Sirius’ arms and sweet slurred language in the middle of the night, or by her friends’ loud cackles. But this time, this time was different; she was alone, completely and utterly alone.

Y/N looked to the wall in order to ground herself; a small sliver of silver moonlight slashed against the wall, illuminating the otherwise dark room. Y/N traced the line with her eyes until she landed on the wooden coo-coo clock.

The clock was one of Sirius’ most prized possessions; it was a gift from his Uncle Alphard that he received when he ran away from the Black family. Alphard was one of the few Sirius still kept in contact with, and he was a big role model to Sirius when he grew up. Debatably, Alphard was the one who taught Sirius how to be a man.

The present seemed lame on the surface, but that clock was one of Sirius’ favorite things when he was a child. Sirius had told stories of the long afternoons he would spend in front of the clock, waiting for the small, yellow bird to pop out of the top while Walburga and Orion fought in the background. Y/N respected Alphard with all of her being, but she wanted nothing more than to smash that godforsaken clock. She wanted to destroy everything that made Sirius happy, she wanted him to be under the same pain he was putting her through.

Y/N knew what she had to do at that very moment: she had to get out of London and move far, far away. So far away that no one would ever find her. So, she grabbed the extra suitcases in the flat and began to pack her things.

Starting at the record corner, she picked every single one of her belongings and shoved them into her suitcase. Y/N had to shrink a few of her belongings, such as the couch, in order to fit, but in a little less than an hour, every hint of Y/N was packed away in three large suitcases.

Y/N gave one last look at the apartment before apparating to Paris, where she knew she could start a better, more meaningful life. Maybe, she could even find a fresh bakery to supply her with warm loaves of sourdough bread.

When Sirius returned to the flat the following morning, the only remaining aspects of Y/N were a striped scarf and two galleons folded neatly on the bed next to Vanessa’s lingerie.

599 notes · View notes

taramaclaywasaterf · 3 years

Text

Hey guys, I know I said I was taking a break. And I am. I’m not actually, like, back back. I just need to vent, I guess.

For those who don’t know, my grandfather committed suicide. He’d been battling lung and stomach cancer for years, and the pain had gotten so unbearable that I guess he couldn’t take it anymore. He’d been in and out of the hospital for years, and the whole month leading up to his death, he was home maybe 4 nights total, the rest spent in the hospital. My dad found him. We’ve been grieving together. It’s been hard.

My family doesn’t really get along that well. Basically just me and one of my cousins are really close, but that's it. My grandfather was kinda the glue that was keeping everyone together. His death was kind of like the final string that was tying us all together being severed.

I don’t know. The police had to come. It was really really bad. They had to make sure he wasn’t murdered.

I just hope it was quick. I hope he’s with my grandmother now. That she was waiting for him on the other side, wherever that may be. That he’s not in any pain anymore. That he knows I love him so fucking much.

As for me, I just feel…I just feel fucking numb. This happened two days after the anniversary of the death of my best friend, and less than a month after the death of Trevor Moore, a comedian whose sketches made me laugh during the worst times of my childhood and whose sudden death really fucked me up.

I kinda just shut down. I didn’t really cry at all the first day. The second day all I did was cry. After that, its like my body physically stopped letting me feel anything at all. I’m just numb. And tired. And my fucking head hasn’t stopped hurting.

I walked around his house and got some things I wanted. Some old photos. Cards I made him when I was little that he kept all these years. Some love notes my grandmother wrote him when they were young. His favorite hat. I found a photo from his wedding to my grandmother, and its now hanging above my bed. Its crazy how much I look like her. How happy he looked to have her in his arms.

I also brought home his cat. I was terrified he wouldn’t fit in with my two cats and dog. But after a bit of a shaky start, and a lot of hours spent sitting with him trying to get him to trust me, he’s settled in. My grandpa rescued him from a shelter when he was a few years old. He loved my grandfather more than anything. I can tell he’s still mourning him, like we all are. But I like to think we’ve been helping each other get through it. I hope my grandfather knows I have him. That he’s not going anywhere. That he’s safe with me, and he’s happy and warm and loved. He’s curled up on my lap right now as I write this. He’s purring quietly.

I miss him. I wish I told him more that I love him. I wish I spent more time with him. I wish I could’ve at least said goodbye. I’ve been through a lot of grief in my life, and it never fucking gets easier. I wish I could take this feeling out of me leave it somewhere for a while. I wish I could fix things. I wish my dad didn’t have to see what he saw. I wish I could make it better for him. I wish this wasn’t how things were.

As for how I am right now, well, I’m laughing. Hysterically. And crying. A lot. I took a break writing this post because it was getting too hard, so I distracted myself by watching dumb videos on my phone. Until this video of Trevor Moore popped up in my Youtube recommended:

youtube

And now I genuinely can’t fucking stop laughing. Like, holy fucking shit, Trevor. You really had a way of making jokes that are flat out prophetic, huh? Here I’ve been, on the verge of relapse for the past month over how bad your death fucked ME up, and here you are, years ago, calling me out for how completely and utterly ridiculous I am. And the fact that I’m even writing THIS right NOW makes it even worse! Look at me, acting as if you fucking died to make me learn a fucking lesson! As if my own fucking grandfather died to make me appreciate life more! As if my best friend wrapped her goddamn car around a tree just to make me realize how precious fucking friendships are! As if the entire fucking universe revolves around deliberately fucking my life up! Its pathetic! Its fucking tragic and fucked up and absolutely mind-blowingly fucking pathetic! And yet here I am, writing on the fucking internet to you, Trevor, still doing the same fucking thing! And I can't fucking stop laughing, because this is the most Trevor fucking thing I can possibly think of!

Like. I don’t even know what to do anymore, guys. I know I said I’d be taking a break, and I still am. I just needed to get this out. I don’t want to bother my friends with it, they’re worried enough about me as it is right now. They're kinda treating me as if I'm made of glass right now, which I understand, but its still frustrating. I know they just want me to be ok, and just want to keep me from doing anything stupid and fucking up my life again, but still. Being treated like a paper doll at a waterpark is getting tiring. I guess it just speaks to how entirely not-great I'm doing- that even my closest friends aren't making jokes about this shit- they're acting like I'm some fragile fucking child. But yeah.

Again, I know they mean well, and they just really don't want to see me get sucked down into that fucking void again, but I want to be distracted from all the fucked up things in my life. I want to laugh about it, and not be constantly fucking reminded of how bad things are every time I catch them looking at me like I'm some sad little puppy dog they found on the side of the road.

Oh! to top it all off, I got a letter in the mail yesterday. From my mother. Who I haven't spoken to in around a decade, because she was an abusive addict who made my childhood hell. She wants to have fucking coffee and "catch up." Jesus fucking christ, why now. Seriously. Why fucking now? Nothings been released publicly about my grandfather yet- the only people who know about it is immediate family, and everyone on my dad's side of the family fucking hates my mom almost as much as I do, so there is no way in hell anyone told her about it. So this is just a total coincidence. A giant fucking cosmic "fuck you." (Oh, look, there I go again thinking my existence is meaningful enough to the entire enormity of the universe that it would target me specifically to fuck with! Jesus fucking christ!) Like, I swear to god this fucking woman has some sort of alarm in her brain that says "oh hey, my daughter is at one of the the lowest points in her life?? Time to drop on by and say hello!!!!"

Just...I don't even know. Fuck. I don't know how the fuck I'm gonna get through all this shit, yall.

Well. Anyway. Thats it for now.

Find Kony 2012, I guess.

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the-regal-warrior · 4 years

Text

Earl Grey and Cappuccinos: Part Three

The next part is finally here. It’s short, it’s sweet, it’s fluffy. Also, you’ll notice that this story is mostly just me indulging myself and @nalgenewhore - but it’s such an adorable story that I don’t think you guys will mind. Oh, and y’all can thank Isa for the adorable new couple you’re about to meet.

Summary: It’s a Coffee Shop AU meets Rival Tattoo Artists AU meets Elorcan - do I even need to say anything else?

Warnings: Language and fluff, my friends.

Elide had been going through her appointment book while she sat at her desk in the office, trying to decide which sketches she needed to get started on, when her phone lit up with a text from Lorcan. Glancing down, she saw that all he’d written was: send help, the guys are dicks.

She sent him a quick reply - aww, you poor thing - before grabbing her bag and making for the door. “Nehemia,” she called, rapping her knuckles on the counter to get the other girl’s attention. “I’m heading out - you’re in charge of any appointments anyone wants to make with me.”

Nehemia just offered her a wry grin. “And where could you possibly be off to? Going to see the boyfriend, perhaps?”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Elide quipped back, winking as she backed into the front door to push it open. “You didn’t shut up about Sorscha for at least a month after the two of you started dating.”

“Oh please,” she huffed, though her giggles followed Elide onto the sidewalk. “It was only two weeks!”

Chuckling to herself, Elide slipped her headphones into her ears as she made her way to Cadre Ink, only making one stop on her way. She listened to the Dead Kennedys the entire walk, and she found that she loved the music even more because it reminded her of Lorcan.

When she finally pulled open the door to Cadre Ink and pulled her headphones out of her ears, she couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled out of her throat when she realized the exact same album was playing over the shop’s speakers.

Most likely hearing her laughter along with the jingling of the bell hanging over the door, Vaughan looked up from the front desk. “Hey, Elide,” he greeted, vaulting over the counter as she pulled the door shut behind her. “Something amusing about the ridiculous music your boyfriend picked out this morning?”

Still giggling, she replied, “no, not at all - I love his music.” When he just arched one eyebrow, she elaborated, “I was listening to the same album on the way over here.”

“Ridiculous. The both of you are completely ridiculous.” Vaughan just shook his head at her, though he did wrap an arm around her shoulders as she walked up to him, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. He and Lorcan had grown up together, and Elide knew that her boyfriend was thrilled that the two of them got along so well.

Flicking the side of his head, she wiggled out of his embrace so she could glare up at him. Even though she was a head (and then some) shorter than literally all of the boys who worked at the shop, she still had the impressive ability of being able to glare down her nose at all of them. “You love us and you fucking know it.”

Vaughan huffed a laugh. “You, I’ll admit to. But not the fucker you call your boyfriend.”

“Trying to discourage her from dating the brooding motherfucker in the back, are you?” Fenrys wandered into the lobby just as Vaughan finished speaking, hauling himself up so he could sit on the counter. “What’s good, E?”

“Well, my tits, but we all knew that. And my taste in men, obviously.” When Fenrys just scoffed at her, she leaned her weight against his thigh, digging her elbow into the sensitive skin hard enough that he winced. “What do you have against my mans?”

“Fuck, woman, stop bruising me!” Fen pinched her arm until she backed off, Vaughan just laughing quietly at the two of them. “You mean aside from the fact that he’s a brooding motherfucker?”

“Yes, you asshole, aside from that.”

“He’s just a miserable prick, E. I don’t know how you put up with his whining.” Vaughan nodded along with his words, and Elide just shook her head at the two of them.

“He’s hot,” she quipped, walking toward the office at the back of the building. “And he really knows how to use his hands!” That last bit was shouted over her shoulder, and she heard both of them groan at what she was implying.

Waving at Gavriel where he was busy prepping for a client in his suite, Elide continued her walk into the back, rapping her knuckles on the open door into Connall’s piercing suite as she stopped to poke her head in. “Hey, Con.”

“Hey,” he greeted, offering her a gentle smile as he nodded at the drink in her hand. “Bringing a certain someone his tea?”

“Like any good girlfriend would,” she joked, lifting it once in his direction as she backed out of the room. “Better get it to him before it cools too much.”

Connall just chuckled. “We wouldn’t want his highness drinking cold tea.”

“It would be a tragedy,” she quipped, waving as she moved down the hallway. She walked into the office just as Rowan was standing from his chair, and he grinned at the sight of her. Lorcan was sitting with his back to the door, his hair tied up in a messy bun as he worked on a sketch, the pencil practically flying over the paper.

Rowan brushed by her, knocking his shoulder into hers in greeting even as he chuckled quietly at the tea in her hands. She just smiled and leaned into him quickly, happy that Lorcan’s friends had quickly become her friends, too.

Walking up behind her boyfriend, she carefully set his tea on the desk next to him before she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hey there, handsome.”

Though he’d startled at her initial touch, he practically melted into her embrace when he heard her voice in his ear. She barely had time to press her lips to the side of his neck before he was turning his chair around to face her. “Hello, my love.”

She realized he was wearing his glasses as he worked, and she was quite taken by the way he looked with his hair up and his glasses on. Though she thought he looked hot no matter what he was wearing, this had to be one of her favorite looks. She’d just stepped back further to really take him in, but Lorcan’s hands on her thighs stopped her in her tracks.

“Damn, mamas,” he whistled, eyes lighting up as he looked her up and down. She was wearing an old black t-shirt of his that she’d stolen from him the last time he spent the night, and since he was over a foot taller than her, it hit her mid-thighs. She’d paired it with fishnets and her Doc Martens, her dark hair in two Dutch braids that fell over her shoulders. He slowly slid his hands up her thighs, under her - well, his - t-shirt, as he said, “if I let my hands keep wandering, will I find cotton or lace?”

Leaning down to brush her lips against his in the barest hint of kiss even as he hands kept moving, Elide just whispered, “denim, babes.” She smirked as his fingers hit the bottom of her admittedly very tiny shorts and he groaned, his head falling against the back of his chair.

“Such a little tease,” he replied, pulling her down into his lap. He lifted one hand to twist one of her braids around his finger, the other pulling her hips down into his. She groaned at the feeling of his hardening length rocking gently against her clothed pussy, and he smirked up at her. “But I guess that’s why I like you so much.”

She rocked her hips into his, laughing when he hissed out a breath. “I just like you for the pretty little noises you make.”

He laughed at that, a loud sort of laugh that echoed around the room. She’d come to realize that wasn’t a sound he made very often, and it sent a thrill of happiness through her every time she made him laugh. Cupping her face in both of his hands, Lorcan pulled her down so he could kiss her, a simple, sweet kiss that cooled the passion that had been burning between them moments ago but was still full of so much feeling.

Pulling back until he could look into her eyes, he offered her a happy little grin. “So what brings you here, my love?”

“Well, you told me to send help.” Leaning over his shoulder, she grabbed the tea he hadn’t seen in his excitement over seeing her. “So I thought an Earl Grey might be just the kind of help you needed.”

A truly beautiful smile spread over his face as he took the cup from her hands. “Elide,” he breathed, ghosting his fingers over her cheek. “This is perfect - thanks, mamas.”

“You got it, babes.” She leaned down to kiss his jaw. “I know how to keep my man happy.”

Lorcan pouted his lips at her for a kiss, which she obliged. “You most definitely do.” He leaned up to kiss her again, this one growing deeper as he carefully set his tea on the desk behind him. She wound her arms around his neck as his slipped back around her waist, and she found herself cupping the back of his head so she could angle his head and kiss him harder.

He’d just started rolling her hips over his lap when someone heaved a massive sigh from the doorway. “Will you two fiends get a room already, for the love of the gods!”

Lorcan had barely pulled his lips from hers before he was grabbing a stress ball from his desk and chucking it toward the door. Though all five guys had gathered in the doorway at Fenrys’s exclamation, it hit him right in the forehead, sending everyone else into hysterics.

Even as she laughed at the absolute bewilderment on Fen’s face, Elide couldn’t help the happiness growing in her heart. Lorcan’s friends had accepted her as one of them, and that meant everything to her. She knew how much this little family he’d created meant to him, and she was thrilled that she got to be a part of it.

Tags: @highqueenofelfhame @city-of-fae @musicmaam @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @tacmc @tangledraysofsunshine @lordof-bloodshed @how-to-be-a-bad-ass-be-me @nalgenewhore @bookrebelwordwarrior @sleeping-and-books @photofeesh @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @belamoonbeam @mis-lil-red @julemmaes @empress-ofbloodshed @thesirenwashere @mynewdreamwasyou @illyrianshadowhunter

As always, if you want to be added to or removed from my tags, just let me know. And let me know what you thought!

#earl grey and cappuccinos #egac #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elorcan #throne of glass #tog #my writing

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whitmanpumpkin · 4 years

Text

falling for bill hader during your snl days would include...

look, it started as this simple little thing about you and bill meeting during his snl days, and then it turned into this and i just...uhm. yeah. it’s not simple and short anymore. enjoy! (and i feel like it goes without being said, but he’s not married in this.)

your lengthy relationship with bill would start somewhere on snl. you were originally an assistant for lorne, which translated to fielding calls for him and ironing out an insanely busy schedule that made you anxious just to look at. oh, and he put you in charge of getting everything set up for wednesday night snl table reads.

the table read, a very “casual” affair made up of comedians and writers in hoodies and jeans, was never meant to be a big hoopla. somehow, though, that’s what it always turned into. before you knew it, there were seventy-plus people packed into this small room on the 17th floor on 30 rock and crowding around a table as the sketch reading for the first episode of season 31 began. with lorne sat next to the week’s host (would you believe – steve carrell), the reading commenced.

you were too busy fretting over making sure everyone was seated and engaged that you missed bill’s introduction. it was a quick “meet our new features,” and a glance over to him and andy sandberg. by the time you glanced over to them? everyone had moved on and were on to the next bit of business; seth myers was halfway into the first page of one of the possible cold open sketches.

it’s after the table read that seth introduces you. he could see how busy you were with making sure lorne had everything running smoothly, but seth was a nice enough guy to know that your week would go smoother if you had a clue who these guys were. so, you shake hands with andy and bill and smile at them before you’re running to catch up with lorne – who’s already halfway down the hall with steve carrell.

over the following months, you would catch glimpses of bill at various rehearsals and table reads, but never really had the time to think about him for more than a fleeting moment. snl was only one of the many things you had to keep an eye on while working for lorne.

okay, it was a really important one to you, the one you kept an eye on the most, but it was just another knot in the rope you had to pull on a daily basis. lorne demands excellence. you knew that from the moment you got the job as his assistant. it was the reason you had applied; if you started as an assistant to lorne, maybe there was a way to get into the dream job of an snl writer someday? and maybe there wasn’t, but at least there seemed to be a shot. but that had been close to two years ago, and while lorne was a nice enough boss, he probably had no clue about your aspirations.

so the months passed in a steady flow.

sometime after midnight on a particularly heavy tuesday/wednesday writing night, you’re leaving lorne’s office when you decide to stop in and see how the writers are doing on the 17th floor.

the season finale was this week, and the pressure was on to find the perfect sketches. as you entered seth’s office, you found him with his back on the ground and his legs against the door, holding a pencil in his teeth. bill sat in what was normally’s seth’s chair and listened to his buddy rattle on about some “baby hitler” sketch they could do.

you hand off their usual coffee and sit down in the corner, providing the comfortable silence you were very much known for on set. bill’s starting to ramble about how the sketch won’t work, and seth’s just humming so bill knows someone is listening. hitting a wall never looked so depressing. but at least you could provide moral support, so you stick around while they work through the rest of the sketch.

and bill makes you laugh. seth does too, but something about bill’s own laugh never fails to send you into a bout of hysterics — especially when you’re exuasted.

it becomes a ritual for you to come in and stick around with them on those nights, and soon enough you were helping them with sketch ideas and jokes.

the first time bill laughs at one of your jokes, you have to fight a racing heart. it’s kind of impossible though, because he’s laughing so hard that he’s slapping his leg and you can’t help but join in — which only makes his worse.

the months pass.

before the end of the season, seth brings up the fact that one of the writers is leaving the show and a position is going to open up. he practically begs you to audition.

so, you do. and it’s a hot june day when you’re standing in front of lorne, more nervous than you’ve ever been. but the moment passes like a blur, and your friends like bill and seth are waiting for you afterwords with praises.

when you get the job as a writer a few days later, you can’t help yourself from crying. you manage to hold it in when lorne comes and tells you himself, but as soon as he leaves you to process the information -- your shaking hands are shooting a text to bill and telling him the good news (as though he didn’t already know from seth).

you two end up getting drinks, and he’s a little drunk as he tells you, “you know you deserve this so much. like you work your ass off.” and then his voice drops to a whisper and you barely hear him when he says “i know you don’t need me to tell you this, but i’m so proud of you, y/n.”

and your heart stops for just a second.

he gives you the goofiest, drunk smile before he turns back to the bartender and makes sure you get another special drink. you’re pretty sure you’re drunk off of something else.

over your first season, you find yourself starting out by writing one (maybe two) sketches a week. and it’s pretty easy to see what they have in common. although kristen is the first to point it out, she’s probably not the only one that knows.

when she poked the hornet’s nest over drinks a few weeks before chirstmas, you‘re quick to backtrack. “no, no.” you hiss at her. “it’s not like that. bill’s just really talented and he can play a lot of characters.” your heart is racing because what if she’s right? what if you do like him like that, and everyone knows now.

kristen rolled her eyes, and you never say anything else on the subject. it doesn’t stop you from writing more sketches and bill being cast as a lead. you get past christmas without any issue. hell, you even get through valentines day and st. patricks day without anymore issues. but then, the jokes start again.

it’s a few weeks away from the easter episode of your first season that you start to panic, because you’re pretty sure bill thinks something is up. so, you do the only rational thing you can — stop using him in sketches. cold turkey.

you’d actually managed to go a couple of weeks without using him in one of your sketches, which had increased to about two or three a week. you thought you were on a pretty good streak, but now easter had come around and seth thought it would be a good idea if the two of your wrote another vincent price holiday special.

when you bring the idea up to bill, he’s not quite sure if it would even work. “a easter special? you really think that could work?” he has that skeptical gleen in his eyes that was common when he pitched his own sketches, but you’d never seen it directed to one of yours. when you try and explain the absurdity of it, he’s still shooing it away. “i don’t know if you want to use me.”

“what are you talking about?” you asked, incrediously. “you’re our vincent price. you have to do it.”

bill hesitated for a second. “i thought you weren’t using me in sketches anymore.” and you swear that you hear a little bit of hurt in his voice, but fred armisen is calling your name before you have the chance to ask him about what he means.

you go on and help seth write the sketch that night, so it’s ready for the wednesday night table read. but bill doesn’t meet your eye when you and seth pitch it, but at least he goes with it and it gets a lot of laughs. lorne approves it and has his new assistant write it out on a note card to use for the lineup.

something’s not right. you can feel this horrid nagging in the pit of your stomach on thursday, which only gets worse when you send bill rewrites and he still won’t meet your eye. you try and talk to him for a few minutes, but he seems to cut off any conversation and you’re too tired of this to try anymore. so, you let him go and don’t know why you’re so close to crying when you shut yourself in to yours and seth’s office.

on friday, you’re starting to get worried.

it’s costume fittings for your sketches, which means you and seth are standing in front of bill in his vincent price costume while he avoids eye contact with you. you could do 24 hours, and even 48 hours without him talking to you. but this was getting to be too much to take, and you couldn’t keep pretending like everything was easy between you two.

when seth asks the costume designer about an addition for fred’s liberache, you pull bill to the side.

“what’s wrong?”

you have to ask. it’s not like you can just keep this charade going.

he tries to wave it away. “nothing. i’m fine.”

but then you’re fighting back because obviously it’s not, and you hate that he won’t talk to you. and he can see the pleading in your eyes. and he really hates himself because bill never wanted you to feel like this. and he just sighs. “it’s stupid.”

“what?”

“it’s really stupid.” he says, like it’s a warning. “i shouldn’t have said that thing about you wanting to use me. i just let my head get the idea that you didn’t like me anymore and didn’t want to put me in your sketches.”

and you’re kind of speechless for a second. you want to say a million different things to him; he looks like he wants to, too. you can only manage to get out, “bill, you know i adore you.”

and you don’t hear how his breath catches in his throat because (of course) seth is calling your name.

the rest of the day passes without another interaction with bill. you see him in the halls on a few occasions and he smiles brightly for you, but it’s not until the end of the night when you catch him waiting for you outside your office. you’d had to stick around and finish up some things with the other writers, so the fact bill waited around sent your heart racing.

leaning against your door, with his hands in his pockets, bill was like a beautiful and tired vision. “you want to go get some coffee downstairs?” he said.

you can’t tell him no.

so, ten minutes later he’s handing you your drink and trying to explain just how much he let his anxety overtake him. you knew it could get bad sometimes, but the thought had never crossed your mind as being the reason he wasn’t talking to you. you listened as he continued on about how much he likes your writing, and how he appreciated that you would keep putting him in your sketches (even though his anxiety wanted to keep him in the background). and “i know everyone jokes about you liking me, and that’s why you write sketches for me, but it wouldn’t matter even if that’s why you did. anyone should be happy to have one of your pieces.”

you feel like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t. he just lets his words resonate for a second, and for you to smile back at him, before he’s launching into a story about seth and one of the other writers from earlier this week.

the sketches go off great on saturday, like bill was sure they would, and when you get home somewhere close to 3am after the show, there’s a text waiting for you from bill.

[ See you @ monday’s pitch. You’re going to have another great we eek.]

and he’s right. the last few weeks for the year go off without a hitch. well, without anymore hitches than your used to for snl. as the season closes and the host says goodnight, bill’s the first to give you a big hug while the band plays everyone out. in fact, with his 6’1 stature, he practically lifts you off the ground.

there are the fifteen afterparties and the twenty goodbyes, but you’re finally heading home as you hail a taxi.

“you don’t mind if i share that, do you?” a voice asks from behind. when you turn, bill’s got his hands in his pockets and it’s as though he’s expecting you to tell him no. but how the hell can you do that?

when you two give your addresses and settle in, there’s the obligoutory chat about how you’re going to spend your summers. he was thinking of going back to l.a. you weren’t sure yet — which both of you already knew. but up until this point, bill didn’t follow up with the question, “well — there’s a room open at the place i’m staying in l.a.?”

and that?? well, we’ll leave that for another time.

#look i know you'd be ashamed of me bill but i really don't care anymore #yOULL NEVER SEE THIS AND THIS IS A PIPE DREAM BLOG #bill hader #bill hader imagine #bill hader self insert #bill hader x reader #bill hader x you #bill hader and reader

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lilyvandersteen · 6 years

Text

Puppy Eyes Chapter 19

So, uhm, if you need a warning for sexy stuff? Consider yourself warned. This is where the mature rating kicks in. Ahem. *Scuttles away to hide in a corner*

Thank you so much to everyone who sends me feedback - you’re wonderful and you spur me on to keep writing :-)

This story is also on AO3 and on Fanfiction.net.

The other parts can be found here: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 19: Perfect With You

Once the spell was broken and they were finally officially together, Kurt found out that the charm, affection and little attentions Blaine had shown him before were nothing to the love Blaine showered him with now.

The day of their first date was magical from the moment Kurt woke up, to delicious smells from the kitchen and Blaine’s incandescent smile the moment he saw Kurt. Kurt may have curtailed the poodles’ usual morning walk because the lure of a cooked breakfast was too strong to resist. When he got home, he practically inhaled the food Blaine set in front of him – so good!!

Because it was raining, Blaine gave him an umbrella as a present, and Kurt beamed as he opened it and offered Blaine his arm. For a moment, he felt like they were in a 1950s musical. He imagined the both of them tap-dancing down the street and had to tamp down his laughter.

Blaine took them to a gigantic museum where there was an exhibit about sea animals. The hall it was in was gorgeous. Kurt couldn’t stop staring everywhere – there was something so soothing about this ocean atmosphere.

They didn’t have to go far for lunch, yet they still got drenched before they reached the restaurant. Kurt’s hair was a wet, flat mess. He tried to get it back into shape using his emergency comb and the hair dryer in the restroom, but it stubbornly kept flopping down into his eyes. Ugh.

Kurt shrugged at his reflection and went back to the booth he shared with Blaine. Blaine had seen him in all sorts of sorry states – in clothes with grass and mud stains from his dog walks, in ratty sleep T-shirts, with a bedhead, sweaty in his workout gear – and he still hadn’t run for the hills, had he? So Kurt didn’t need to impress him at all, he could just be his floppy-banged self.

After another dog walk, Blaine bundled Kurt up in a blanket and they cuddled on the sofa, drinking tea and watching Casablanca. Once the tea cups were on the coffee table, Kurt tugged Blaine on top of him and threw the blanket over them both. They traded lazy kisses, and Kurt ran his hands over Blaine’s back, slowly, grinning when that elicited a pleased hum and a flutter of Blaine’s lashes.

Later that afternoon, they went to The Sweetest Thing bakery. Kurt guessed they both qualified as crazy for starting to plan their wedding while on their first date, but he really couldn’t care less. After all, they’d been living together for over a year, hadn’t they? They’d shared a bed and everything. They knew they suited each other well. So far, the only thing they hadn’t done together was have sex. And wow, that thought made his stomach swoop.

Mrs Peters was friendly and accommodating. She wasn’t fazed at all when Kurt started detailing exactly what he wanted on his wedding cake and started sketching it out on the napkins meant for the taste-testing. She nodded and smiled and made suggestions to enhance the design. When at long last, Kurt was happy with his final sketch, he looked up and saw that the table was a mess of discarded scribbled-on napkins, and he hurried to apologise.

Mrs Peters waved that off with a laugh. “It’s good to see someone who’s this passionate about their cake. Most of the time, if I want to know what design the couples want, I have to show them tons of pictures and they take ages to make up their mind. You know exactly what you’re going for. I like that.”

Then, they tried out the different kinds of cake the bakery had on offer, and Kurt started to fidget a little when he was on his fifth piece of cake and still hadn’t tasted anything he liked. When the next cake hit his taste-buds, though, he beamed. Now THAT was more like it, and he was quick to say so.

Blaine had no objection, so that was their wedding cake sorted out. Kurt looked at the sweet Mrs Peters and wondered whether she’d be smiling like that if she knew they’d only been together for a day and weren’t engaged at all.

I bet she wouldn’t… I really should talk to Blaine about this situation. It’s ridiculous. But then why does it feel so right?

Mrs Peters filled in the order form, and asked for the wedding date.

Oops, busted!

But Blaine just told the baker that they hadn’t decided on the venue yet, and summed up the dates for the top three. Mrs Peters didn’t so much as blink when Kurt and Blaine started discussing the venues, and just asked them to repeat the dates so she could write them down.

Huh. I guess we’re not the first indecisive couple she’s dealt with.

Before they left, Blaine paid half of the price of the wedding cake, and Kurt went pale when he heard the amount.

“The remainder will have to be paid three weeks before the wedding date,” the sales assistant told Blaine, who nodded and smiled at her with a “We’ll be back!”

Wow. I guess we’re really doing this, then.

Part of Kurt was excited and thrilled. Another part just wanted to laugh hysterically.

Blaine didn’t seem to think this was at all odd, though. As soon as they stepped out of the bakery, he was already on the phone calling their top two venues for an appointment, and five minutes later, they were whizzing to the New York Public Library in a cab.

Whatever qualms Kurt had all flew out of his head the moment he climbed the steps to the library and went in.

What a place! He loved EVERYTHING about it. The ceilings, the lighting, the staircases, the atmosphere. It was all phenomenal. More importantly, it felt right for them. Kurt could totally picture Blaine standing there at the front in a gorgeous black tux, and looking at Kurt like he’d hung the moon and the stars in the sky. He could picture his friends and family sitting here, and he even knew what decorations he wanted. Yes, if they really did get married, this was the place where it would happen.

Blaine smiled at Kurt when he voiced his thoughts, and without any more ado, he went to the front desk to book the venue for the fourteenth of July.

Kurt had the feeling that whatever he’d want for their wedding, he would only have to snap his fingers and Blaine would make it happen, like a genie from a lamp. Only, it had to be Blaine’s dream wedding, too, so he told Blaine he’d be quite happy to check out the Bowery Ballroom too. Kurt had lost his heart to the Library, but if Blaine preferred Bowery, well, marriage was about compromise, wasn’t it?

Blaine chuckled at the way Kurt stumbled over his sentences in his eagerness to prove to Blaine that this didn’t have to be all Kurt’s choice, and just shook his head. “I’ll cancel the appointment at the Bowery Ballroom, beautiful. It’s not a problem at all. I love the Library too.”

Even though they’d eaten a lot of cake, the both of them were hungry again, and they decided on Thai takeout before the poodles’ evening walk. This time, Kurt insisted on paying, telling Blaine he’d spent quite enough money for one day.

When they went to bed, Blaine apologised, apparently under the impression that their first date had been a disappointment for Kurt.

Kurt was quick to set him right, with words and with kisses. This time, he was on top of Blaine, and he took advantage of his position to nibble at Blaine’s neck and suck a hickey on his collar bone. That made Blaine gasp and writhe and buck up as if he couldn’t help himself, and Kurt moaned when that caused delicious friction.

The next thing Kurt knew, Blaine had grabbed his butt, and they were rutting together as people possessed.

It took him only minutes to come so hard he saw stars. He kept moving until Blaine froze, gripped Kurt’s ass more tightly still and moaned high and long.

Then Kurt flopped off Blaine’s chest and turned on his side facing Blaine.

Kurt smiled and gave Blaine a bunny kiss. “Hey.”

Blaine’s answering smile was a bit loopy. “Hey.”

“That was not how I’d expected my first time to go,” Kurt giggled, and wrinkled his nose. “Coming in my pants like I’m fifteen again. Gross.”

Blaine’s smile fell off his face in an instant, and Kurt could see a new apology coming.

“But it was perfect,” Kurt stressed, before Blaine could speak. “It was perfect, because I got to share this with you.”

He cupped Blaine’s face and kissed him again.

“Next time, we’ll just have to remember to lose the clothes before we have sex, okay?”

Blaine nodded. “Okay.”

Kurt yawned. “Quick clean-up? I’ll bring you another pair of boxers.”

Kurt slipped out of bed to fetch a wash cloth, new pyjama pants for himself and boxers for Blaine.

“Hips up,” he commanded when he came back, and he stripped Blaine quickly of the soiled boxers and cleaned him up. That made Blaine’s dick twitch.

“Ready for another go?” Kurt laughed. “Maybe we’ve really become teenagers again!”

Kurt gave Blaine’s dick a few experimental tugs, and smirked when that made it swell up.

“You too,” Blaine commanded. “Pants off.”

Kurt kicked off his pants and tried not to feel self-conscious as Blaine’s eyes roved over him.

“Gorgeous,” Blaine breathed. “You’re so gorgeous.”

Kurt felt his face heat up, and looked away, but Blaine hooked a finger under his chin and turned his head to face Blaine again. “Don’t go shy on me, beautiful. You’re gorgeous, every inch of you.”

Blaine’s eyes shifted down, and he asked, “Can I…?”

Now Kurt’s cock twitched too, and they both laughed. Kurt quickly grabbed his lube from the nightstand and squirted some onto his own hand and then on Blaine’s.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Together?”

As soon as Kurt felt Blaine wrap his hand around him, he knew this wouldn’t last long at all. It just felt too good. He tightened his hold on Blaine’s dick, and heard him whimper and moan. He chanced a glance at Blaine’s face, and felt a wave of affection go through him when he saw Blaine’s blissed-out expression. His eyes were closed, his lashes nestled against his cheeks and fluttering the tiniest bit, and he was smiling slightly.

Kurt let his eyes wander. He’d seen Blaine naked before, of course, but back then, he’d made an effort to look away and not stare. Now, he did stare. He lingered on Blaine’s strong shoulders and arms, his tiny waist, the little belly that was somehow more attractive than a six-pack would have been, his powerful thighs and pretty ankles. But most of all, he focused on the dick his hand was working over – rock hard under the velvety soft skin, with a glistening wet top that produced more and more precome the longer Kurt slid his fist up and down over it.

Meanwhile, Kurt was teetering on the brink himself with every move Blaine’s hand made, and little moans escaped him every time the upper fingers passed the rim of his cock head and sent a sensation through him that was nothing short of electric. It made him increase his own pace, until his fist was a blur over Blaine’s dick and Blaine’s stomach tensed up. And then Blaine’s hand made a twisting move, and Kurt was coming, coming, coming.

When the waves of pleasure ebbed, he realised he was gripping Blaine’s dick way too hard. He loosened his hold a little, and felt warm wetness dribbling over his fist.

“That was amazing,” Blaine sighed.

Kurt looked at him. “You… You came too?”

Blaine giggled. “Just after you did. You look so hot when you come. I just…”

“Next time, we’re taking turns,” Kurt declared. “I want to see you fall apart, too.”

Blaine grinned at him. “Okay.”

“But that will be for tomorrow. I’m so – YAWN – tiiiired!”

They went to the bathroom to wash their hands, and Kurt wet another washcloth to wipe their dicks and bellies clean.

Kurt yawned again, his jaw cracking, and Blaine steered him back to bed and took him in his arms. “Sleep, beautiful.”

“Sweet dreams, honey.”

K&B

Kurt slept like a rock after that, right through his alarm, and when he finally woke up, he found that Blaine had already taken the dogs on their morning walk and was now sitting at the foot of the bed, fully dressed.

Blaine smiled at Kurt and held out a mug of coffee.

Kurt sipped from it, and then drank more deeply, his brain becoming more alert the more caffeine hit his blood stream.

“Why didn’t you just wake me up?” Kurt asked, blinking and squinting at the too bright sunlight.

“You were sleeping so peacefully. Like an angel, beautiful. I couldn’t bear disturbing you.”

Kurt scoffed, and then his eyes widened and he grabbed Blaine’s arm. “Oh! You didn’t forget about Snowball and Summer and Titus, did you?”

Blaine grinned and shook his head. “All taken care of.”

Kurt sighed in relief. “Good. Good. Wow I… I haven’t slept this late in years. Even in Ohio, I get up at seven thirty. Eight a.m., tops. We need to get into bed earlier.”

Blaine grinned. “Sure, beautiful.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “To sleep, I mean!”

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

Now Blaine was full-out smirking, and not so subtly staring at Kurt’s cock, which was, yes, hard again. Hello, morning wood.

Kurt drained his coffee mug and ran to the bathroom to relieve himself and brush his teeth. When he came back, he hugged Blaine from behind, hooked a finger under Blaine’s bow tie and tugged, whispering into Blaine’s ear, “Somebody’s wearing way too many clothes.”

Blaine’s breath hitched for a moment. Then, he turned around in Kurt’s arms, his lashes low and his voice dark caramel. “Maybe this is your next gift, waiting for you to unwrap it. There’s a bow and everything.”

“Mmm, yes, there is,” Kurt purred, and he deftly undid the knot. He made quite a production of undressing Blaine, running his hands all over his chest and back and making sure to rub over his nipples until they stood at attention. When Blaine was naked from the waist up, Kurt kneeled to pay just as much attention to Blaine’s legs while opening his belt and unbuttoning his pants, teasing him by rubbing over his inner thighs with his thumbs until Blaine started breathing faster and then groaned, “Kuuuuuurt!”

“What is it, honey? I’m just being careful with the package.”

Blaine snorted. “The package is about to explode, so you’d better hurry up and get me naked or I’m going to come in my pants again.”

Kurt conceded the point and took Blaine’s pants and boxers off without any more teasing.

“Lie down,” he commanded, and Blaine obediently flopped down on the bed, grinning up at Kurt.

“Can I… Can I use my mouth on you?” Kurt asked, and watched Blaine’s eyes widen and darken.

“Yes. Of course.”

Blaine was nodding like a bobble-head now, and Kurt giggled as he took Blaine’s dick in his hand and then bowed down to fit his mouth over it.

Blaine let out a strangled sound that made Kurt slide his mouth off his cock and look up again. “Yeah, I know I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to do. Just… Tell me what feels good and what doesn’t, okay? Tell me.”

“No, no… That… You… It was just… Guh… That felt so good!”

“Ah. Okay. So much the better. Still. Tell me. Here I go again.”

And once more, Kurt sank his mouth over Blaine’s dick.

Blaine started babbling, his voice higher than its usual pitch. “Oh, yes. Oh, God. Oh, wow. Beautiful, your mouth. So good. I don’t…. This is… not gonna last. Like… not at all. Oh, do that again! Please? With your tongue? Ah!! Yes! Ahh! That feels… Oh my God. Kurt. Kurt! Kuuuuuuurt!”

And with that, spurts of come filled Kurt’s mouth. So much of it that he couldn’t swallow it all and some dripped down his chin.

Before he could get self-conscious about that, though, Blaine had cupped his face in both hands and was licking it off and then kissing Kurt, wild, dirty kisses that made his pulse race and left him a little light-headed.

“Your turn now,” Blaine announced, and pushed Kurt onto the bed. As his mouth slid over Kurt’s cock, Kurt had only one thought.

Best Sunday morning EVER.

#klaine fanfiction #my fic #smut warning #puppy eyes #chapter 19

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silver-wolf-karma · 7 years

Text

Comfort in the Years

Fluffy FACE Family!

@minxesti

You asked for some Fluffy FACE family and here it is.

I have no idea what the hell this is, honestly. I apologize.

They aren’t kids here they are teenish?

This is in Canada’s point of view, I’ve written something else sorta like this before (Here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8273341/1/Comfort ) where they are kids and it’s shitty. (Yes even shittier then this one!)

But a long while ago I started another one like it where Canada was older and I saw fluffy FACE and thought of this so I finished it really quick whoops.

It's kind of an extension from the older one except it can be read as a stand alone.

So Summary: Canada is afraid of thunder storms. But he can always rely on his family to come to his rescue. (In their own dorky ass way)

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

It was summer vacations, all the nations were taking a week off of work stress to have some fun and see friends and family, which meant that I was in England at Arthur’s house.

I liked Arthur’s house, though it was much quieter than my house.

Alfred was lounging across the couch reading a comic book. Arthur was sipping at some tea while reading the newspaper as Francis cleaned up after supper. As for me, well I was sitting on the window seat sketching Arthur’s garden.

It might seem odd to most people that we weren’t interacting much, considering that we didn’t get to see each other much due to our busy work schedules but at this moment everyone in the family was quite content and happy. We didn’t need to talk or interact to know that we were together.

Arthur makes a tsk noise and breaks the silence when we look at him, “There was an attack in Belgium. 7 dead.”

“Another?” Alfred asks frowning, pushing up his glasses.

“So it seems.” Arthur nods.

“That poor girl, we should send her something.” Francis says as he walks to the kitchen door drying his hands.

“She likes Tulips.” I hum and they all look at me.

“Perhaps some flowers, tea, and candy.” Arthurs agrees.

“And a fluffy blanket.” I smile. She loves fluffy blankets.

“That sounds quite nice, we’ll put it together tomorrow.” Francis says.

“But for now, it’s bed time. It’s been a long day.” Arthur states rising from his rocking chair.

“Awe, come on pops, it’s only 11! You’re too old man.” Alfred wines like the baby he is.

I stretch as I get up and bring down my sketch book on Alfred’s head. He yelps and glares at me as I grin mischievously.

“Come on Al, don’t be so hard on Dad. He obviously wants some alone time with Papa.”

In tandem Alfred yells Ew, as England Sputters, and Francis laughs.

I grin and head towards the stairs only to have Alfred wiz past me, “I get first dibs on the Bathroom, Mattie!”

“NO! You take too long! You’re like a girl!” I screech as I chase after him only to have him slam the door in my face.

I huff and rolls my eyes.

“Baby!” I yell.

He laughs at me through the door and I head into my room. I set my sketch book down and change into my pajamas.

Lifting Kuma up and setting him onto my bed and pulling the covers back.

I text Providences a quick goodnight message before going and using Arthur’s master bathroom where I brush my teeth.

Arthur walks into his bed room and pops his head in, raising his eyebrow at me.

I grin and spit into the sink, “Alfred is hogging our old bathroom.”

“You too haven’t grown at all have you?”

“Probably not.” I grin and shoo him out so I can pee.

I walk out of the bathroom to see him now sitting on his bed reading.

I walk over and kiss his temple and his smiles at me.

“Good night, dad.”

“Good night, Matthew.”

I head out only to walk into Francis who was outside Arthur’s door. I kiss his cheek, “He’s reading Pride and Prejudice, good luck!”

He laughs as me and ruffles my hair. “Goodnight, Matthieu.”

“Goodnight, Papa.”

I laugh as I walk to my room only to see Alfred swing open the bathroom door.

“Geez, about time.” I huff smirking.

“Dude, were you waiting out here the entire time?”

“No, I left when I heard grunting. Are you okay? Should I get you Prunes for Christmas?”

He sputters as his face turns red as I laugh at him.

“You’re such a prick.”

“I learned from the best.”

We high five and head to our respective rooms.

“Night Al!”

“Night Mattie!”

I shut my door and go plop down on my bed.

I turn on some soft music and read a bit before I fall off to sleep cuddling Kuma.

A few hours later something wakes me up.

I stir and my eyes adjust to the dark, I squint at my clock and the hazy letters seem slightly more readable.

I think it’s about 2:56. Or is that an 8? No, it’s a 6…

I look around the room trying to figure out why I was awake only to hear a slight rumble.

I glance out the window and see a storm brewing... And fear sets in. No matter how much times passes I could not stand storms. When I was in my own country I either got up and would go to a nearby café and order pancakes or my provinces would invade my house.

Lightning flashes coating the room.... thunder rolls... it’s going to get louder I just know...

After a particularly loud crack, I flinch squeezing Kuma who whines at me, and my door creaks open.

I look up, “Hey... Mattie...” Al’s there in his night clothes and has a pillow.

He crosses the room and sits on my bed... I glance up at him.

“Mind if I stay here tonight?” Alfred asks quietly

“Why?” I hum crinkling my nose.

“I know you hate storms... so I figured I might come in like when we were kids....” he states blushing slightly as he grins at me. “You know, be your hero and all!”

I nod slowly and grin, “Were you up watching horror movies?”

His face flushes and he stutters, “N-No! I was not! I was just trying to be a good big brother and protect you! This has nothing to do with the fact that I think my room might be haunted.”

I laugh and he smacks me.

“Sorry! Sorry! You can stay, I just it’s beneficial for us both.”

He grins and crawls under the covers with me.

“G’Night Mattie.” He hums hugging me tightly around my waist.

“Night Al.” I laugh making him loosen his arms so he isn’t strangling me before snuggling into my pillow.

Alfred soon falls asleep and twists a bit and I end up smack against his chest, him snoring loudly in my ear and his one arm around my waist his other over my shoulder with his hand resting on my face.

I huff irritably but can’t help but laugh at the dork.

I twist to get my back to him and brush his hand off my face and grab earphones for music to drown out his snoring, Kuma helps by resting his head on my shoulder and giving Al his butt and a mouthful of fur, before contently drifting into a light sleep, storm forgotten.

I don’t know how long has passed but I wake up to Alfred screaming bloody murder.

I jolt from surprise and Alfred falls off the bed screaming about a haunted book.

Arthur and Francis burst into the room. “What’s going on!?” Francis is in his boxers... French boxers with roses on them... some green face cream on his face towel wrapped around his head and he’s holding a vase as a weapon and Arthur has no shirt revealing his scars and has on long pj pants with fairies and green flying bunny slippers with a baseball bat in hand....

My brain stops....

I sputter out laughter... I just can’t help it I laugh so hard I fall backwards out of bed landing by Alfred and clutching my tummy laughing on hysterics.

Everyone stares oddly at me.

“What the bloody hell is going on and Matthew what the hell is so damn funny!”

“You two! Francis why are you holding a vase?” I laugh

“It was for a weapon! I thought someone was in here!” Francis yells face heating with blush

“Oh! Trust me, you wouldn’t need a weapon! Those outfits would make the perpetrator die... from laughter!” I crack up laughing again, both start blushing, “It’s a wonder that your marriage has survived because how either one of you can be turned on looking like that is way beyond me!” I crack up harder. "Or maybe that's why it survived! To ensure its kept a secret and no one else ever sees!"

Arthur takes off his winged bunny slippers and chucks one at me, it hits my face then lands in my lap... I look at it seeing it has a smile and is totally detailed and I just burst out laughing harder. Alfred cracks up too...

“Dude! Bunny shoes? Really? And Francis what the fuck is on your face! HAHAHA!!!” Alfred laughs hysterically and Arthur blushes more and a bunny shoe smacks Al’s face, “Ah! Child abuse!” he yells jokingly.

“Will you two stop laughing and explain the bloody screaming? And Alfred why are you in here?” Arthur asks frowning but his face is beat red...

“Alfred remembered my storm anxiety and came in to sleep here, as for the screaming...” I shrug, “I was asleep when Alfred suddenly was screaming which caused me to wake screaming and he started scream something about a book? Or something?”

“Oh! Right! OUR HOUSE IS HAUNTED!!!” Alfred yells

“What?” they ask

“I saw a book floating! Over there!”

Everyone looks to where he points... The ground was spotless, nothing was there.

“Nothing is there Alfred...” Arthur states and sighs...

“He probably dreamt it and woke up mid thought and believed he really saw it but it was only imagined... either that or he’s hallucinating...” I giggle

“No! I swear there was a floating book!!!”

Everyone looks at Alfred...

He pauses... “Or maybe I was seeing things...”

I giggle as Francis and Arthur groan annoyed for being disturbed.

“Well! Bad news is that Alfred might be going crazy! Other bad news this woke the entire house. Other other bad news is that Alfred is probably watching too many horror movies for his own good, and for our sanity and patience levels. Good news, I feel soooo much better!” I start laughing again.

Both Arthur and Francis roll their eyes but smiles play at their lips.

“Well, I’m happy this is amusing to you.” Arthur says sarcastically, “Now, I’m happy you are feeling better but back to bed now and if this is ever spoken of-“ he references his clothing and Francis’s clothing, “I will embarrass you both so bad in front of your friends and other nations you’ll regret it!”

Alfred cracks up, “You got nothing on us!”

“Hm? Nothing? Very well, Mr. Super Hero who wetted the bed until he was 11.” Arthur smirks

Alfred sputters choking wide eyed. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh, I would!” Arthur cackles and Francis sputters with laughter at the ridiculousness of it all.

“You boys have nothing on me. I don’t get embarrassed by past details and I never wetted the bed.”

Arthur hums thinking... “What about the time you were jamming out to the sex pistols while cleaning while singing into a feather duster?”

“I was 9! And I love that story! I told Feliks and a bunch of my other friends about it. It sure gets a laugh.” I grin, “I’m an open book boys!~ I can’t be embarrassed!!”

“What about your crush on Gilbert when you were young?”

I sputter, “Awe come on that isn’t fair!”

They all laugh at me.

I huff pouting.

“Why don’t we all go downstairs, seeing as how it’s already after 5am, and discuss how our poor Matthieu can go about getting a date.” Francis sings.

“W-What?! I don’t need a date!”

“Dude, you so need to get laid.” Al laughs punching my arm

“Ugh, I don’t want to hear about this from my sons!” Arthur huffs.

“Come one Iggy, even after all this time you’re still a stick in the mud. It’s a wonder you get any at all, Mattie this is what you’ll turn into if you don’t get any.” Al laughs

“Please boy, I get more than you!” Arthur snorts

“What?! No way!”

“Oh my god, just stop. Please.” I groan

“Ohonhonhonhon!~”

Yeah, perhaps we haven’t grown at all…. But it certainly made family dynamics interesting.

#hetalia #prompt #writing prompt #fluffy #face family #canada #america #england #france #aph #dorky #wolf writes #I'm sorry #this is weird

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