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mrsackermannx · 10 months

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Lourdes, I need more of your delicious Geto thoughts-

Do you think he would be secretive about your relationship or enjoy pda? Also how would he feel about others trying to flirt with you? What are some of the things he likes to do to let others know you’re his?

what it’s like dating geto suguru <3

tags: sfw, kissing, pda (slightly suggestive).

an: JAZZ YES LETS GO! this isn’t even all of it🤭

I think it’s subtle but not secretive at all, like when people look at you two for longer than a few seconds the love is so intense and unwavering it’s ridiculously obvious and hard to look away because of how in sync you two are. He’s smitten and I don’t think he hides it at all, it shows in his pda in fact! His pda to me is very much, hugs from behind with sweet kisses to your temple/cheekbone/cheek and or the corner of your mouth, he also does that thing where he loops your scarf around your neck and pulls you close with it so he can kiss your lips/forehead. You’re always coiled together somehow, like he loves where you sit with your back against his chest so he can put his chin on your head, hands resting on your thighs (his hair smells amazing🤭). He’s quite clingy really, his hair is always tickling you and falling around you in long silky curtains because he’s always wrapped around you, he’s so broad and his embrace feels so safe. He always smells so ridiculously good too, like vanilla and something a little oaky. But also like fresh soap ALL THE TIME.

As far as others, I think he gets playfully jealous because they’d never be any reason for you to look elsewhere😌. He knows this. But I think if people were flirting too obviously, he’d walk over, loop an arm around your waist and be like, “hey, beautiful, ready to go home?” all smirking, tucking his hair behind his ear before ducking to give you a sweet kiss. I do also think he’d be kind of outrageous sometimes if he’d had a few drinks; he’d walk over and hug you from behind, a hand sliding up to rest just under your breasts in the centre. You’re all like, “suguru! stop! ah, sorry this is my partner!” whilst giggling into his touch, your body is as much his as it is yours. Your cheeks heat as he maintains eye contact with the person flirting with you as he kisses along the curve of your neck until he reaches your ear to whisper a silky, “mm, let’s go home.”

Things he likes to do to let others know is definitely that you guys have subtle matching things, like scarves, earrings, necklaces especially! Like a simple silver necklace that matches and hangs from each of your necks, I think he likes to hold hands too, and carry all your bags. His phone background is either deffo one of you in a robe on one of your spa getaways together, glass in hand, his large hand smushing both of your cheeks whilst you laugh, or it’s you all dolled up sat opposite him in a restaurant, with your eyes half-lidded, looking at him with all the love in the world. People are always shocked when they see it, but he’s so quiet and gentle, that it’s not unexpected. He smiles proudly as he says, “that’s my fiancé/partner. I know, she’s absolutely beautiful.”

He also loves to pick you up from work, flustering everybody because he always whispers in your ear, and you always look so flustered, that or your attention is immediately captivated by him. (He brings flowers sometimes too, or food- your favourites). You can’t take your eyes of one another. Loving Suguru is intense, quietly intense. Sometimes you can barely be apart, because he feels like home too much, so calm, so soft. And his arms feel like home. Hugging you hello with his hand cupping your head as he whispers a soft, “Okaeri” (welcome home)

Geto overall as a partner. He dotes on you, rubbing your hands when it’s cold out, wrapping your scarf around you, holding your umbrella, always gazing at you with so much love. Always smiling when he asks, “I didn’t ask what you’d eaten, I asked if it was something you enjoyed?” When you tell him no, especially because you didn’t eat with him, he’s leaning over for a kiss. “Then let’s go to your favourite place for dinner.” This man knows everything and anything about you, and you to him. He loves long deep conversations about everything from your childhood, to your first friendships, your family, your deepest desires, fears, he commits every day in how he loves you, treasures you, continues to learn you. “Arguments” with him don’t even last more than an hour, he never raises his voice either, he’s an amazing communicator, always calm, always making you feel heard, they happen so rarely because you talk about everything and you know you’re in it for life. Being with Geto feels the most like being yourself because you can just be, and he can just be, you love each other unconditionally.

#i popped off here jazz #i couldnt help myself #i just adore him so much #boyfriend geto #geto thoughts #geto suguru #moots<3 #sighs dreamily #put my entire pussy into this for you jazz <3 #i always imagine falling in love with Geto in the winter #wearing warm sweaters and cuddling whilst watching movies with the Christmas tree up #wearing long trench coats and big scarves as you walk home a little tipsy together on new years <3 #hot chocolate after a long day <3 #having a hot bubble bath together after a long and chilly week #I ADORE GETO ACTUALLY #don’t even get me started on the sex jazz #don’t you DARE🤭🤭 *bats lashes*

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carewyncromwell · 1 year

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“Goodbye...goodbye... Now it's just me and my little guy. And the house felt so big...and I felt so small... The house felt so big...and I felt so small.”

~“So Big / So Small” from Dear Evan Hansen

x~x~x~x

inspired by a conversation with @drinkyoursoupbitch

x~x~x~x

Lane woke up alone that following morning. Evan had left the house after the argument, and she didn’t see him again before she went to bed that night. Despite this, she didn’t panic -- she’d heard him come home, even if he didn’t come upstairs, so she’d assumed he was still angry and upset enough that he’d decided to hole up in his office for a night. Goodness knows he’d spent a couple of all-nighters in his office for work in the past...

This thought process went out the window, though, when Lane came downstairs. First she noticed all the lights were off and there was no sound of movement -- strange, since Evan was usually such an early riser. Then she noticed that one of the paintings on their wall -- a wedding gift Evan had received from his great-uncle -- was no longer hung up near the kitchen. Then she reached Evan’s office, the door of which had actually been left slightly ajar, rather than shut up as usual...and when she turned on the light, she felt like she’d been shot right through the heart.

It was empty. Completely empty, not just of Evan, but of everything. His desk and file drawers -- his bookcases and bright blue rolling chair -- his framed pictures and certificates of merit from work -- all of the little knickknacks that had trimmed every surface and wall, from the tiny model cars and antique glass soda bottles to the set of Elvis Presley Collector’s Plates...it was gone. All of it was gone.

And as Lane shakily backed out of the office and dashed over to the kitchen, then to the dining room, and then through to the living room, only to find even more drawers pulled out and emptied and even more rooms stripped of certain art pieces, photographs, and select furniture pieces, the realization began to crystallize like chilling, numbing, horrified ice around her mind and heart.

It wasn’t just the stuff Evan was most emotionally attached to that was gone. He was too.

She’d driven him away. The revelation that she was a witch -- that Jacob also had magic, and Carewyn undoubtedly did as well -- had driven him away...the only man Lane had ever loved, who she’d run away from home for, who had given her a reason to break away from the miserable life she’d had at the Cromwell estate -- the man through which she’d fallen in love with the Muggle World, all of its amazing technology and music and art and history, and the freedom it had afforded her for so long...

Evan Bach was gone.

By the time Lane had teetered back to the entrance hall, she was barely able to stand. Although she attempted to grab hold of the stair banister to stay on her feet, it proved too difficult -- she collapsed onto her knees on the rug at the base of the stairs, curled up in a ball on the floor like a child, and covered her face in both hands as she fell apart in silent sobs.

Lane lay curled up there at the base of the stairs alone for close to an hour. It was only when Lane heard her son Jacob walking over to her daughter Carewyn’s room on the other side of the upstairs hallway that she snapped back to reality.

The blond-haired witch tentatively eased herself up, wincing slightly at the light pains in her shoulder, neck, and arm from lying on such a hard floor, and closed her eyes as she took several deep breaths. Then, wiping her face clean, she then turned her focus up onto the kitchen, her face devoid of any emotion.

She had to get breakfast on the table.

And so for the next half-hour, Lane went through the motions. She poured out milk and orange juice and cooked up the bangers and eggs, as usual -- at least cooking for three instead of four meant they wouldn’t have to buy any more for at least a day more. Fresh fruit might be a bit too much to afford on the regular, though -- best conserve the bananas for another morning, when they’ve run out of bangers...

Lane heard Carewyn first, out in the entrance hall. The little almost-three-year-old had been mumbling something Lane couldn’t quite make out -- talking to Jacob, undoubtedly. She’d always loved talking to her brother, even before she could talk properly. It had been background noise at first, until Lane caught the sound of Jacob whispering back to her.

“I know, Pip. But if we’re sad, it’ll only make Mum sadder...”

Lane straightened up sharply, looking back over her shoulder toward the empty kitchen door frame that led to the entrance hall.

“It’s just the three of us now,” said Jacob’s voice, “so it’s you and me that’s gotta look after Mum, from now on. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Carewyn’s voice came out as a sweet, but determined little chirp.

Lane turned back toward the eggs frying in the pan on the stove. As she stared down at them, she felt her eyes flooding with fresh tears again, even as she tried to detach herself from the painful numbness pulsing through her.

She’d been going through it in her head, what she’d planned to tell Jacob. She’d been logically hashing it out -- planning to pull him aside and talk to him separately, before explaining it much more simply to Carewyn. But all of that had been predicated on Jacob being angry and upset -- of her having to be the level head and the calm influence -- to hold him tightly until he stopped crying. But instead, here Jacob was, responding to the knowledge that his father had abandoned them by playing the part of the responsible big brother and son...thinking of Lane’s feelings first. Even though Jacob normally had so much trouble putting himself in other people’s shoes, he knew his mother well enough to know how hard Evan’s departure would be for her and how much more pain she’d feel, seeing him and Carewyn upset too. And so this boy -- at only eleven years old -- had put on the mantle of a mature, responsible adult, all in an attempt to show his mother solidarity.

Instead of being comforted by this, however, Lane found herself feeling colder than ever.

She’d always tried so hard to make sure her children knew how much she loved them. After having grown up in a home so devoid of love as the Cromwell estate, Lane had learned how to truly love and be loved through raising her children. She had always cherished Jacob and Carewyn more than anything in the world, and she wanted them to know how important they were, especially to her, every moment of every day.

And yet even with this, Lane knew she’d failed them, as a mother. She’d always tried so hard to mend the divide between Jacob and Evan, to no avail -- and yes, although part of that was because she couldn’t tell either of them about Jacob’s magical talent, Lane had always felt ill-equipped to handle their fights anyway. If she took Jacob’s side, then Evan felt like Lane was making him out to be “the bad guy” and turning Jacob further against him -- if she sided with Evan, Jacob felt even more alone and misunderstood than ever and would act out even more, to vent his frustrations. And so there were more than a few times Lane had just let the fight fizzle out and then try to talk to them separately when they were calmer, rather than stand between them or shut things down before things got out of hand. Lane had never been good around anger -- she’d always learned to shut any hurt or angry feelings down inside of herself, since her parents had always reacted with such displeasure in response to them. But Jacob’s anger hadn’t been unjustified. Neither had a lot of Evan’s. Yet in both cases, Lane just couldn’t cope with them when they were angry. In Evan’s case, it let him railroad her during fights, the way her brother Blaise and sister Pearl used to. But in Jacob’s...well, it seemed that, even though Lane had always wanted Jacob to feel free enough to express himself, he’d still learned to bottle up his pain and soldier through...just like she had...

As for Carewyn...Evan had just about never paid much mind to her. He’d completely plugged out of her upbringing, leaving it solely in Lane’s hands, out of the frustration and shame of being unable to be the father he’d wanted so desperately to be for Jacob. Part of Lane had selfishly enjoyed this, since she adored Carewyn just as much as she did Jacob, and just as much as Jacob adored Carewyn himself. Lane relished getting a front row seat to all of Carewyn’s little achievements -- eating solid foods for the first time, learning how to talk and walk -- her first birthday, her first Christmas -- seeing her react to one of her father’s Elvis records -- seeing how much Carewyn radiated with love for her and Jacob and somehow seemed to understand their feelings on a deeper level than most adults could, even when she was still barely speaking full sentences. Carewyn truly was a remarkable child, and Lane was so proud not only of her, but of how much Jacob had come into his own, just being her older brother. Jacob had been rather sullen and lonely, when he was young -- he’d felt like an outsider among his peers at school, and his teachers and his own father constantly haranguing him for misbehaviors he didn’t do on purpose couldn’t have helped matters. But once Carewyn was born, a new light had sparked to life behind Jacob’s eyes. It was a light Lane knew very well, for it was a light she herself had first experienced, through Jacob and Carewyn: it was the light of feeling truly understood -- of being the subject of truly unconditional, empowering love.

And yet despite all this, Evan had never seen how wonderful Carewyn was. Truly, he had never known her at all. Why else would he have had no clue that Carewyn was just as magical and special as her brother was? Why else would he have the audacity to think that if Carewyn was simply separated from Lane and Jacob, she might turn out “normally,” like him?

The memory of that final argument filled Lane up with a rage that scared her so much that she snatched the pan of eggs off the burner and moved it to the other side of the stove, since she didn’t trust herself to turn off the stove without breaking the switch.

Lane had hoarded Carewyn to herself -- she knew this. Her and Evan’s marriage had been falling apart slowly, but Lane contented herself by throwing herself into mothering Carewyn and Jacob -- of enjoying all of their wonderful milestones and moments all by herself, even if it meant Evan wasn’t included. It was his choice that he wasn’t involving himself, after all -- she’d tried a few times to get him involved: it wasn’t her fault that he eventually always plugged back out...

And yet, logically, Lane knew it still was her fault, at least in part. She hadn’t always been the best wife to Evan, in helping him weather the emotional storm he’d been in...and she certainly hadn’t been the best mother to Carewyn and Jacob, if they were now responding to Evan’s departure not with sadness and grief, as she was...but stoicism.

She’d wanted her children to feel free to come to her with their problems. She’d wanted them to never feel like she would demean their feelings or make them feel insignificant. But now...Jacob and Carewyn were taking on the role of parent and trying to take care of her.

The knowledge flooded Lane’s heart with so much love for her children that it was breaking.

After a long, long moment, Lane finally felt enough in control of herself that she turned off the stove’s burner properly and served the eggs onto the plates she had on the counter.

“Jay,” she called with as strong of a voice as she could muster, “Winnie...it’s time for breakfast.”

The soft-spoken call was miraculously loud enough for Jacob and Carewyn to pick out -- both of them had been almost trained to listen for their mother’s soft voice. And so about ten seconds later, Jacob came into the kitchen, carrying Carewyn on his back.

“G’morning, Mum,” Jacob said with a slightly forced attempt at a smile.

The toddler, at the sight of her mother, began to squirm. Jacob put her down, and Carewyn toddled right over to Lane, throwing her arms around her knees and squeezing.

“Mum?” she said.

“Yes, sweetheart?” asked Lane.

“I have a...I have a song for you,” she mumbled.

Lane raised her eyebrows as she took both of Carewyn’s hands and bent down to get on her level. “A song?”

Carewyn nodded without raising her head. “Mm-hmm. Jacob says I gotta be Pippa Passes, so...I gotta...have a song for you.”

Lane looked up at Jacob, who tried again to force that strained smile back on his face.

Her own face crinkling up with a weak smile of her own, Lane returned her gaze to Carewyn.

“...Go ahead, sweetie."

Her gaze staying on her mother’s hands holding hers instead of Lane’s face, Carewyn took a deep breath and sang in very fragmented lines --

“When the night...has come...and the land is dark... And the mooooon...is the only...light we'll see-ee... No, I won't be afraid! No, I won't be afraid! Just as loooong...as you stand...stand by me.”

This was all Carewyn knew of the song, so when she was done, she stopped abruptly, her eyes flickering hesitantly up to her mother’s face for approval.

Her eyes softening around the fresh line of tears trimming the bottom lids, Lane brought a hand through her daughter’s ginger bangs fondly.

“That was beautiful, Winnie,” she said very softly. “Thank you.”

She kissed her daughter’s forehead, her hand trailing though her hair, before straightening up to look at Jacob, whose sad smile was a bit more authentic now as he looked from Carewyn to Lane.

“Come on, then,” said Lane, her soft voice a bit stronger than before. “We have a full day ahead of us...may as well start it out right with a proper breakfast.”

x~x~x~x

The entire rest of the day involved Lane telling Jacob and Carewyn all about the Wizarding World. She explained how the Wizarding World was hidden and why, and about the Ministry of Magic and the Statute of Secrecy. She told them about the Trace and the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad that had kept Jacob’s magic underwraps while they lived in a Muggle neighborhood. She told them about Hogwarts and about all of the interesting classes it taught -- about Diagon Alley, and all the stores where they could get Jacob’s supplies. And of course, she took some time to explain why she herself had lived like a Muggle in the Muggle World so long -- not just because of her marriage to Evan, but because of her leaving her unhappy home life with her own parents and siblings.

Jacob asked many questions along the way, many of them eager and curious, but at one point, he actually interrupted Lane before she could answer one of the few questions Carewyn herself had decided to ask: “why did Dad leave?”

“Because he’s a no-good, heartless plonker,” Jacob said bitterly. “We’re better off without him.”

Lane’s eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. “Jay...”

“We are,” said Jacob. “It’s not like he cared about us even while he was here. He always shut himself up in his office and hid, rather than talk to us. I doubt he even knew Pip’s favorite color -- ”

“It’s blue, Jacob,” Carewyn reminded him amusedly.

“I know,” said Jacob with something of a smug smile, giving his sister a playful little side-hug.

Lane brought a hand onto Jacob’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Jay...I know you feel like your father didn’t care. But he worked very long hours, both at the store and here at home, to make sure we lived comfortably. He sacrificed a lot of his own dreams to give us a stable place to live, and he worked very hard to try to provide for us. I couldn’t have raised you and Carewyn here at home, if Evan hadn’t worked as hard as he did -- ”

“Well, now we won’t be his problem anymore, I guess,” said Jacob very coldly.

Lane’s eyes welled up with both reproval and sorrow. “Jay...”

Seemingly able to sense how unhappy her mother and brother both were, Carewyn shrank, her shoulders hunching and her eyes welling up with tears as she gave a loud sniff.

Jacob immediately brought his arms around Carewyn and pulled her into his lap in a tight hug, his blue eyes burning with resentment as he turned away.

“I don’t want to talk about him anymore,” Jacob said lowly.

And so they didn’t for the rest of the afternoon.

Lane didn’t broach the topic of Evan with Jacob again until after they’d put Carewyn to bed and Jacob and she came back downstairs to read in the living room.

Lane made a mug of hot chocolate and brought it out to Jacob, putting it down on a coaster on the side table next to him.

“Here,” she said gently. “I thought this might cheer you up.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

Jacob didn’t pick up the mug right away, though -- he was a bit too engrossed in his copy of The Once and Future King.

Lane watched her son’s face carefully as she settled herself down in the armchair next to Jacob on the couch. She considered her words carefully before speaking.

“...Jay...I know you’re angry at your father for leaving.”

Jacob didn’t respond. He turned a page in his book.

“You’re more than entitled to be,” Lane said earnestly. “I’m upset too. I’m very upset with him, that he left without a word...that he left you and Winnie with no explanation...”

She swallowed.

“...But you have to understand...what happened is just as much my fault as it is his -- ”

“Don’t say that!”

Jacob sharply put down his book.

“Mum, it was not your fault!” he said fiercely.

Lane’s face softened sadly. “In a way, it was. I wasn’t honest with your father about a lot of things...and well, I should’ve known that would cause problems for all of us, down the line...”

“But you had to keep those secrets, Mum,” argued Jacob. “You said that the Statute of Secrecy said that people can’t tell Muggles about the Wizarding World unless they have a kid that’s born with magic. You weren’t allowed to tell him the truth -- you couldn’t even tell me the truth!”

“Yes,” said Lane, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I still had to lie to someone who I love...and marriages aren’t meant to be built on lies. Evan has always been open with me about who he is, where he came from, and what his family was like. He’s always trusted me unconditionally with those parts of himself he never shared with anyone else. I never trusted him that same way...and he wasn’t wrong to feel hurt, about that.”

“I don’t care how hurt he was!” said Jacob petulantly.

He crossed his arms and turned away.

“I don’t care if he’s hurt! I don’t care if he’s upset...he’s a fat, ugly, heartless old prat, and I hope he never comes back! I hope he just falls off a cliff and dies!”

“Jay!” Lane said in both dismay and reproach.

Jacob hugged his arms around himself even more tightly and shifted down the couch a bit, away from the hot chocolate on the side table.

Her blue eyes softening with even more pain and sadness, Lane eased herself off of the armchair and down onto the floor. She then crawled over on her knees to her son, bringing a hand down onto his knee.

Jacob looked down at his mother, his eyes crinkling up with both shame and resentment.

“I saw him leave,” he muttered.

Lane was startled by this.

“I heard him moving the last of his things out downstairs. I got up to go look, and I saw two of his friends helping him carry his office chair out. He then came back to close the door and noticed me at the top of the stairs. He sort of just stood there and stared...then without saying anything, he closed the door and left.”

Lane felt like her heart was being squeezed as she stared up at Jacob. The eleven-year-old boy’s eyes narrowed.

“He didn’t even bother to say goodbye to you,” he said through bared teeth. “He wouldn’t even look you in the face. Instead, he just slipped in, grabbed some stuff, and left, like a no-good, rotten coward! All because he found out he was wrong about me, all that time -- that I wasn’t acting out just to cause trouble, that I wasn’t a bad kid like he always thought...”

Lane’s eyes widened. “Jay...”

“I don’t want you defending him!” Jacob burst out. “You’ve always loved us, and supported us, and he...he left us! He left us, and he hurt you, and -- and he’s never cared about us! He’s never cared about any of us -- especially Pip! He’s always acted like she doesn’t matter, like she doesn’t even exist! He never bothered to look at her without you making him -- never bothered to get to know her -- see how bloody brilliant she is...”

Jacob shut his eyes tight. His fists clenched at his sides.

“I hate him!” he spat. “He hurt you, and I hate him, and...and if he ever shows his face here again, I’ll kick his rotten arse.”

There was a tense silence. Jacob breathed in and out through his nose quietly like a dragon huffing smoke.

Lane found herself momentarily overwhelmed by her emotions. She turned away, covering her mouth with her hand and closing her eyes. She herself took several deep breaths. Then, finally, she turned back around to face her son. She gave his knee a light squeeze.

“Jay...your father did not leave because of you,” Lane said very softly.

Jacob looked down at her disbelievingly. “It’s because of my Hogwarts letter that you had to tell him everything.”

“That doesn’t mean that you having magic was what made your father angry,” Lane said very firmly. “It was my lying to him that made him upset -- it wasn’t you. It wasn’t any part of you.”

This wasn’t entirely true. Lane knew that Evan was upset at the thought that his wife and son could be completely out of his control and (in Jacob’s case) potentially immune to any discipline he could enact, but damned if she was going to let her son think what happened was in any way his fault...

Lane brought her hand on his knee up to run affectionately through his curly dark brown bangs.

“And even if your father couldn’t handle the truth about the Wizarding World and our place in it,” she said more softly, “even if he ultimately can’t join this new world with us...that is a failing on his part alone. Not yours.”

Lane brought a hand up to her son’s face, coaxing him to look her in the eye.

“And...even if I can’t give you everything your father could...even if things are going to get harder, and I won’t be able to do everything I’ve been able to do before on my own...”

She swallowed, putting on her bravest face even through the tears in her eyes.

“...Even though...I know there’ll be times where I’ll fall short...I promise you...I will work very, very hard for you and Winnie...and I’ll make sure you know you can count on me...just as much as I counted on your father, to keep us afloat.”

Jacob frowned deeply. His eyes fell down to the floor again.

“I know, Mum,” he mumbled. “...I’ve always known that.”

Her eyes softening with both pain and fondness Lane leaned up to kiss her son’s forehead, ruffling his hair lightly as she gave him a hug. Jacob himself threw his arms around his mother and squeezed her back in a vice grip, almost desperate to comfort her just as much as she tried to for him.

“You’re not like him, Mum,” he said very lowly. “...You’ve never been like him.”

Lane’s expression grew more somber. Adjusting her arms around him, she brought her head down to rest on top of Jacob’s.

Jacob was right -- she wasn’t like Evan. As much pain as she felt at this thought, considering how long and deeply she’d been in love with Evan, Lane knew it was true...for abandoning her precious bairns -- regardless of the reason -- was something she knew she would never do.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my fanfiction #jacob cromwell #lane cromwell #carewyn cromwell #evan bach #my writing #aesthetic #ah yes this was cathartic to write on a rainy day #lane may not be a perfect mother -- she definitely has her flaws #but she is an awesome mother in the way that she actively tries and loves her children so unconditionally #and even if jacob isn't fully able to accept how much lane failed him in some ways as a mother lane at least is more conscious of it #and she actively tries to be better #which is also great #it was fun to delve more into jacob and lane's mother-son relationship after how much I've done for jacob and carewyn as siblings #oh and yes jacob eventually did drink that hot chocolate #lane used her wand to warm it back up again before he drank it which made jacob stupidly giddy bc yay magic 8D #this song gives me such feels as well #don't listen to this song if you're a child of divorce without tissues

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