#adam being so prickly even when he looks like he's chill you can tell he's about to snap any second

[marc--chilton]

where are the fics where adam IS an apprentice but only kind of. he loathes john but has convinced himself that lawrence is safer when he's around. lawrence tries to tell him that he's more of a behind the scenes gear in this clock of bullshit but it doesn't work. the only way john can get adam to do something for him is through lawrence, and adam knows this, he just. doesn't care. lawrence asked, he's gonna do it, after that it's out of his hands. they're so reliant on each other being okay than if one isn't things get messy. just like last time

[zo2paintedlady]

LGBTQ+ Novels/Memoirs

Here is the book list from my LIS 618 class. The links will bring you to their Goodreads pages.

The 57 Bus by Dashka Slater (2017) *based on a true story* "One teenager in a skirt. One teenager with a lighter. One moment that changes both of their lives forever. If it weren't for the 57 bus, Sasha and Richard never would have met. Both were high school students from Oakland, California, one of the most diverse cities in the country, but they inhabited different worlds. Sasha, a white teen, lived in the middle-class foothills and attended a small private school. Richard, a black teen, lived in the crime-plagued flatlands and attended a large public one. Each day, their paths overlapped for a mere eight minutes. But one afternoon on the bus ride home from school, a single reckless act left Sasha severely burned, and Richard charged with two hate crimes and facing life imprisonment. The case garnered international attention, thrusting both teenagers into the spotlight."

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Saenz (2012) "Aristotle is an angry teen with a brother in prison. Dante is a know-it-all who has an unusual way of looking at the world. When the two meet at the swimming pool, they seem to have nothing in common. But as the loners start spending time together, they discover that they share a special friendship--the kind that changes lives and lasts a lifetime. And it is through this friendship that Ari and Dante will learn the most important truths about themselves and the kind of people they want to be."

The Art of Being Normal by Lisa Williamson (2016) "Two boys. Two secrets. David Piper has always been an outsider. His parents think he’s gay. The school bully thinks he’s a freak. Only his two best friends know the real truth – David wants to be a girl. On the first day at his new school Leo Denton has one goal – to be invisible. Attracting the attention of the most beautiful girl in year eleven is definitely not part of that plan. When Leo stands up for David in a fight, an unlikely friendship forms. But things are about to get messy. Because at Eden Park School secrets have a funny habit of not staying secret for long…"

Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender (2020) "Felix Love has never been in love—and, yes, he’s painfully aware of the irony. He desperately wants to know what it’s like and why it seems so easy for everyone but him to find someone. What’s worse is that, even though he is proud of his identity, Felix also secretly fears that he’s one marginalization too many—Black, queer, and transgender—to ever get his own happily-ever-after. When an anonymous student begins sending him transphobic messages—after publicly posting Felix’s deadname alongside images of him before he transitioned—Felix comes up with a plan for revenge. What he didn’t count on: his catfish scenario landing him in a quasi–love triangle...."

Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe (2019) "In 2014, Maia Kobabe, who uses e/em/eir pronouns, thought that a comic of reading statistics would be the last autobiographical comic e would ever write. At the time, it was the only thing e felt comfortable with strangers knowing about em. Now, Gender Queer is here. Maia's intensely cathartic autobiography charts eir journey of self-identity, which includes the mortification and confusion of adolescent crushes, grappling with how to come out to family and society, bonding with friends over erotic gay fanfiction, and facing the trauma of pap smears. Started as a way to explain to eir family what it means to be nonbinary and asexual, Gender Queer is more than a personal story: it is a useful and touching guide on gender identity--what it means and how to think about it--for advocates, friends, and humans everywhere."

I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver (2019) "When Ben De Backer comes out to their parents as nonbinary, they're thrown out of their house and forced to move in with their estranged older sister, Hannah, and her husband, Thomas, whom Ben has never even met. Struggling with an anxiety disorder compounded by their parents' rejection, they come out only to Hannah, Thomas, and their therapist and try to keep a low profile in a new school. But Ben's attempts to survive the last half of senior year unnoticed are thwarted when Nathan Allan, a funny and charismatic student, decides to take Ben under his wing. As Ben and Nathan's friendship grows, their feelings for each other begin to change, and what started as a disastrous turn of events looks like it might just be a chance to start a happier new life."

Little & Lion by Brandy Colbert (2017) "When Suzette comes home to Los Angeles from her boarding school in New England, she isn't sure if she'll ever want to go back. L.A. is where her friends and family are (along with her crush, Emil). And her stepbrother, Lionel, who has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, needs her emotional support. But as she settles into her old life, Suzette finds herself falling for someone new...the same girl her brother is in love with. When Lionel's disorder spirals out of control, Suzette is forced to confront her past mistakes and find a way to help her brother before he hurts himself--or worse."

The Music of What Happens by Bill Konigsberg (2019) "IMax: Chill. Sports. Video games. Gay and not a big deal, not to him, not to his mom, not to his buddies. And a secret: An encounter with an older kid that makes it hard to breathe, one that he doesn't want to think about, ever. Jordan: The opposite of chill. Poetry. His "wives" and the Chandler Mall. Never been kissed and searching for Mr. Right, who probably won't like him anyway. And a secret: A spiraling out of control mother, and the knowledge that he's the only one who can keep the family from falling apart. Throw in a rickety, 1980s-era food truck called Coq Au Vinny. Add in prickly pears, cloud eggs, and a murky idea of what's considered locally sourced and organic. Place it all in Mesa, Arizona, in June, where the temp regularly hits 114. And top it off with a touch of undeniable chemistry between utter opposites."

Odd One Out by Nic Stone (2018) "Courtney "Coop" Cooper Dumped. Again. And normally I wouldn't mind. But right now, my best friend and source of solace, Jupiter Sanchez, is ignoring me to text some girl.  Rae Evelyn Chin I assumed "new girl" would be synonymous with "pariah," but Jupiter and Courtney make me feel like I'm right where I belong. I also want to kiss him. And her. Which is . . . perplexing.  Jupiter Charity-Sanchez The only thing worse than losing the girl you love to a boy is losing her to your boy. That means losing him, too. I have to make a move. . . . One story. Three sides. No easy answers."

Ramona Blue by Julie Murphy (2017) "'Ramona was only five years old when Hurricane Katrina changed her life forever. Since then, it’s been Ramona and her family against the world. Standing over six feet tall with unmistakable blue hair, Ramona is sure of three things: she likes girls, she’s fiercely devoted to her family, and she knows she’s destined for something bigger than the trailer she calls home in Eulogy, Mississippi. But juggling multiple jobs, her flaky mom, and her well-meaning but ineffectual dad forces her to be the adult of the family. Now, with her sister, Hattie, pregnant, responsibility weighs more heavily than ever."

Rethinking Normal by Katie Rain Hill (2014) "Have you ever worried that you'd never be able to live up to your parents' expectations? Have you ever imagined that life would be better if you were just invisible? Have you ever thought you would do anything--anything--to make the teasing stop? Katie Hill had and it nearly tore her apart. Katie never felt comfortable in her own skin. She realized very young that a serious mistake had been made; she was a girl who had been born in the body of a boy. Suffocating under her peers' bullying and the mounting pressure to be "normal," Katie tried to take her life at the age of eight years old. After several other failed attempts, she finally understood that "Katie"--the girl trapped within her--was determined to live."

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera (2017) "On September 5, a little after midnight, Death-Cast calls Mateo Torrez and Rufus Emeterio to give them some bad news: They’re going to die today. Mateo and Rufus are total strangers, but, for different reasons, they’re both looking to make a new friend on their End Day. The good news: There’s an app for that. It’s called the Last Friend, and through it, Rufus and Mateo are about to meet up for one last great adventure—to live a lifetime in a single day."

Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan (2013) "New York Times bestselling author David Levithan tells the based-on-true-events story of Harry and Craig, two 17-year-olds who are about to take part in a 32-hour marathon of kissing to set a new Guinness World Record—all of which is narrated by a Greek Chorus of the generation of gay men lost to AIDS. While the two increasingly dehydrated and sleep-deprived boys are locking lips, they become a focal point in the lives of other teen boys dealing with languishing long-term relationships, coming out, navigating gender identity, and falling deeper into the digital rabbit hole of gay hookup sites—all while the kissing former couple tries to figure out their own feelings for each other."

We are the Ants by Shaun David Hutchinson (2016) "Henry Denton has spent years being periodically abducted by aliens. Then the aliens give him an ultimatum: The world will end in 144 days, and all Henry has to do to stop it is push a big red button. Only he isn’t sure he wants to. After all, life hasn’t been great for Henry. His mom is a struggling waitress held together by a thin layer of cigarette smoke. His brother is a jobless dropout who just knocked someone up. His grandmother is slowly losing herself to Alzheimer’s. And Henry is still dealing with the grief of his boyfriend’s suicide last year. Wiping the slate clean sounds like a pretty good choice to him. But Henry is a scientist first, and facing the question thoroughly and logically, he begins to look for pros and cons: in the bully who is his perpetual one-night stand, in the best friend who betrayed him, in the brilliant and mysterious boy who walked into the wrong class. Weighing the pain and the joy that surrounds him, Henry is left with the ultimate choice: push the button and save the planet and everyone on it…or let the world—and his pain—be destroyed forever."

You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson (2020) "Liz Lighty has always believed she's too black, too poor, too awkward to shine in her small, rich, prom-obsessed midwestern town. But it's okay -- Liz has a plan that will get her out of Campbell, Indiana, forever: attend the uber-elite Pennington College, play in their world-famous orchestra, and become a doctor. But when the financial aid she was counting on unexpectedly falls through, Liz's plans come crashing down . . . until she's reminded of her school's scholarship for prom king and queen. There's nothing Liz wants to do less than endure a gauntlet of social media trolls, catty competitors, and humiliating public events, but despite her devastating fear of the spotlight she's willing to do whatever it takes to get to Pennington. The only thing that makes it halfway bearable is the new girl in school, Mack. She's smart, funny, and just as much of an outsider as Liz. But Mack is also in the running for queen. Will falling for the competition keep Liz from her dreams . . . or make them come true?"

[alitheamateur]

A Mid-Morning Promise

CHRIS EVANS X READER ONE-SHOT

Warnings: Fluff. Touchy of cheeky humor. 

There was an outpour of rain rolling off the gutter just outside your bedroom windowpane. It had to be much later out than the hazy gray of thunderstorm fog that darkened the walls said. But, you weren’t about to check the time and let your mind worry with all the matters of your busy day that needed tending to. Not with the familiar buzz of a finally resting man wheezing beside you.

Chris had been away only a month this go-around. But he came back overworked, and clogged emotionally in every aspect. You could tell it when he lugged himself through the door last night, eyes sagging with the trials of his day. 

His presence was as warm as his heart next to you beneath the twisted, wallowed sheets begging to be stained with your reuniting. When nights got too cumbersome and restless with his absence, you’d pull the heating pad from the linen closet and stuff it inside a pillow next to you. The warmth betraying your mind in the still of night when you would roll over in sleep to feel that hot side of the bed.

You fitted with his suitcase before bed last time, figuring a head start on his laundry would be one less thing to take care of over the weekend you had planned with family. But, he left the luggage in the trunk outside, insisting he just needed a shower, and you next to him.

He had fondled with the breasts under your slinky top after crumbing into the sheets with you only a handful of hours ago, but you could see the drunkenness of sleep deprivation looming behind his eyes. Ever thankful for his insatiable desires to touch you, and reunite his flesh to yours, you advised him to rest, so you could take him properly.

You hadn’t slept much, afraid he would dissipate like a vapor in the wind if you took your eyes off of him, but you could catch up on rest anytime. His face, curved and slightly puffy with stone-like slumber, hair prickly and pointing in erratic directions was the only vision you wanted to look at. He was shirtless, flat on his back, a leg slightly bent under the thin sheath of a jersey-knit sheet set, the fuzzy trail of his now softer abs dipping into the dark cloth of his boxers. You liked him this way. Toned in every desirable place, but his edges now less harsh, and much more realistic. He was comfortable in this softer skin, and you were still enamored with his easy handsomeness.

Suddenly, a mitt-like hand struck above his head, a smeared and soured stretch crumpling his nose. His freshly slept eyes heavy like the morning fog swept over you, and you felt the prickle of chills make your skin cold.

“It’s impolite to stare, baby. We’ve talked about this.” He rolled to his side, seeking out the cloudy foam of the duvet to cover the pair of you.

“And I can’t help myself. We’ve talked about that, too.”

He traced the dips of your face, combed over the brows of your eyes, tugged at the pout of your powder pink lips, his own mouth full of a smile.

“This is my favorite time, you know. Quiet, with you. Deaf to the noise of whatever is going on outside these four walls. And, it helps that these glorious tits are usually bare and eager to start the day with me, too.”

You chucked his chest with a heaving smack. So poetic, and so bro-ishly horny all in the same.

“You had me in the palm of your hand, until that little tit remark…” You chided, trying to cover yourself from him as punishment.

“I love you, Y/N. God, you couldn’t even begin to understand how much I need you, doll.”

You kissed him. Crude comments be damned, you sucked his mouth into yours with the heat of a thousand flames. His Adams apple bobbed under the palm of your fevered hand resting at his thick throat.

“Wait here for a second, okay?” He broke away, heading down the hall before you could get a good grip on him.

Flattening to your back, wordlessly assessing the color of your bedroom ceiling, the pattering of his feet re-entered the room with hands tucked behind his broad back.

“Close your eyes, angel.”

You obliged, but not without a bratty huff, and the bed dipped with his weight.

You felt him lay down, settling in close proximity of the very area of your body that craved him the most in that moment, sliding his stretched palms over the space of belly.

“No peeking, missy!” The butt of his chin was weighing on the lower of your abdomen, making your breaths a bit more struggled, and a cool presence appeared around your navel.

“Get to it, Evans. I have other plans for our morning…”

His fingers nimbly feathered over your skin, and you detected the ghost of a tremble in his usual sure touch.

“You are my world, Y/N. You are my most pleasant dream come to life, and I’m thankful every day that somehow you found your way to me. You’re patient, and selfless. Strong, and smart. You are so incredibly and painfully desirable every second of the day, and I’m convinced that you are the only human being on this planet that can make me this happy.

There was a slick coolness falling down your cheek before you knew it, and you clasped your fingers with his to steady your emotions.

“I want to be the single most supportive person in your life as you’ve been for me, and I will try with everything in me to be the every reason for that breathtaking smile.”

“Chris, I love you too. What’s this all about, you big mysterious lug?” You sniffled with still sealed eyes.

“Open, baby.”

In the crook of your naked belly, barely catching the dim light from a tired sun outside, was a diamond ring.

“Sweetheart, would you do me the greatest honor, and marry me?” He was splayed out on his belly, gripping your sides, resting a chattering chin just below the dazzling band.

“Yes, Chris. Always, yes.”

TAGS: @eap1935 @miidailyinspiration @mollybegger-blog @spideypxgirl @littleluna98

[imaginefeawakening]

Do you think you could do the male Shepard's reactions after femu has lashed out at them after shes been worried about her Grima side hurting them? Im sorry if thats worded oddly >

Your name: submit What is this?

My understanding is that MU has been ruminating over the Grima thingy and then they check up on em and then it’s all ‘grahahghragh’ , I hope I understood that right! //is slow

Frederick: “Your brow has been furrowed for an awfully long while,” observes Frederick. You’ve been hugging a pillow to your chest and intensely contemplating the fate that you have been given. Where to go, what to do, how to do it--Nothing makes sense at all. “Is there something you need--”

“Just leave me alone!” It comes out more harshly than intended, and you bite your lip. Yet an apology doesn’t come out. Perhaps, if you could isolate yourself, it would make things much easier.

Frederick regards you for a while before finally bowing his head. “As you wish.” To both your relief and dismay, he exits the tent and leaves you to wallow by yourself. It’s better this way...right? You look dolefully over your shoulder in hopes that he’s there but it’s only you by yourself. After several more moments of silence your husband returns, and gently sits beside you. “I cajoled Gaius out of these but--” He opens his palms to reveal two sizable helpings of your favorite tarts. “While these won’t solve your problems, I do hope I can alleviate your burdens even a bit. If my presence is truly unwanted, I do bid you to tell me at once.”

His last sentence makes you sniffle. You can’t imagine being without him at all. Ever. “Sniff--I’m sorry Frederick--of course I want you with me--” His face is right in front of yours, and his eyes crinkle with a warm and tender smile. He wipes your eyes and messy nose, and insists you take a nibble of the treat he’s brought for you. He’s happy to see that he’s right, and you’re far more relaxed now that you’re not alone.

“You can always count on me, _____.” He strokes your hair in soft caresses and speaks to you in a low and soothing voice. “Even if you want to shoo me away, I’ll be here to bother you.”

“You’re never a bother Frederick.” You reach up to squish his cheeks together and he smiles at you wryly. “But Frederick....Say I really am...Grima…”

“It wouldn’t change a thing in the world for me.” This time it’s his brow that furrows. “Do not suggest that you would--is that what you were so tense about.” He stops stroking your hair and his hands move down to your wrists. “You mustn’t. You cannot.”

Your eyes dart to the side, no longer able to hold the gaze of his warm, but now stern brown eyes. “I...I must do what is right, Frederick.”

“Sacrificing yourself is not right, by any means!” His voice holds a desperate fury that you cannot shy away from. He holds your chin up so you’re forced to look into his eyes. “Swear you won’t do such a thing.”

You lock eyes for a painfully long time, and every bit of you aches to simply hold him and tell him it’ll all be okay and that you’re being silly. But perhaps for now that would be the correct path of action...to lull him into a sense of security, with promises of tomorrow. And perhaps being positive may even bear fruit….perhaps.

“Fine, Frederick...I’ll swear it. I couldn’t bear leaving your side as it is.” You curl up in his lap and hug his waist, your cheek nuzzling his torso as you look up at him with a soft smile. “You’re my Freddy Bear, after all.”

“Won’t you quit that silly nickname even now?”

“Never, my dear Freddy Bear.” With a sigh he lets go of the debate for now, wishing to instead lavish you with so much attention that you never even think about leaving him.

Stahl: He’s gently stroking your hair with the same old smile as always. Yet--you find it unbearable to look at. You could be the one to get rid of it, to be the one that takes it away forever--

Before you’ve realized it, you’ve flinched from his touch and swatted his arm away. “D-dont!” His face falls, but he attempts to maintain a wobbly grin.

“Ah...sorry for bothering you. Do you want to stay alone for a bit..? You must have a lot to worry about but, you know you can count on me, right?”

He’s so sweet, damn him.

“I can’t rely on you forever Stahl. I have to learn to take care of myself.”

His mouth forms a tiny little ‘o’ and he rests his head on your lap. You look down at him with a surprised glance, while he in turn examines you, as though studying you for the first time. “When we got married, I thought the whole point was we could rely on each other?” He pokes your cheek softly and you sigh.

“I….It’s different now.”

“Really?” He pokes your other cheek and you wriggle your nose. “Do you not love me anymore?”

“You know that’s not it. It’s about…”

He sits up carefully and looks at you with a piercing gaze. “You potentially being Grima?”

You inhale sharply, not expecting him to know. “You...Yes. That’s...I can’t put anyone in danger. Not Morgan, not you, not anyone--I would rather die a million times over before I hurt any of you.” Your hands are shaking and you just wish he would get that you can’t live your life like before. But he won’t hear it at all.

“You’re not going to hurt any of us. It’ll be different this time.”

“How do you know? What if we said the same thing in that life?”

“Then I have all the more conviction in this one,” he says firmly. “I’ll hold you back, should you need it. But I believe you won’t do anything to harm us.”

“Stahl...would you take my life if I asked you to?”

“Absolutely not.”“Then my dilemma is the same.”

An uncomfortable silence falls, and the two of you ponder for a long while.

“If the time comes….If a time should ever come--”

“Then let it be you. Please? And don’t let it just be lip service.”

“....I’ll promise. Because I know it’ll never come to that.” His answer is resolute, and he squeezes your hand firmly to prove it. “Now...will you finally smile for me?”

You oblige him, if shaky and anxious, but it’s enough for now.

Gerome: He refuses to leave you be. “Gerome...get off of me.” He cages you in his arms and is adamant about not budging. You squirm weakly, half wanting solitude and the other half craving to continue receiving his affection.

“No. Because I was like you. Do you really think you can pull this with me around?” His hold only gets firmer and you get a whiff of his woody scent. “You’re giving up.”You grumble softly under your breath. “I’m not.” You’re determinedly looking at the ground, but he persists in getting your attention.

“Really? You’re not? Then why are you pushing me away.”

You almost retort, ‘what, like you?’ but you hold your tongue. He’s gotten better recently. Before when he held his tongue, you always wondered what was going on behind his surly silence and gloomy demeanor. And being prickly to him won’t do anything but make you feel even more guilty. “So I don’t kill you in this timeline as well.”“In this one as well? I assure you I’m whole and healthy.”

You push his face away slightly, sighing. “If we’re splitting hairs then...almost. I was the murderer of your parents. What’s to say I won’t take everything else from you too? Including your life this time, our son’s, I--”

He holds your cheeks firmly and finally has you look at him. “Quit that. For one thing--you’re not the same _____ from that lifetime. Even if you were...you and Grima aren’t the same.”

“So you...you don’t hate me? For being the monster--” He kisses you before you can go another rant again, although slowly enough that you could pull away if you so wished to. You return the soft peck, so gentle his lips caress yours rather than kiss.

“I detest Grima. Not you. So stop that. If you die, I’ll kill you, you know that, right?” He says such harsh words in such a soft voice. Before you know it, you’re laughing, and he nudges you with a playful smile. “Finally. That took a long time. I kinda feel bad for you for having to deal with me all the time.”

“It was worth it in the end. So you really believe in me Gerome?”

“I do. So you believe in yourself too, alright?” His words are strong...you don’t wish to betray his belief, nor take anything else away from his life. So you close your eyes and pray, pray that you can keep to your word and not break his heart ever again.

Chrom: Not sure what to do, he decides upon respecting your space and giving you time to breathe. He’s the one that you worry about the most. You’ve stolen his life in one timeline. What keeps you from doing it again and again?

Wracked with guilt, you stay up for him to come to bed so you can apologize for your sharp tongue, and promise to not shout at him again. But he doesn’t come back. In the late hours of the night, you finally doze off, exhausted from fear and stress. When you wake up in the morning, you’re not cold. He must have tucked you in once you dozed off. Braving the morning chill, you crawl over to the opening of the tent and poke your head out. Chrom’s right there, fast asleep against the front flap of the tent. With a heavy sigh, you grab him under his arms and drag him in.

He of course wakes with a start and almost attacks you, but calms down at the first sound of your voice. “_____,” he yawns and comes into the tent with a sleepy stagger. You invite him under your blanket and he snuggles up to your side in an instant. “_____...talk to me.”

“I wanted to,” you grumble, “but you never came back.”

“I...was doing patrols.” He rubs the back of his neck and averts his eyes. The man never made a very good liar.

“So you slept outside of the tent?” Your arms are crossed, and you cock your head to the side. He shrivels under your accusatory tone, and he wears a half smile that makes him look boyish (adorably so, you think with a pang). 

He looks down and hides his face in your shoulder. “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so tired…”

You gently pet his head and he slumps his shoulders and sighs. “I’m sorry Chrom. I never should have yelled at you. I’m really, truly sorry.”

“Will you kiss it better?” he jokes, but anxiety pervades his voice. You both know the conversation that’s coming. Better now than keep the elephant in the room waiting. But he doesn’t give you the opportunity to even open your mouth, and makes a defensive maneuver. “Don’t.”

“Chrom.”

“We’re not discussing this again.” His tone holds finality but you don’t have any of it.

“Chrom! Be reasonable!” As much as you fight against it, your voice goes up by a decibel. You clench your fist to maintain control, but you’re shaking nonetheless.

“I’m the reasonable one here. You’re spouting nonsense!”

You curse inwardly, biting back the profanity in your mouth. Why wouldn’t he listen? Surely, surely it all made sense from a logical perspective. But a man like him listened to his heart above all, much to your dismay. “If you would just let me explain to you just why we should--” 

He holds your hands and brings them to his chest. He’s gone from snuggling in you to sitting up straight, his eyes full of desperation and a steely glare you’ve only been on the other side once before. It sends a chill down your spine. “There’s nothing to explain. I cannot allow you to...to--”

“Oh, and it’s alright for you to die? It’s okay if you die?” Your voice grows more shrill by the word. “Do you think love me more than I love you?”

“I do!”

“No you don’t!” He turns away as though he’s been slapped, and your throat burns from the guilt, as though it bears responsibility for physically paining him. “Y-you don’t Chrom, you don’t know what you are to me...what you mean to me,” you hiccup, unaware when you’ve started crying. You try to maintain a steady voice, but it remains a tremulous mess, and your words are barely coherent. “You’re my everything. If I did anything to you...if this hand ever hurt you I’d--I’d cut it off!” You announce this dramatically and he looks very concerned. His eyes too are brimming with tears, and it catches you off guard.

“_____…” Suddenly, he clutches you to his chest, holding you so hard as though he’ll never release you again. As though his arms are a cage he can protect you in forever. “Don’t go. Don’t hurt yourself. My every heartbeat matches yours...how could you say I don’t love you just as much as you love me?” His hands move from your back to your cheeks, and he cups your face as though you’ll slip away if he’s not careful enough. “So don’t ask me to hurt you...and don’t go where I can’t follow you.”

“I’m sorry,” you finish pathetically, and he kisses you. He kisses your eyes, all of your tears, your cheeks, your nose, everywhere he can reach. It’s come to an impasse. You can shout your lungs out all night but in the end a false promise is all you can give him. And all he can do is accept. Between every sorry, you receive another kiss, and you remain at war with each other, to do all you can to ensure the other lives. it’s a truce, albeit an unwilling one. All that’s left to do now is to enjoy each other’s company while it still lasts.

[ryujin-zanba]

chapter 5~ the final chapter ;3; this fic has been really good fun to write,, thank you @katherine-ciejek for all your wonderful suggestions that made me want to do this lol, here’s to more in the future ;3c

no warnings that i can think of just pure and tooth-rotting fluff & body worship from here u3u hope y’all enjoy~

all chapters will be in one place on ao3 in the next couple of days ^3^

It seems as if he’s surprised even himself with that, but in the moment it had felt like the right thing to do; it was what he wanted to do. Because… being around you is nothing like being with his ex. There’s a constant, radiant air of comfort and belonging here, in your arms and just being beside you. He’s always thought so, but never in such an intense way before.

You’ve been a good and reliable friend, the kind he tries so hard to be to his teammates and to you in return, but coming from such a lonely, dark place, only to end up with you in this cosy, intimate setting feels more than just right, it feels natural.

It feels like home. You save him from the flicker of fear that washes over his face when he notices that he’s caught you off guard; a pink tinge to his cheeks that is kindling for a fiery blush. You tame it by kissing him with several tender, earnest touches of your lips, marking him from mouth… to jaw… to neck… to shoulder. He lets the blanket slip enough to expose more and more skin for your descent, but you go slowly; not rushing him at any point while you take the time to appreciate every inch of him that he offers to you. It’s funny, but you find yourself thinking of his ex briefly. You want them to know what they’ve done, and what they’re now missing. You want them to damn well see that this is how you treat the person you love: with devotion and respect. “You’re beautiful,” you say in a light voice carried on a quiet exhale, as you steadily help him to recline on the spread of feather pillows, but keeping his modesty safe by draping the fleece blanket over his chest once his is lying down. “These big strong arms…” you purr, caressing the relaxed muscles with one hand while you kiss the bicep of the other. Ebumi smiles lopsidedly and flexes for you, and you respond by widening your eyes and making an impressed noise.

It’s vital that he feels the kind of affection and awe that he needs in order to regain his confidence, so you encourage his efforts at every single opportunity. “I can lift Matsuo, you know?” He mentions, that loveable spark of arrogance flickering back to life as you gladly continue to feed his ego. “No way!” You challenge him playfully. “It’s true! I threw him a whole three feet vertically when I got attacked by some bastard crab at the beach and I still caught him!” He fervently retells. “Oh, selfless as well as strong,” you swoon in a dramatic voice. It gets a chuckle and a blush out of Ebumi though, and so you ease him down onto his beck again after he had momentarily leant up when protesting your disbelief. “Go on, beautiful, I want to hear more,” you smile, paying attention to his chest as you follow on from mouthing at his shoulder. “Heh, well… I uh… I scored three tries in practice today…” “Mhm,” you acknowledge, lovingly rubbing circles with your thumbs over the barely distinguishable ridges where his ribs should be.

It’s a nice thing to note that they’re not particularly prominent, actually. Ebumi is very soft around his torso; nicely padded. Ebumi is a nice shape in general really. He’s particularly muscular around his extreme upper half and extreme lower half, but connected in between by a plush chest and the softest, most palpable little waist. He’s like an ice cream sandwich; cool softness protected by crisp, abrasive layers… with a sharp flavour but the sweetest melty centre when you get past the initial tang of his prickly nature. You suppose that makes him a rare delicacy in that, in this metaphor, he’s not the type of ice cream cone the majority would like. Most would go for something classic like strawberry, or bubble-gum, or perhaps rocky road, but there are always those who will opt for rum and raisin every time, and right now, Ebumi looks an awful lot like a big soft serve of your favourite flavour as he melts into the duvet and purrs under your touch. “You’re beautiful,” you remember to keep mentioning; adamant that he will think so too by the time you’re finished here. He smiles dreamily, his eyes closed and his arms raised by his head as he fists up the sheet on the duvet beneath him. You’ve been revealing him very steadily up to now, just rolling the blanket down a fraction at a time, but when you take another inch of cover away, Ebumi tenses and his comfortable expression disappears. You notice immediately, of course, and stop right away, waiting for his word before doing anything more. “Do you need a minute?” You offer rather than ask. Ebumi looks down along his body, seeing you poised but patient as you lay out on your front between his legs. “Just… just please don’t stop, okay?” “Please don’t stop kissing me.” He’s almost begging you. You can hear the desperation and defeat, and it’s there in his eyes too. “Please don’t decide you hate it— or h— hate me when you see me there—” “No, gorgeous,” you intervene, wanting to banish those threatening tears before they can ruin his good feeling. “You’re just fine—” “But you haven’t seen me yet! You might think like they did! I might just repulse y—” “I want you, Masaru. I want you just as you are, and I will love everything that comes with you, including these,” you smile with unchallengeable conviction, sliding the rest of the blanket down without looking, and kissing the soft swell of his tummy that just slightly extends the waistband of his boxers. Without faltering for a moment, you begin to kiss each individual stretch mark that adorn his hips, getting so close in that your nose lightly nudges his belly and your eyelashes sometimes brush against his skin. “You see? Beautiful,” you hush between kisses. “They’re beautiful,” you soothe, migrating inward to his thighs. “You’re beautiful,” you croon, leaving kisses for every little stripe, every little mark, and every little ladder you can discover. Ebumi trembles, relaxing once more and letting out a wistful sigh as his mouth twitches at the corners; the pure and tender ministrations setting his chest a flurry as he comes to feel the love and acceptance he deserves to have learned of long before now. All it had taken was one unpleasant encounter with someone who didn’t respect his body, and since then he’d been convinced that any hope he’d have of being seen as even remotely desirable was diminished completely. But he will never know the right words to describe how magical it is to have all those hurtful criticisms and thoughts of self-loathing singed by the unshakable passion of somebody else.

To have his confidence return steadily, and his doubts chased away by the devoted lips of someone who loves him, and this time, truly loves every aspect of him. “Your skin is the softest here,” you tell him, smiling serenely as you close your eyes and just brush the tip of your nose against the tails of the stretch marks that reach toward his untoned tummy. “It’s the softest thing in the world…” Ebumi gazes down admiringly at you, watching as you explore him with no hint of judgment, only genuine adoration. He extends a hand to tentatively stroke the back of your head, and lets out a breathy laugh that makes his chest expand quickly and in turn makes his tummy ripple slightly like the tiniest disturbance on the surface of water. “You’re just perfect, Ebucchi.  Just the way you are,” you promise, opening your eyes to unveil a rich, mellow gaze that you fix directly on him. Heat simmers under his skin and causes a blush to reach up to the tips of his ears; it’s far too adorable, and you wonder how anyone could be so mindless not to realise how perfect he really is. Sensing that you’ve worshipped his beautiful imperfections to the fullest extent, you draw the mood away into a happy close by pressing your lips all over his tummy in a rush of raspberries and noisy, ongoing smooches that have him squirming and cackling, rolling around as he begs you to stop even though he’s giggling and laughing himself to tears. You cease before he starts to actually run out of breath, and bundle him up in the blanket like a little fleece wrap, pinning his arms in the swaddle and kissing his nose. “Now then, beautiful boy, are you hungry? Have you had anything to eat today?” Ebumi’s laughing dies down, and he sniffs as you release him from the blanket burrito and shakes his head. As he sits up though, the fleece slips into his lap where he adopts a pose with both knees bent for his forearms to rest along. This position makes his tummy double up like a little roll of pastry; overhanging just a bit. You’re glad that he already doesn’t feel the need to hide it anymore, and you share in a flurry of chaste kisses all over his face before getting up to make him dinner. He’s clearly starving, the poor mite. He barely says a word; too busy trying to eat his fill when you place a well-piled plate on the coffee table in front of him.

Once he’s satisfied his hunger, however, you seem to be in the company of a very special side to Ebumi. He snuggles up to you automatically, and you sit with his head in your lap for most of the night, just playing with his hair as you watch television into the early hours.

He’s fast asleep when you check on him by silkily moving his bangs from his face. His mouth is partially open and he’s drooling, breathing deeply through his nose and making a slightly congested snoring sound; it’s just far too damn cute.

You’re careful then, delicate with him as you slowly slide him out of your lap and decide that you’ll stay in the little blanket nest in front of the fire tonight.

It’s cosy and intimate, and there’s no chance of a chill when Ebumi instinctively hones in on where you’re about to settle down and attaches himself to you like a baby bird.

You chuckle softly, enamoured by his sweet, sleep-driven antics. But more than anything, you’re happy knowing that he is too.